01-07-2006, 07:37 PM
A man takes his wife to the State Fair and one of the exhibits is that of breeding bulls.
They come up to the first pen and there is a sign that says"This Bull mated 50 times
last year." The wife pokes her husband in the ribs and says, "He mated 50 times last year."
They walked a little further and see another pen with a sign that says, "This Bull mated
120 times last year." The wife hits her husband and says "That's more than twice a week!
You could learn a lot from him."
They walk further and a third pen has a Bull with a sign saying "This Bull mated 365 times
last year." The wife gets really excited and says "That's once a day. You could REALLY learn
something from this one."
The husband looks at her and says .... "Go up and ask him if it was with the same cow."
After nine surgeries and six years of therapy, the husband is now able to talk. It is hoped
that someday he will walk again.
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<< HOW TO HANDLE ANGER
For all of you who 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 had forgotten to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man
answered saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, could I please
speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I
couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
I tracked down Robin's correct number, and called her.
(I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number).
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 came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling
would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John
Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're familiar
with the caller ID program?" he yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"
So, one day I was at the store, getting ready to pull
into a parking spot. Some boy 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 had been
waiting for the spot.
The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in
his car window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first
asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the
BMW asshole, too.
I dialed and someone said, "Hello?"
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes it is."
"Can you tell me where I can see it?"
"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and the car's
parked right out 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.
But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.
So, 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 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house with my black
Beemer 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."
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 802 West 34th Street, and I was on my way over there
to kill my gay lover.
Then, I called Channel 13 news about the gang war going down on West 34th St
I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th St.
There, I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of 6
squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
Now, I feel better.
They come up to the first pen and there is a sign that says"This Bull mated 50 times
last year." The wife pokes her husband in the ribs and says, "He mated 50 times last year."
They walked a little further and see another pen with a sign that says, "This Bull mated
120 times last year." The wife hits her husband and says "That's more than twice a week!
You could learn a lot from him."
They walk further and a third pen has a Bull with a sign saying "This Bull mated 365 times
last year." The wife gets really excited and says "That's once a day. You could REALLY learn
something from this one."
The husband looks at her and says .... "Go up and ask him if it was with the same cow."
After nine surgeries and six years of therapy, the husband is now able to talk. It is hoped
that someday he will walk again.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
<< HOW TO HANDLE ANGER
For all of you who 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 had forgotten to make. I found the number, and dialed it. A man
answered saying, "Hello?" I politely said, "This is Fred Hanifin, could I please
speak with Robin Carter?" Suddenly, the phone was slammed down on me. I
couldn't believe that anyone could be so rude.
I tracked down Robin's correct number, and called her.
(I had transposed the last two digits of her phone number).
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 came to our area, I thought my therapeutic 'asshole' calling
would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, "Hi, this is John
Smith from the Telephone Company. I'm just calling to see if you're familiar
with the caller ID program?" he yelled, "NO!" and slammed the phone down.
I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an asshole!"
So, one day I was at the store, getting ready to pull
into a parking spot. Some boy 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 had been
waiting for the spot.
The idiot ignored me. I noticed a "For Sale" sign in
his car window, so I wrote down his number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first
asshole (I had his number on speed dial), I thought I had better call the
BMW asshole, too.
I dialed and someone said, "Hello?"
I said, "Is this the man with the black BMW for sale?"
"Yes it is."
"Can you tell me where I can see it?"
"Yes, I live at 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and the car's
parked right out 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.
But after several months of calling them, it wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be.
So, 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 1802 West 34th Street, a yellow house with my black
Beemer 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."
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 802 West 34th Street, and I was on my way over there
to kill my gay lover.
Then, I called Channel 13 news about the gang war going down on West 34th St
I quickly got into my car and headed over to 34th St.
There, I saw two assholes beating the crap out of each other in front of 6
squad cars, a police helicopter, and a news crew.
Now, I feel better.