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 dialed 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 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 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 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 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 C*nt!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed

dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two <deleted> to call.

Then 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?"

"C*nt, 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, 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 what?" I said.

"I'll kick your arse," 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 C*nts beating the crap out of each

other in front of six police cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news

crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really works...