My friend wrote this short story.



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. I was sitting at my desk when I
remembered a
phone call I'd forgotten to make. I found the number and dialed
it.

A man answered, saying "Hello."

I politely said, "This is Chris. Could 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 *******!" and hung up.

I wrote his number down with the word '*******' 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
*******!"

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID came to our area, I thought my therapeutic
'*******'
calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said,
"Hi, this
is John Smith from the telephone company. I'm calling to see if
you're
familiar with our Caller ID Program?" He yelled "NO!" and
slammed down
the phone.

I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an
*******!"

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'd been
waiting
for that 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 ******* (I
had
his number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the
BMW
*******, 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?" I asked.

"My name is Don Hansen," 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 *******." Then I hung up, and added his number
to my
speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two ********
to call.

Then I came up with an idea. I called ******* #1.

"Hello."

"You're an *******!" (But I didn't hang up.)

"Are you still there?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Stop calling me," he screamed.

"Make me," I said.

"Who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Don Hansen."

"Yeah? Where do you live?"

"*******, I live at 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house, with
my
black Beamer parked
in front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better
start
saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, *******."

Then I called ******* #2. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, *******," I said.

He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."

"You'll what?" I said.

"I'll kick your ***," he exclaimed.

I answered, "Well, *******, 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 over there to
kill
my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 13 News about the gang war going down on
West
34th Street.

I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th street.

There I saw two ******** beating the crap out of each other in
front of
six squad cars, a police helicopter and a news crew.

NOW I feel much better. You know, this anger management stuff
really works...

 

haha thats funny as hell. might have to try it.

 

holy crap.. thts great

 

LOL.. Funny.

 

good story, but sounds to fictional

 

 

I doubt your friend wrote it, it's been around for several years.

 

Well, if he did or didnt, I still think its funny... So who gives a ****.

 

Still funny

 

LMFAO!!!!