Very funny some four letter words
04-21-2006, 03:56 PM
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Very funny some four letter words 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***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 *******!” and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word ‘*******’ 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 *******!”
It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic “******* calling” would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, “Hi, this is John Smith from 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 *******!”
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 is phone number, so I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first ******* (I had his number on speed dial) I though that I’d better call the BMW ******* 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 *******!” Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two ******** to call.
Then I came up with an idea. I called ******* #1.
“Hello?”
“You’re an *******!” (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?”
“*******, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaulcuse, 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, *******,” and hung up.
Then I called ******* #2. “Hello?” he said.
“Hello, *******.” I said.
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are.”
“You’ll what?” I said!
“I’ll kick your ***,” he exclaimed.
I answered, “Well, *******, 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 ******** 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!
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***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 *******!” and hung up.
I wrote his number down with the word ‘*******’ 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 *******!”
It always cheered me up.
When Caller ID was introduced, I thought my therapeutic “******* calling” would have to stop.
So, I called his number and said, “Hi, this is John Smith from 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 *******!”
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 is phone number, so I wrote down the number.
A couple of days later, right after calling the first ******* (I had his number on speed dial) I though that I’d better call the BMW ******* 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 *******!” Then I hung up, and added his number to my speed dial, too.
Now, when I had a problem, I had two ******** to call.
Then I came up with an idea. I called ******* #1.
“Hello?”
“You’re an *******!” (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?”
“*******, I live at 34 Mowbray Blvd, Vaulcuse, 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, *******,” and hung up.
Then I called ******* #2. “Hello?” he said.
“Hello, *******.” I said.
He yelled, “If I ever find out who you are.”
“You’ll what?” I said!
“I’ll kick your ***,” he exclaimed.
I answered, “Well, *******, 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 ******** 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!
04-21-2006, 04:48 PM
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Originally Posted by Rokko
Suh-WeeT!! 
That's good stuff right there. Makes me wish I would've thought of it.
That's good stuff right there. Makes me wish I would've thought of it.
04-22-2006, 04:13 AM
#6
I'd heard that one a few years ago and it came in handy one night...full weekend actually.
Friday night bout 6pm, tried to call a friend and transposed the last two digits. As soon as I realized what I'd done when he said hello, I apologized and went to hang up...but he decided to be a total *** calling me a "stupid crack ho" and a string of other cliche' nasties. He wasn't drunk which seemed even more confusing to me, just seemed to get off on calling women derrogatory names.
Usually I shrug that crap off.
This time I had PMS.
Soooo...my son was on his way into Seattle to meet with about 10 of his guy friends and go clubbing. I call him up and tell him what happened along with the guys phone number. "Just be sure to pass it to EVERYONE at the club and have fun for me, okay?" (rest assured, he would as they were all in their early 20's and this was a "no drive, all drunk" night out). As soon as he gets to his friends house where about 15 people have gathered he calls me back.
"Hey Mom, what was that guys number again?" (as I hear everyone getting a good start on the drinking in the background).
I start to rattle off the number and my son starts YELLING:
"EVERYONE! HEY DAMMIT! PUT THIS NUMBER IN YOUR PHONES!" and repeats the number to them from me.
Phase one complete. If they remember past that point I would have been surprised.
Apparently they did and not only that but passed it around a crowed club telling everyone "This guy told Mom to f-off and thinks she does crack" which got their hackles up - these are my "kids" and have been for years. So the number makes its way round and apparently by 11PM, said offended misdialed guys voice mail is full of screaming, obscene language, whips cracking in the background (the doorman has it right: a bull whip does more to keep someone out than anything else) but no death threats. They know better. And were too drunk to and having too much fun to go there.
By 3AM the offened misdialed guys number is going to an ever overflowing voicemail.
By 6AM Saturday (party isn't over!) voicemail is cleared and fills up within the hour.
Monday Morning: After a full weekend of getting phone calls for sex, drugs, B&D, Gay hook ups and drunken kids screaming I figure the guy had his phone cut off - there was no way to track all the calls that came in from all the different phone numbers, probably in the hundreds as the kids passed the phone number to *everyone* they came across all weekend long..bums on the street telling them this guy gives money for nothing...panhandlers looking for dope money...pimps trying to make a good weekend...the list really was endless and I only got a few hints of where and who got the number. When the kids travel on a weekend they do so in packs, and everyone knows someone from another group where crank calling is just about unheard of so its fun and new. What a way to pass those weekend down times between dawn to dusk!
I decided to call just to see if the number was working and sure enough, they guy answers probably because I blocked the outgoing number. Silly guy, he should have known better!
Me: "So, did you have a good weekend?"
Him: pause "Uh...who is THIS?"
Me: "Just a person that thinks you are rude to women though I doubt that narrows the field for ya...."
Him: "Look...I'm not like that...I'm NICE to women...I'm at work and...you can ask anyone here..."
Me: "Riiiight. I'm pretty sure your boss would appreciate another full week of phone calls like you got all weekend long. Would YOU appreciate that? It can be done ya know. And let me guess: you have crappy credit and can't get another cell phone number, right?"
Him: "Who ARE you? I'm calling the cops! I have your number! I..."
Me: "No ya don't ya jerk. Its number blocked. Try again."
Him: (he starts yelling at this point) LOOK! IF YOU DON'T STOP CALLING ME I'M CALLING THE POLICE!"
Me: "Yeah...that must be impressive to your co-workers about now...keep yelling, I don't think the people in the building next to you heard that."
Him: (pause and I can hear him drop to his knees) "Lady, I'm sorry. Really. Will you quit calling me? I *can* have you arrested you know."
Me: "Arrested for what? I've called you once to see if you had fun this weekend. The cops would laugh their asses off and I could have *you* arrested for making threats your COWORKERS can now back up for me."
Him (loooong pause) "Oh *****...ok..ok....look it will never happen again I *promise*. Ok? Ok? Just...hang up and ...stop..ok?"
Me: "Well, I guess so but I'll be checking from time to time to see how your weekend was. Fair enough?" (yea, I'm giggling)
Him: "Ok..ok..just...stop! Ok?"
I hung up at that point because hearing the drool coming out of the corner of his mouth and the sweat running down his face was too much of a mental image to bear at 9:30 on a Monday morning.
Just for grins and boredom, the kids hit the phone number again about a month later on another weekend out. I have no idea what happened that round nor checked on Monday to see but my guess is this guy is still using pay phones and is totally paranoid of cell phones
