Anger management really works!!!
Anger Management (funny joke sent to me thought I would share)
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to
take
it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out
on someone you don’t know.
It all started one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered a
phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered, saying, “Hello.”
I politely said, “This is Chris. May I please speak with Robin
Carter?”
Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that
anyone could be so rude.
I tracked down Robin’s correct number and called her. I had
transposed
the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I
decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, “You’re an asshole!”
and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word ‘asshole’ next to it, and put
it
in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or
had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, “You’re an asshole!”
It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic ‘asshole’
calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said: “Hi, this is John Smith from the
Telephone Company. I’m just calling to see if you’re interested in
the
Caller ID program?”
He yelled “NO!” and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, “That’s because you’re an
asshole!”
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking
spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had
patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been
waiting for the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a “For Sale”
sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had
his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the BMW
asshole, too.
I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Can you tell me where I can see it?”
“Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It’s a yellow house, and the
car’s parked right out in front.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Don Burgemeyer,” he said.
“When’s a good time to catch you, Don?”
“I’m home every evening after five.”
“Listen, Don, can I tell you something?”
“Yes?”
“Don, you’re an asshole.”
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call But after
several months of calling them, it wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to
be.
So, I came up with an idea.
I called Asshole #1.
“Hello.”
“You’re an asshole!” (But I didn’t hang up.)
“Are you still there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Stop calling me,” he screamed.
“Make me,” I screamed back.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name is Don Burgemeyer.”
“Yeah? Where do you live?”
“I live at 1802 West 34th Street, ASSHOLE! It’s a yellow house, with
my black beemer parked in front.”
He said, “I’m coming over there right now, Don. And you had better
start saying your prayers.”
I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole.”
Then I called Asshole #2.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hello, asshole,” I said…again, without hanging up.
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are!”
“Yeah, you’ll what?” I said.
“I’ll kick your ass,” he exclaimed.
I answered, “Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right
now.”
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived
at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way home to kill my
gay
lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News to let them know about the war going
down
on West 34th Street. I quickly got into my car and headed over to
34th
street.
There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front
of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
NOW, I feel better.
Anger management really works!!!
When you occasionally have a really bad day, and you just need to
take
it out on someone, don’t take it out on someone you know, take it out
on someone you don’t know.
It all started one day when I was sitting at my desk and remembered a
phone call I had forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed it.
A man answered, saying, “Hello.”
I politely said, “This is Chris. May I please speak with Robin
Carter?”
Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that
anyone could be so rude.
I tracked down Robin’s correct number and called her. I had
transposed
the last two digits of her phone number. After hanging up with her, I
decided to call the ‘wrong’ number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled, “You’re an asshole!”
and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word ‘asshole’ next to it, and put
it
in my desk drawer. Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills or
had a really bad day, I’d call him up and yell, “You’re an asshole!”
It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic ‘asshole’
calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said: “Hi, this is John Smith from the
Telephone Company. I’m just calling to see if you’re interested in
the
Caller ID program?”
He yelled “NO!” and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, “That’s because you’re an
asshole!”
One day I was at the store, getting ready to pull into a parking
spot.
Some guy in a black BMW cut me off and pulled into the spot I had
patiently waited for. I hit the horn and yelled that I had been
waiting for the spot. The idiot ignored me. I noticed a “For Sale”
sign in his car window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had
his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the BMW
asshole, too.
I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Can you tell me where I can see it?”
“Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It’s a yellow house, and the
car’s parked right out in front.”
“What’s your name?”
“My name is Don Burgemeyer,” he said.
“When’s a good time to catch you, Don?”
“I’m home every evening after five.”
“Listen, Don, can I tell you something?”
“Yes?”
“Don, you’re an asshole.”
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call But after
several months of calling them, it wasn’t as enjoyable as it used to
be.
So, I came up with an idea.
I called Asshole #1.
“Hello.”
“You’re an asshole!” (But I didn’t hang up.)
“Are you still there?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Stop calling me,” he screamed.
“Make me,” I screamed back.
“Who are you?” he demanded.
“My name is Don Burgemeyer.”
“Yeah? Where do you live?”
“I live at 1802 West 34th Street, ASSHOLE! It’s a yellow house, with
my black beemer parked in front.”
He said, “I’m coming over there right now, Don. And you had better
start saying your prayers.”
I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, asshole.”
Then I called Asshole #2.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hello, asshole,” I said…again, without hanging up.
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are!”
“Yeah, you’ll what?” I said.
“I’ll kick your ass,” he exclaimed.
I answered, “Well, asshole, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right
now.”
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived
at 1802 West 34th Street, and that I was on my way home to kill my
gay
lover.
Then I called Channel 9 News to let them know about the war going
down
on West 34th Street. I quickly got into my car and headed over to
34th
street.
There I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front
of six squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
NOW, I feel better.
Anger management really works!!!
Leave a Comment
phoenix on
lmao, I've always loved that too. Was reading during a meeting trying not to laugh as the people in the meeting talked about war issues and I read your blog. Thanks, I needed the laugh today.
