Beach Hut
Brighton Bhuna Boy
Well not me but picked this up recently. May have been posted before but a class way to resign from your job:
Dear Mr. Baker,
As an employee of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of my co-workers and myself during the commission of our
duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few genetic wastes of our time.
Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time. You will never understand computers. Something as
incredibly simple as binary still gives you many options. You will also never understand why people hate you but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.
You walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in
others. You have a sharp-dressed useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the green-blue algae that everyone else eats and laughs at.
Managers like you are sad proof of the Dilbert principle. Seeing as this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting thoughts.
1) When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment". I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you will be unable to do it on your own.
2) I have all the passwords to every account in the system and I know every password that you have used for the past five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going to publish your "favorites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me back up your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favorably by the administration.
3) When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your
Mother's birthday", you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please, as I hate having to correct your mistakes).
Thank-you for your time and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day,
Cecelia
Dear Mr. Baker,
As an employee of an institution of higher education, I have a few very basic expectations. Chief among these is that my direct superiors have an intellect that ranges above the common ground squirrel. After your consistent and annoying harassment of my co-workers and myself during the commission of our
duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few genetic wastes of our time.
Asking me, a network administrator, to explain every nuance of everything I do each time you happen to stroll into my office is not only a waste of time, but also a waste of precious oxygen. I was hired because I know how to network computer systems and you were apparently hired to provide amusement to myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" for the hundredth time. You will never understand computers. Something as
incredibly simple as binary still gives you many options. You will also never understand why people hate you but I am going to try and explain it to you, even though I am sure this will be just as effective as telling you what an IP is. Your shiny new iMac has more personality than you ever will.
You walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for fault in
others. You have a sharp-dressed useless look about you that may have worked for your interview, but now that you actually have responsibility, you pawn it off on overworked staff, hoping their talent will cover for your glaring ineptitude. In a world of managerial evolution, you are the green-blue algae that everyone else eats and laughs at.
Managers like you are sad proof of the Dilbert principle. Seeing as this situation is unlikely to change without you getting a full frontal lobotomy reversal, I am forced to tender my resignation, however I have a few parting thoughts.
1) When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment". I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you will be unable to do it on your own.
2) I have all the passwords to every account in the system and I know every password that you have used for the past five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going to publish your "favorites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me back up your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favorably by the administration.
3) When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your
Mother's birthday", you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please, as I hate having to correct your mistakes).
Thank-you for your time and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 a.m. tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day,
Cecelia
