Best resignation letter ever
(An actual letter sent by a fed up U.S IS employee)
Use this as a model for your bright work filled future
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 myself and my co-workers during the
commission of our duties, I can only surmise that you are one of the few
true genetic wastes of our time. Asking me, a network administrator, to
explain every little 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 about Unix, 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 too 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 blue-green algae that everyone else eats and laughs
at. Managers like you are a 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 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 would be unable to do it on your own. 2. I have all the
passwords to every account on the system, and I know every password you
have used for the last five years. If you decide to get cute, I am going
to publish your 'favourites 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 favourably by the administration. 3. When
you borrowed the digital camera to 'take pictures of your mothers b-day',
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
ketchup 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, 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 am 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 administrators, because they know what you do with all
your free time.
Sincerely,
T. Brewer
Taste Death. Live Life.
