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 asshole!" and hung up. I wrote his number down with the word 'asshole' 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 asshole!"

It always cheered me up.

When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic "asshole
calling" would have to stop.

So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John Smith from the
Verizon. 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 asshole!"

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 which included his phone number, so I wrote down the number.

A couple of days later, right after calling the first asshole (I had
his number on speed dial) I thought that I'd better call the BMW
asshole, 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 asshole!" Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.

Now, when I had a problem, I had two assholes to call. Then I came up with an idea. I called Asshole ..1.

"Hello."

"You're an asshole!" (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?"

"Asshole, 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 had better start saying your prayers."

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

Then I called Asshole ..2. "Hello?" he said.

"Hello, asshole," 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, asshole, 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 kill my gay 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 assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of six cop cars, an overhead police helicopter and a news crew.

NOW I feel much better.

Anger management really works!!

Are you F***ing serious? It was all believable up until calling the cops and channel 9, it just all seems too perfect. I hope you at least got pictures of some of this or maybe a news article?

My guess.. it was made up. But it was perdy funny.

I've read that story before. It's a loller. You know, someone could actually pull that off.

pinky you scare me

LMAO!

that is F*CKING fantastic

lol

I think is too many variables to actually pull that off. It's more fora loller.

I've read it b4, it's still funny. n1 pinky

Ummmmm.....it wasn't me. LOL. I found it and thought it was funny. But it's something that would be up my alley, so to speak, hahaha.

Better..

WITH HAND GRENADES ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE!

Very few of the uninitiated properly appreciate the myriad
powers that Hand Grenades have to affect your life in a positive
and growing manner. Take this opportunity to learn, and if you
feel like it, join in!

CASE STUDIES 1 & 2

Vernon Hyacinth was a 19 year old loser from Great Falls, Minn.
He had never had a successful job, only gotten laid with drunk
women who hated him the next morning, and he kept scratching his
Nirvana CDs. In short, Vernon had nothing to live for. But he
was too wimpy to take any direct action, and lived on in a horrible
stupor of angst.

Some passing punks in a VW Van noticed Vernon's slouch as he sat on
the sidewalk and correctly interpreted his miasma. Feeling that it
was their social duty to lighten him up, as well as having had a
really F*CKING boring day, one of them tossed a hand grenade into
Vernon's lap as they drove by.

Vernon, realizing that the end was near, finally achived the state
of enlightenment he had been seeking all his life for a half second before,
and a tenth of a second after, the hand grenade detonated.


Erik Lopez was a CIA / DEA field operations agent assigned to uncover
narcotics activities in Columbia. One day while investigating
a particular drug lab in the hills near the Columbian/Peruvian border,
he snapped. He had had it with this pu$$y around intelligence
bullshit, he was going to do something real. He pulled out his MP-5
submachinegun and charged down towards the lab, shooting several guards.

The guards panicked and returned fire, but not nearly as accurately as Erik.
Five of the eight guards were killed or wounded before the rest found
cover and pinned Erik down. Erik, realizing how much trouble he was in,
produced a hand grenade and threw it towards the guards.

Unbeknownst to Erik, the guards, members of the local Yambo tribe, had been
fervently praying to their Monkey God, Uoo-shabo, for deliverance first
from the insanely boring guard duty and then for deliverance from this
loco gringo who wanted to kill them. Both times, Uoo-shabo was listening.
The grenade bounced off a tree and landed next to Erik, who wondered for
a second what he'd done wrong in life to deserve this, before the grenade
detonated.


WHAT DO HAND GRENADES MEAN TO *YOU*!!!

Hand Grenades are one of the great positive forces in our lifetime.
Men have achived potency and vigor by careful use of Hand Grenades.
Women have found love and conversely discouraged unwanted suitors.
Small forest creatures have become one with their surroundings
due to Hand Grenades.

Hand Grenades are a great equalizer; with Hand Grenades, everyone is
equally powerful and equally powerless. Hand Grenades are the way
to knock down doors to progress, doors to escape, and the occassional
door of a safe. Hand Grenades enable you to live the saying "there are
no solid walls". Hand Grenades are great for making field-expedient
hamburger when the supplies run low.

Do you have an annoying sibling? Hand Grenades can help.

Do you have a boss who doesn't appreciate your work? Hand Grenades can
change his attitude promptly. Hand him one with the pin removed but the
handle still held down, and ask him to re-evaluate your work habits.

Do you have unwanted romantic entanglements? Annoying pets?
A landlord who plays Vivaldi too late at night on his tuba?
Hand Grenades can help in these, and many other, situations.


CASE STUDIES 3 & 4


Anne X came home early one day from her satisfying job as a retail
clerk at a Blockbuster store. When she arrived, she found that her
husband and her sister were having wild, loud sex in the den.
Outraged, she rushed upstairs and dug around in her husband's foot
locker he had kept from his Army days. She found a Hand Grenade.

Rushing downstairs to confront them, she noticed that they had
moved into the kitchen to dress before talking to her. Anne pulled
the pin and threw the grenade into the kitchen, then turned and ran
from the house. The explosion ruptured the gas line to her stove,
causing a secondary explosion that pushed out the back of the house.

Anne collapsed on the lawn. When the police arrived, she told them
that her husband had snapped and had been trying to rape her sister
and had threatened both of them with a grenade, and only she had been
able to escape. Her husbands erratic job performance of late, caused
by his ongoing escapades, was seen as confirmation that he had been
going over the edge. Nobody has since questioned her story. She now
lives on a large estate in the Kentucky Hills, living comfortably off
the settlement her late husband's company made rather than be sued
for stressing him into suicide.


Irene S. was a dedicated MUDer, IRC freak, and all around "geek".
She slept 2-3 hours a night, hadn't had sex with a live human
being in almost two years, and rarely ventured outside during
daylight hours anymore.

While she was hanging out on a MUD, deeply engaged in seducing
(with a male character) another woman who used the MUD often
(who was also using a male character), a crazed dopehead searching
for something to sell to buy more heroin broke into her house.
She didn't notice him until he walked in the doorway of her
bedroom and knocked over her lamp.

She immediately panicked. He jumped on her to keep her quiet,
then noticed that she was nude, and began to have other thoughts.
She thrashed around for something to fend him off with, and her
hand found the dummy/inert hand grenade her last real life lover
had given her as a breaking up present. She screamed and applied
it to the dopehead's head. He collapsed on the floor.

Subsequently, Irene and Jan, the woman she had been seducing,
kept the dopehead in Irene's basement for some time, exacting
all sorts of punishments and pleasures, and despite the bruise
and concussion the dopehead eventually left with a positive feeling
about the whole incident. Irene and Jan both enjoyed it immensely.


THE POWER TO HEAL

As you have seen, Hand Grenades are useful in a wide range of
social situations and stressful encounters. Hand Grenades can
be used to heal wounds as well as deal with disaster or danger.
They are truly a versatile tool for today's modern world.

hahahaha...true