Merv was in a terrible accident at work. He fell through a floor tile and ripped off both of his ears. Since he was permanently disfigured, he settled with the company for a rather large sum of money and went on his way. …
…
Merv decided to invest his money in a small, but growing telecom business called Plexus Communications. After weeks of negotiations, he bought the company outright. But, after signing on the dotted line, he realized that he knew nothing about running such a business and quickly set out to hire someone who could do that for him. The next day he had set up three interviews.
The first guy was great. He knew everything he needed to and was very interesting. At the end of the interview, Merv asked him, “Do you notice anything different about me?” And the gentleman answered, “Why yes, I couldn’t help but notice you have no ears.” Merv got very angry and threw him out.
The second interview was with a woman, and she was even better than the first guy. He asked her the same question, “Do you notice anything different about me?” and she replied: “Well, you have no ears.” Merv again was upset and tossed her out.
The third and last interview was the best of all three. It was with a very young man who was fresh out of college. He was smart. He was handsome. And he seemed to be a better businessman than the first two put together. Merv was anxious, but went ahead and asked the young man the same question: “Do you notice anything different about me?” And to his surprise, the young man answered: “Yes. You wear contact lenses.”
Merv was shocked, and said, “What an incredibly observant young man. How in the world did you know that?” The young man fell off his chair laughing hysterically and replied, “Well, it’s pretty hard to wear glasses with no ears!”
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 Robyn Carter?” Suddenly, a manic voice yelled out in my ear “Get the right f**in’ number!” And the phone was slammed down on me. I couldn’t believe that anyone could be so rude. When I tracked down Robyn’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 a**hole!” and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word ‘a**hole’ 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 a**hole!” It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic ‘аsshоlе’ calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, “Hi, this is John Smith from Telstra. 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 аrsеhоlе!”
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 and yelled that I’d been waiting for that spot, but the idiот 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 аsshоlе (I had his number on speed dial), I thought that I’d better call the BMW аsshоlе, too. I said, “Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?”
“Yes, it is”, he said.
“Can you tell me where I can see it?” I asked.
“Yes, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, in Vaucluse. It’s a yellow house, and the car’s parked right out in 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, you’re an аsshоlе!” 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 аrsеhоlе #1.
“Hello.”
“You’re an аsshоlе!” I said, 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?”
“A**hole, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, a yellow house, with my black Beamer parked in front.”
He said, “I’m coming over right now, Don, and you’d better start saying your prayers.” I said, “Yeah, like I’m really scared, аrsеhоlе,” and hung up.
Then I called аrsеhоlе #2.
“Hello?” he said.
“Hello, аrsеhоlе,” I said.
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are…”
“You’ll what?” I said.
“I’ll kick you’re аrsе,” he exclaimed.
I answered, “Well, аrsеhоlе, here’s your chance. I’m coming over right now.”
Then I hung up and immediately called the police, saying that I lived at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse, and that I was on my way over there to кill my gаy lover. Then I called Channel 9 News about the gang war going down in Mowbray Blvd, Vaucluse.
I quickly got into my car and headed over to Mowbray. I got there just in time to watch two arseholes beating the сrар out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.
Anger management really works.