This weeks Friday joke is an urban myth and as such is probably untrue, but I like it anyway. Enjoy:
I was sitting at my desk, when I remembered a phone call I had to make. I found the number and dialed it. A man answered nicely saying,"Hello?" I politely said, "This is Patrick Hanifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" "No it fuckin isn't" he screamed back and the phone was slammed down on me! I couldn't believe that anyone could be that rude. I tracked down Robin's correct number and called him. He had transposed the last two digits incorrectly.
Then one day when I was bored I had an idea. I redialed the original number and when I he answered I said "Hi. This is the sales office of the telephone company and I'm just calling to see if you're familiar with our caller ID program?" He went, "No!" and slammed the phone down. I quickly called him back and said, "That's because you're an arsehole!" Then I saved the phone number under the name "arsehole". Every couple of weeks, when I was paying bills, or had a really bad day, I'd call him up. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're an arsehole!" It would always cheer me up.
Keep reading, it gets better :
The old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking space. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, her car began to move and she started to very slowly back out of the slot. I backed up a little more to give her plenty of room to pull out. Great, I thought, she's finally leaving. All of a sudden this black Camaro came flying up the parking isle in the wrong direction and pulls into her space. I started honking my horn and yelling, "You can't just do that, Buddy. I was here first!"The guy climbed out of his Camaro completely ignoring me. He walked toward the mall as if he didn't even hear me. I thought to myself, this guy's an arsehole, there sure a lot of arseholes in this world. Then I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone with the jackass and I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk. So I thought I'd better call this guy, too. After a couple rings someone answered the phone and said, "Hello." I said,"Is this the man with the black Camaro 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." I said, "What's your name?" "My name is Don Hansen." "When's a good time to catch you, Don?" "I'm home in the evenings." "Listen Don, can I tell you something?" "Yes," "Don, you're an arsehole!" And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For awhile things seemed to be going better for me. Now when I had a problem I had two arseholes to call. Then, after several months of calling the arsehole and hanging up on them, it just wasn't as enjoyable as it used to be. I gave the problem some serious thought and came up with a plan.
First, I phoned arsehole#1. A man answered saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're an arsehole!", but I didn't hang up. The arsehole said, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Stop calling me." I said, "No." He said, "Who are you?" I said, "Don Hansen." He said "I'll find you!" "I said "I'll make it easy, I live on 1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front.". He screams "I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers." "Yeah, like I'm really scared, arsehole!" and I hung up. Then I called arsehole#2. He answered, "Hello." I said, "Hello, arsehole!" He said, "If I ever find out who you are..." "You'll what?" "I'll kick your butt." "Well, here's your chance. I'm coming over right now arsehole!" And I hung up.
Then I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Great fun watching two arsehole kicking the crap out of each other!