Anger Management
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 dialled it. A man answered, saying "Hello."
I Politely said, "This is David. Could I please speak with Robert
Campbell
?"
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear "Get the right f*kin
number!"
and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone
could
be so rude. When I tracked down Robert's correct number to call
him, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
After hanging up with him, I decided to call the 'wrong' number again.
When the same guy answered the phone, I yelled "You're a tw*t!" and hung
up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'Tw*t' 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 a Tw*t!" It always
cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "Tw*t" calling
would have to stop. So, I called his number and said,"Hi, this is John
Smith from BT . 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 a Tw*t!"
One day I was at Lakeside Shopping Centre, getting ready to pull into a
parking spot. Some guy in a gunmetal grey Land Rover 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, but the idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For
Sale" sign in his back window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first Tw*t (I had his
number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the Land Rover
Tw*t,too.
I said, "Is this the man with the gunmetal grey Land Rover for sale?"
Yes, it is", he said. "Can you tell me where I can see it?" I
asked."Yes, I
live at 129 Alice Street, in Ilford. It's a terraced house, and the
car's
parked right out in front."
"What's your name?" I asked. "My name is Steve Hansen," he said.
"When's a good time to catch you, Steve?" "I'm home most days as I'm
currently unemployed." "Listen, Steve, can I tell you something?" "Yes?"
"Steve, you're a Tw*t!"
Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I
had
a problem, I had two a**eholes to call. Then one day I came up with an
idea. I called Tw*t #1.
"Hello?"
"You're a Tw*t!" (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 Steve Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"I live at 129 Alice Street, Ilford, a terraced house, with my gunmetal
grey Land Rover parked out the front."
He said, "I'm coming over right now, Steve. And you had better start
saying
your prayers."
I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, Tw*t," and hung up.
Then I called Tw*t #2. "Hello?" he said.
"Hello, Tw*t," I said.
He yelled, "If I ever find out who you are..."
"You'll do what?" I said.
"I'll kick your a*se," he exclaimed.
I answered, "Well, C*nt, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now."
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at
129 Alice Street, Ilford , and that I was on my way over there to kill
my
gay lover. Then I called Channel 5 News about the hoodie war going down
in
Alice Street, Ilford .
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Alice Street. I got there
just
in time to watch two Tw*ts beating the cr*p out of each other in front
of
six police cars, an overhead police helicopter and a News crew.
Now I feel MUCH better.
:nono: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: :rofl: