had to share this with you guys, funniest thing i read in ages
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 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 [/I]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 unemployed because 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 arseholes 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. Who are you?" he screamed.
"My name is Steve Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"I live at 129 Alice Street, Ilford, C*nt, in a terraced house, with my big-ass gunmetal grey Land Rover parked out the front."
"I'm coming over right now, Steve. And you had better start saying your prayers."
"Ooooooh Yeah, like I'm really scared, C*nt," and I 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..."
"Well, C*nt, here's your chance. I found out that you live at 129 Alice Street so 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...
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 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 [/I]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 unemployed because 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 arseholes 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. Who are you?" he screamed.
"My name is Steve Hansen."
"Yeah? Where do you live?"
"I live at 129 Alice Street, Ilford, C*nt, in a terraced house, with my big-ass gunmetal grey Land Rover parked out the front."
"I'm coming over right now, Steve. And you had better start saying your prayers."
"Ooooooh Yeah, like I'm really scared, C*nt," and I 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..."
"Well, C*nt, here's your chance. I found out that you live at 129 Alice Street so 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...
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that would have been awesome to see.
