momita
11-21-2003, 06:16 PM
For all of you who 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 home, when I remembered a phone call I had
forgotten to make to the insurance man. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered saying, "Hello?"
I politely said "This is toni, could I please speak with
Mike Carter?"
He slammed the phone down on me. I couldn't believe anyone
could be so rude.
I tracked down Mike's correct number and called him. (I had
switched the last two digits of his phone number)
After hanging up with him, I decided to call the 'wrong' number
again. When the same guy answered the phone,
I yelled "Your an *******!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down, with the word '*******' next to it, and
put it in my phone book. 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.
Intertainment in this valley is hard to come by.... 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 Mary Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with 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 *******!"
So, 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 an yelled
that I had 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 I had better call BMW *******, too.
I dialed and someone said, "Hello?" 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 12th Street. It's a yellow house and
the car's parked right out 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, your an *******!"
Then I hung up and added his number to my
speed dial, too. Now when I had a problem, I had two *******s 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 ******* #1. with a very gruff sounding voice......
"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 12th Street, a yellow house with my
black Beemer out front."
He said "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you 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 ass," 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 12th Street and I'm on my way over there to
kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 13 new about the gang war going down on West 12th Street. I quickly got into my car and headed over to 12th Street.
There I saw two *******s beating the crap out of each other in
front of 6 squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
Now, I really feel better.........
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 home, when I remembered a phone call I had
forgotten to make to the insurance man. I found the number, and dialed it. A man answered saying, "Hello?"
I politely said "This is toni, could I please speak with
Mike Carter?"
He slammed the phone down on me. I couldn't believe anyone
could be so rude.
I tracked down Mike's correct number and called him. (I had
switched the last two digits of his phone number)
After hanging up with him, I decided to call the 'wrong' number
again. When the same guy answered the phone,
I yelled "Your an *******!" and hung up.
I wrote his number down, with the word '*******' next to it, and
put it in my phone book. 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.
Intertainment in this valley is hard to come by.... 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 Mary Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with 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 *******!"
So, 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 an yelled
that I had 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 I had better call BMW *******, too.
I dialed and someone said, "Hello?" 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 12th Street. It's a yellow house and
the car's parked right out 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, your an *******!"
Then I hung up and added his number to my
speed dial, too. Now when I had a problem, I had two *******s 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 ******* #1. with a very gruff sounding voice......
"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 12th Street, a yellow house with my
black Beemer out front."
He said "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you 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 ass," 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 12th Street and I'm on my way over there to
kill my gay lover.
Then I called Channel 13 new about the gang war going down on West 12th Street. I quickly got into my car and headed over to 12th Street.
There I saw two *******s beating the crap out of each other in
front of 6 squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
Now, I really feel better.........