Mood:...Runny nose...tears
Song of Choice: "Sour Girl" by Stone Temple Pilots
Topic: Many things
Days That Have Passed Since I sent Eric's Letter: 7 Weeks and 5 days
Days Until Spring Break:24

Lord...the allergies! Oh well I had fun yesterday anyway. Man...Etebari needs to write me...Anywho um..I was going to do a

Public Servive Announcy

No one e-mail me for the next couple of days...my hotmail inbox is being stupid yet again...but since I've managed to get over 200 messages to fit in the little thing I think that's an accomplishment you know...but I gotta start deleting now and well...I don't want to like I have everything Geimer and Peter and Jun and Lum and Cat and Nori have ever sent me....Damnit...well yeah but some of it has to go you know...um...with that said if you gotta reach me e-mail me at silent_epiphany01@yahoo.com or the old Foxiroxie2hotmail.com okay so yes with that said read what's left...oh and expect a nex layout in the coming days.

(12:04 Disregard I got it back to a decent level)

Subject: Bad Day?

For 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, take it out on someone 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 Hanifin 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. She had transposed the last two digits. 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 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 823-4863.

[Keep reading, it gets better.!]

This 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 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. I noticed he had a "For Sale" sign in the
back window of his car. I wrote down the number. Then I 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 823-4863 and yelling, "You're
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 months 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 gay lover as
soon as he got home.

Another quick call to Channel 13 about the gang war going on down W.
34th Street.

After that I climbed into my car and headed over to 34th Street to
watch the whole thing. Glorious! Watching two Jackasses kicking the
crap out of each other in front of 6 squad cars and a police
helicopter was one of the greatest experiences of my life!

Name withheld to protect the guilty.