[Jokes] Fwd: How to hand in your notice in style....

Finn Wilcox finnw at sucs.swan.ac.uk
Sat Nov 24 00:28:00 GMT 2001

---------- Forwarded message ----------
Date: Fri, 23 Nov 2001 20:59:34
From: Gavin Parnaby <yojimbo103 at hotmail.com>
To: finnw at iname.com
Subject: FW: How to hand in your notice in style....

Apparently 'real' resignation letters

An offer of 1 million pounds plus free sex with a page three girl could not
convince me to stay with your company. A position of junior goat herder in
Mongolia would be a more positive career step, than staying here. What a shame.
Our group have worked well, but, yet have been criminally overlooked.

Finally: If you pay peanuts, you get monkeys.


Dear Unpersonable B*tch

As per the piece of crap I signed on my first day of this dreaded job, I hereby
give 2 minutes notice of my intention to leave this awful company.  I want to
thank you for all you have not done for me in my employment here.  It has been
sheer torture working for you and representing this crappy company.  It is now
time for me to move on and I have accepted a position as a garbage person. This
decision was quite easy and took little consideration.  However, I am confident
that this new role represents a step up from this piece of crap job.  I wish
the company would go to pieces and hope one day you too will realise that you
cannot manage your way out of a paper bag.

Glad to be gone,


Dear Editor,
I would like to confirm my status as the latest rodent to vacate your
increasingly leaky vessel.


Dear John:

Please take note of the fact that I am hereby tendering my resignation from,
effective, September 1, 2000. While I have a high degree of personal respect
for you and the opportunities you have offered me, I am no longer comfortable
working for a technology organization largely populated by politocrats,
vengeful rivalries, and fiefdoms reminiscent of imperial Chinese literature. In
fact, I dare say that I would rather be tied in a leather bag with ravenous,
rabid ocelots than remain at this company any longer than the next two weeks.
It was my sincere hope that the reptilian extraterrestrial tyrants who
clandestinely own and operate the Technology Group would reveal themselves
during my tenure here, but it appears they are far cannier then I ever gave
them credit for. Hopefully, their insidious plot to befoul the American
financial industry with foolish and ill-advised technology policies will
eventually be revealed, but until then it seems their plans may march on
uncontested. I give you due credit, for choosing to remain here to fight this
hideous alien menace from within.

God's speed, and may the Force be with you.


Mr. X,

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

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**k with your
sys admin, because they know what you do with all your free time.


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