This is the funniest junk email I've ever recieved.

If You've had a 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 i t. A man answered, saying
Hello." I politely said, "This is Dylan. 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 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 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 asshole!" 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 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?"
He said, "Yes, it is." I asked, "Can you tell me where I can see it?"
He said, "Yes, I live at 34 Oaktree Blvd, It's a yellow rambler, and
the car's parked r ight 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 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.
He said, "Hello."
I said, "You're an asshole!" (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, "Asshole, I live at 34
Oaktree Blvd, a yellow split-level, 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, asshole," and hung up.
Then I called Asshole #2. He said, "Hello?"
I said, "Hello, asshole,"
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, 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
Oaktree Blvd, 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 Oaktree
Blvd. I quickly got into my car and headed over there. 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 news helicopter and surrounded by a news
crew.

NOW, I feel much better.

Anger management really does work.