Looks like I have some phone calls to make

Are you pissed off? Take it out on someone! But 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 Lee Koloski, Could I please speak with Robyn
Carter?"

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 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 ass hole!"
and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'ass 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 ass hole!" It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic 'ass hole'
calling would have to stop. So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this
is John Smith from the telephone company. 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 ass hole!" and hung up.

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 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 ass hole (I had his
number on speed dial), I thought that I'd better call the BMW ass hole,
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 Oak tree Blvd., in Fairfax . It's a yellow
ambler, and the car's parked right out in front."

I asked, "What's your name?"

He said, "My name is Don Hansen,"

I asked, "When's a good time to catch you, Don?"

He said, "I'm home every evening after five."

I said, "Listen, Don, can I tell you something?"

He said, "Yes?"

I said, "Don, you're an ass hole!" and I hung up, and added his
number to my speed dial, too. Now, when I had a problem, I had two
ass holes to call.

Then I came up with an idea. I called ass hole #1. He said, "Hello."

I said, "You're an ass hole!" (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 Don Hansen." He said, "Yeah? Where do you
live?"

I said, "Ass hole, I live at 34 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax, a yellow
ambler, I have a black Beamer parked in front."

He said, "I'm coming over right now, Don. And you had better start
saying your prayers."

I said, "Yeah, like I'm really scared, ass hole," and hung up.

Then I called Ass hole #2.

He said, "Hello?"

I said, "Hello, ass hole,"

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, ass hole, 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 Oak tree Blvd, in Fairfax , and that I was on my way over there to
kill my gay lover.

Then I called Channel 10 News about the gang war going down in Oak
tree Blvd. in Fairfax

I quickly got into my car and headed over to Fairfax . I got there just
in time to watch two ass holes 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.