"You know 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 Mary O Hara?'
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear, 'Get the right f *** ing number!' and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Mary's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
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.
Then Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic '****' calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, 'Hi, this is John Murphy from Eircom. 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 ****!' and hung up.
One day I was at Tesco, 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, 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 **** (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?'
He said, 'Yes, it is.' I asked,
'Can you tell me where I can see it?'
He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Road, in Dublin. It's a yellow duplex, and the car's parked right out in front.'
I asked, 'What's your name?'
He said, 'My name is Michael Byrne.'
I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Michael?'
He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.'
I said, 'Listen, Michael, can I tell you something?'
He said, 'Yes?'
I said, 'Michael, 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 ****s to call. Then I came up with an idea.
I called **** #1; he said, 'Hello.'
I said, 'You're an ****!' (But I didn't hang up.)
He asked, 'Are you still there?'
I said, 'Yeah.'
He screamed, 'Stop calling me.'
I said, 'Make me.'
He asked, 'Who are you?'
I said, 'My name is Michael Byrne.'
He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?'
I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Road, in Dublin, a yellow duplex, I have a black Beamer parked in front.'
He said, 'I'm coming over right now, Michael. And you had better start saying your prayers.'
I said, 'Yeah, like I'm really scared, ****,' and hung up. Then I called Asshole #2. He said, 'Hello?'
I said, 'Hello, ****.'
He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...'
I said, 'You'll what?'
He exclaimed, 'I'll kick your ass!'
I answered, 'Well, ****, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.' Then I hung up and immediately called the Gardai, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Road, in Dublin, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called TV3 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Road. in Fairfax.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Oaktree Road I got there just in time to watch two ****s beating the crap out of each other in front of six
cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really does work."
http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?t=2055377292
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 Mary O Hara?'
Suddenly a manic voice yelled out in my ear, 'Get the right f *** ing number!' and the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Mary's correct number to call her, I found that I had accidentally transposed the last two digits.
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.
Then Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic '****' calling would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, 'Hi, this is John Murphy from Eircom. 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 ****!' and hung up.
One day I was at Tesco, 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, 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 **** (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?'
He said, 'Yes, it is.' I asked,
'Can you tell me where I can see it?'
He said, 'Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Road, in Dublin. It's a yellow duplex, and the car's parked right out in front.'
I asked, 'What's your name?'
He said, 'My name is Michael Byrne.'
I asked, 'When's a good time to catch you, Michael?'
He said, 'I'm home every evening after five.'
I said, 'Listen, Michael, can I tell you something?'
He said, 'Yes?'
I said, 'Michael, 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 ****s to call. Then I came up with an idea.
I called **** #1; he said, 'Hello.'
I said, 'You're an ****!' (But I didn't hang up.)
He asked, 'Are you still there?'
I said, 'Yeah.'
He screamed, 'Stop calling me.'
I said, 'Make me.'
He asked, 'Who are you?'
I said, 'My name is Michael Byrne.'
He said, 'Yeah? Where do you live?'
I said, 'Asshole, I live at 34 Oaktree Road, in Dublin, a yellow duplex, I have a black Beamer parked in front.'
He said, 'I'm coming over right now, Michael. And you had better start saying your prayers.'
I said, 'Yeah, like I'm really scared, ****,' and hung up. Then I called Asshole #2. He said, 'Hello?'
I said, 'Hello, ****.'
He yelled, 'If I ever find out who you are...'
I said, 'You'll what?'
He exclaimed, 'I'll kick your ass!'
I answered, 'Well, ****, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now.' Then I hung up and immediately called the Gardai, saying that I lived at 34 Oaktree Road, in Dublin, and that I was on my way over there to kill my gay lover.
Then I called TV3 News about the gang war going down in Oaktree Road. in Fairfax.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Oaktree Road I got there just in time to watch two ****s beating the crap out of each other in front of six
cop cars, an overhead news helicopter and surrounded by a news crew.
NOW I feel much better. Anger management really does work."
http://www.boards.ie/vbulletin/showthread.php?t=2055377292