Seeing as yesterday was Thursday - Phuza Thursday to be exact - I’m pretty 100% certain of nothing many of you (or just myself) are cursing right now… whilst contemplating potential career suicide, and a rather large cookie.
Luckily, if you are also motionless, sporting a foul odor, and on the verge of throwing up all of last night, some awesome people have put together a step-by-step day-by-day self-generating resignation web application for the temporarily illiterate. Its utter brilliance.
So heres a thanks to SheBee, for nothing other than last nights sexual advances, you should work for Apple. Bzzzzz…
Anyways, heres mine (with some editing):
23 July 2010
Dear Mr. Tad Annoying
This is one of the most difficult letters I have ever written, as they don’t make keyboards with rude gesture keys or an instant self destruct upon CTRL+ALT+DEL. But I’ve realised I’d rather work in a sweatshop in Guam whilst under the influence of spider poison and testicular cancer.
This is to inform you that I can no longer work here, as the aliens are taking me to their mothership and providing me with a complimentary enema – in order to flush out all the shit I have taken in the name of employee loyalty.
I’ll always remember my time here and realise why some mammals eat their young from the inside out. You’ve taught me the fine art of psychological torture, downward facing boners, and sexual harassment in the office. Working for you has been a true test of my sobriety and lack thereof. You remind me of a good joke I once heard before flushing my own head in a public urinal.
I’d like to thank you for the company petrol card… as well as reducing my sexual stamina to 15 seconds..
Please accept my resignation you witless git.
Yours regrettably for that one painful night,
Icepick.
P.S. don’t forget to pick up your own gimpsuit from the laundry.
