TNT
|
8/22/2008 12:46:36 AM
Anger Management!
I just read this online and thought I'd share it as I nearly wet myself laughing.
"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 Sean. 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, but then again how long have we been in sales so I decide to let it go. 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 C*nt!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word 'C*nt' 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 C*nt!" It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "C*nt" 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 C*nt!"
One day I was at Valley Park (Croydon for you non London folk) 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 C*nt (I had his number on speed dial,) I thought that I'd better call the Land Rover C*nt, 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 Coombe Lane, in Croydon. 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 C*nt!"
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 Monday when I was feeling in a particulary bad mood I came up with an idea. I called C*nt #1.
"Hello?" "You're a C*nt!" (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 Coombe Lane, Croydon, 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, C*nt," and hung up.
Then I called C*nt #2.
"Hello?" he said.
"Hello, C*nt," 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 Coombe Lane, Croydon, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover. Then I called the Croydon Advertiser about the hoodie war going down in Coombe Lane, Croydon.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Coombe Lane. I got there just in time to watch two C*nts beating the cr*p out of each other in front of six police cars, an overhead police helicopter and a News people.
Now I feel MUCH better.
TAKE IT FROM ME, ANGER MANAGEMENT REALLY WORKS!"
|
|