Dear Mr. Baker,
As an employee of an institution of higher education, I have 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 me during our
commission of 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 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 your employees, who watch you vainly
attempt to understand the concept of “cut and paste” as it is explained
to you 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 wander around the building all day, shiftlessly seeking 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:
- When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for
you to give me a bad recommendation as I have consistently performed my
duties and even more. The most you can say to hurt me is, “I prefer not
to comment.” To keep you honest, I will have friends randomly call you
over the next couple of years, because I know you would be unable to do
it on your own.
- 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 will publish your “Favorites,” which I conveniently saved
when you made me “back up” your useless files. I do believe that terms
like “Lolita” are not viewed favorably by the university
administrations.
- When you borrowed the digital camera to “take pictures of your
mother’s b-day,” you neglected to mention that you were going to take
nude pictures of yourself in the mirror. Then, like the techno-moron you
are, you forgot to erase them. Suffice it to say, I have never seen
such odd acts with a ketchup bottle. I assure you that those photos are
being kept in safe places pending your authoring of a glowing letter of
recommendation. (And, for once, would you please try to use spellcheck? I
hate correcting your mistakes.)
I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow.
One word of this to anybody and all of your twisted little repugnant
obsessions will become public knowledge. Never f*ck with your systems
administrator, Mr. Baker! They know what you do with all that free time!
Sincerely
David Blocker
Network Administrator
Moral: Never mess with you admin, he knows it all.
How was that guys ? comments welcomed
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