Good days and BAD days...

well we all have good days...woohoo....but the bad days...i can do without...take me for example....grins...no, not that way...Thurs bad day, fri and sat good day, sun bad day, mon BAD day, tues better day, and today, bit better again....On a bad day, it is hard to not feel sorry for yourself, to feel the woundsof the recent knife, spear, machete, spade(?), attack upon your soul...so wake up and count your blessings...my blessings?(1)..i am alive....(2)..my son....(3)..have food...unless (2) has raided fridge the night before...grrrrr(4)..have money...unless (2) has raided wallet night before....GRRRR!!!(5)..have friends...(6)..have a life...what blessings do you count when you feel bad...sending hugs if ya feeling downok, and hugs if ya feeling up too...up, down, up, down...sheesh..make up ya mind!!Now here's the solution when ya having a bad day....grinsFor all of you who occasionally have a really bad day when you just need to take it out on someone, don't take that bad day out on someone you know. Instead, take it out on someone unfriendly who you don't know! Now get this. 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 Hannifin and could I please speak to Robin Carter?" Suddenly, 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 her. I had transposed the last two digits incorrectly. After I hung up with Robin, I spotted the wrong number still lying there on my desk. I decided to call it again. When the same person once more answered, I yelled "You're a jackass!" and hung up. Next to his phone number I wrote the word "jackass," 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. He'd answer, and I'd yell, "You're a jackass!" It would always cheer me up. Later in the year, the phone company introduced caller ID. This was a real disappointment for me; I would have to stop calling the jackass. Then, one day, I had an idea. I dialed his number, then heard his voice, "Hello." I made up a name. "Hi, this is Mike Smith with 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 a jackass!" The reason I took the time to tell you this story is to show you how if there's ever anything really bothering you, you can do something about it -- just dial my good ol' friend, the jackass, at 555-1111. [Keep reading! It gets better.] An old lady at the mall really took her time pulling out of the parking place. I didn't think she was ever going to leave. Finally, she got the car in reverse and she began to move ... very slowly backing 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 comes flying up the parking aisle 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 a jackass!" There sure a lot of jackasses in this world. Then I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the back window of his car. I wrote down the number then hunted for another place to park. A couple of days later, I'm at home sitting at my desk. I had just gotten off the phone after calling 555-1111 and yelling, "You're a jackass!" (It's really easy to call him now since I have his number on speed dial.) I noticed the phone number of the guy with the black Camaro lying on my desk and 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 a jackass!" And I slammed the phone down. After I hung up, I added Don Hansen's number to my speed dialer. For a while, things seemed to be going better for me. Now, when I had a problem, I had two jackasses to call. Then, after several weeks of calling the jackasses 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 solution. First, I had my phone dial Jackass #1. A man answered nicely saying, "Hello." I yelled "You're a jackass!", but I didn't hang up. The jackass said, "Are you still there?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Stop calling me." I said, "No." He said, "What's your name, Pal?" I said, "Don Hansen." He said "Where do you live?" "1802 West 34th Street. It's a yellow house and my black Camaro's parked out front." "I'm coming over right now, Don. You'd better start saying your prayers." "Yeah, like I'm really scared, Jackass!" and I hung up. Then I called Jackass #2. He answered, "Hello." I said, "Hello, Jackass!" 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, Jackass!" And I hung up. Then I picked up the phone and called the police. I told them I was at 1802 West 34th Street and that I was going to kill my brother-in-law as soon as he got home. I made another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going down on West 34th Street. After that, I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to watch the whole thing. Glorious! Watching two Jackasses throwing punches and kicking one another in front of 6 squad cars, a police helicopter, and channel 13 news cameras!!! It was one of the greatest experiences of my life! Name withheld to protect the guilty.