A note to my coworker ... (1 Viewer)

[[icon]]

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

Dude.

 

[General Malaise]

' date='Feb 16 2007, 01:02 PM' post='6358603']

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

Dude.

i know...i'm trying to keep things brief, but i keep failing. once i get going, i just can't stop.

 

[[icon]]

' date='Feb 16 2007, 01:02 PM' post='6358603']

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

Dude.

i know...i'm trying to keep things brief, but i keep failing. once i get going, i just can't stop.

No. It's QUITE alright. <_< That rocked. Next?!

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

' date='Feb 16 2007, 01:02 PM' post='6358603']Dude.

i know...i'm trying to keep things brief, but i keep failing. once i get going, i just can't stop.

You are appreciated. Well done.

 

[Notorious T.R.E.]

<_<

 

[General Malaise]

' date='Feb 16 2007, 01:06 PM' post='6358635']No. It's QUITE alright. <_< That rocked. Next?!

Thanks. I've got two more former coworkers that will 'get theirs' next week. this is theraputic. best thread on the FFA in years.

 

[Shooter McGavin]

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

<_< :X That was like Gordon Gekko, but interesting.

for next week.

 

[Irregardless]

GM + this thread =

 

[UlyssesNorris]

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

Awesome.

 

[BroadwayG]

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

I just wanted to quote your entire post, too.

 

[UlyssesNorris]

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC -

Well, it's been almost 5 years since you've gone and, yup, I still don't miss you. And while I was absolutely dumbfounded when my boss hired you away from selling high end Herman Miller Aeon chairs the day after you delivered them to our office, nothing could prepare me for the incredible incompetence and the head-spinning stupidity that you brought along with you.

Sure, you were sort of cute in a pixie hair-cut, tom-boy sort of way and I'm sure to a 58-year old THRICE divorced gazillionaire looking for a younger girl to get his mind off the impending anal raping the courts of California were going to levy against him for his sham of an 18 month marriage to a shrew of a gold digging third wife you were a welcome distraction, but your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party.

And speaking of foul breath, you wrote the book on it, sweetheart. It's utterly fantastic that you are a vegetarian and took the time to lobby the rest of us into your dietary ways while condemning us for being heartless carnivores, but here's a newsflash - gulping down 7 Diet Cokes a day, chain smoking cigarettes and pouring through a salt shaker full of salt weekly is destroying any nutritional advantage your meatless diet has brought to your life. Furthermore, the vaporized combination of cigarettes, diet soda and brussel sprouts made me barf in my mouth a little every time you came up and asked me a question - which was way way, way way way way way WAY too often.

Moreover, while I always found it curious that my boss hired you to work for him, you could have done a wee bit better of a job hiding the fact that you were either banging him at the time, or wanted to severely. The love-sick puppy-dog eyes you gazed upon him every time he entered your radius was about as furtive as a fart in a crowded elevator. I always assumed he hired you because he wanted to spank your pee pee, but when he actually started acting like your boss and getting pissed off because of your myriad gaffes and ineffectual work ethic, crying and acting like a jilted lover in the office was probably the wrong thing to do if you two had any designs at concealing your relationship. No cookie is worth the trouble you put him and the rest of us through, and no, I don't care that you were 30 years his junior. You sucked during your time here and the fact that you knew absolutely nothing about computers, spreadsheets, accounting, finance was probably an important thing to mention to us all when you agreed to do all these things for him.

But that's not the worst part of this and you know it. No, the absolute worst thing about your time here is that you somehow, someway, used the power of your vulva to convince my boss to mandate a weekly hour long session of Yoga, led by you, in our office. That's right, despite the fact that you couldn't turn a computer on, balance a check book or organize my boss's personal life in any sensible manner, you were able to convince him that we all needed Yoga and that you, sensei, were the right person to lead us. For weeks, I held out, refusing to take part in your Yoga classes, seething that my boss fell for your ridiculous plea to get us all on to floor mats for an hour to do fake handstands, work on our breathing (something I’ve managed on my own just fine since birth, you idiot), stretch and generally have what used to be called "NAP TIME" when I was a child. Regrettably, after you called me out in front of the office and whined to my boss that I wasn't participating in Yoga class, I was 'pressured' to join in on your little stretching routine. Congratulations, I can now bend over and touch the floor, take a deep breath and close my eyes. What a freaking revelation! Where on earth have you been my whole life? Thankfully, my boss stopped attending Yoga soon after, which meant I was done as well. And no, I didn't really have a dental appointment every week thereafter, you moron.

Finally, after my boss was done with you and it was clear to all that you were really just an incompetent boob, you were fired. You knew it was coming, but you broke down all the same. On your way out, you stole a space heater and didn't think anybody would notice. I did. That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check.

Toodles,

GM

Oh, and PS - nice painting you left us. No, really. This is just magnificent work and I hung it up near the fire escape where nobody can see it. My favorite part of the painting is the part where you glued down a taxi-cab air freshener in the shape of a tree. That knock on your door? Ohhh, it's not NYU Art School with a scholarship. The Painting.

I just wanted to quote your entire post, too.

 

[St. Louis Bob]

"your appeal and charm wore off like a tic-tac after a scat party"

 

[mr. furley]

Hey,

Just wanted to say thanks for sticking around the office all week even though you have been coughing, to the point of choking, and nursing a 102+ temp all week. Seriously. I really appreciate your passing your cold on to me. I can feel it kicking in now.. just in time for the weekend.

 

[Rhino]

My frustration for the week...

We got hit pretty hard here in the Midwest with snow storms on Tuesday and Wednesday. It was no surprise that many of the people in the office took this as an opportunity to call in "snow days" and not show up to work, despite the fact that our boss reminded us on Monday that the only excuse for not showing up to work was if there was an official "snow emergency" declared. (meaning you legally were not allowed to be on the roads)

So Tuesday morning I woke earlier than normal, knowing the roads would be snow and ice covered and made my way to work. Only my Boss, me, and one other guy who lives less than a mile from the office showed up. (we have 10 people in our office) Tuesday night we got hit with even more snow, so I woke Wednesday morning and spent more than 3 hours digging out of my driveway to finally make it to work 2 hours late.

Note that a snow emeergency was NOT declared for our county on either Tuesday or Wednesday, despite the fact that emergencies had been called in many of the surrounding counties. Since there was no emergency I felt I should go to work.

So finally yesterday (Thursday) everyone starts showing up to work again. Today my boss sends an e-mail to the whole office reminding people that as they do their timesheets they need to take vacation time for the days they didn't show up to work on Tuesday and Wednesday, since the office wasn't officially closed.

So a small group of my co-workers take it upon themselves to gather at my desk and grill me about why I had the nerve to show up for work and make them all look bad? What was I thinking? Because I managed to show up (and I live further from work than all but two people in the office) they all now get screwed out of their vacation time. (not really - but it helps them to have someone to blame it on...)

Sorry you're all pissed that you played hooky and now you have to use vacation days. The boss was pretty clear on Monday about what the rules were - you decided to stay home that was your choice, not mine. Don't get pissed at me just because I don't freak out over snow and ice and I know how to actually drive in it.

Lazy co-workers piss me off.

That is all. Thanks for letting me vent.

 

[Nucular George]

Setting this up as a website has explosive, "post-secret" like potential. Someone make this happen, seriously.

Yeah, too bad no one has ever thought of that. Oh well.....

Thanks for the link....

Pretty sure someone got a timeout for posting the link in question. I can't even remember what it was now. Pretty graphic "letters" to the workplace offenders.

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

That is all. Thanks for letting me vent.

"That why were here."

 

[SeveredHorseHeads]

Hey moron,

Thanks for sending an 750 page print job to the single page printer. I know it's probably a big deal to walk the extra five steps to the high volume printers around the corner. Oh yeah, don't bother filling the paper tray either when it inevitably runs out of paper trying to print the novel you sent it. Just leave it like that for most of the day so someone else will do it in an effort to free the printer for others to use. Better yet, after everything is finished, don't even bothing picking the finished product up. Just leave it there until someone throws it out. Probably wasn't important anyway. Whatever your printing must not be, since you do this every other week.

Maybe instead of throwing it out, this time, I'll come by your cube and spike it in your ####### face.

SHH

 

[MelvinTScupper]

Dear trade reconciliation lady.

Thanks for running that trade with an incorrect value, and boosting my IRA to 39.5million last week. Using that buying power has been AWESOME!

:thumbsup:

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

Hey moron,Thanks for sending an 750 page print job to the single page printer. I know it's probably a big deal to walk the extra five steps to the high volume printers around the corner. Oh yeah, don't bother filling the paper tray either when it inevitably runs out of paper trying to print the novel you sent it. Just leave it like that for most of the day so someone else will do it in an effort to free the printer for others to use. Better yet, after everything is finished, don't even bothing picking the finished product up. Just leave it there until someone throws it out. Probably wasn't important anyway. Whatever your printing must not be, since you do this every other week. Maybe instead of throwing it out, this time, I'll come by your cube and spike it in your ####### face.SHH

 

[St. Louis Bob]

Dear chick who over uses the shredder,

First, all of your #### isn't so ####### important that someone is going to be going through the trash for your "important" documents.

Second, it's a shredder. Not a vaporizer. The paper you put in accumulates in the large bin below. I know you must know this because I saw you put a heavy box in front of the door to keep it from opening there was so much ####### paper in it.

Don't worry about it. I'll empty it. I hate you.

Jesus loves you,

Bob

 

[Mrs. BSR]

Dear Co-workers, When I asking a question to a specific person, I can do without an answer from everybody else. No...the loudest answer doesn't win. No...we're not trying to steal the bank on Family Feud. Regards,TGIF

Oh, and GM, you still got it baby!

 

[Mrs. BSR]

Dear chick who over uses the shredder,

First, all of your #### isn't so ####### important that someone is going to be going through the trash for your "important" documents.

Second, it's a shredder. Not a vaporizer. The paper you put in accumulates in the large bin below. I know you must know this because I saw you put a heavy box in front of the door to keep it from opening there was so much ####### paper in it.

Don't worry about it. I'll empty it. I hate you.

Jesus loves you,

Bob

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

You're college-educated, yet, you still say "axe" instead of "ask." I'll never get it. Oh, well ... call me! Or, you could just come over to my desk ... whatever works for you.

 

[General Malaise]

Dear Co-workers, When I asking a question to a specific person, I can do without an answer from everybody else. No...the loudest answer doesn't win. No...we're not trying to steal the bank on Family Feud. Regards,TGIF

Oh, and GM, you still got it baby!

and I agree....the submission above was excellent. The Family Feud line was classic.

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

I'm glad I created this thread. Now I know that there are others like me. Misery s company.

 

[[icon]]

Dear fat guy who walks past the staircase to take the elevator to the 2nd floor every day,

I hope your heart explodes tonight in your sleep

Love

Icon

 

[saintfool]

I'm glad I created this thread. Now I know that there are others like me. Misery s company.

this is a point to the FFA after all!

 

[avoiding injuries]

Dear Manager,

You are the biggest motivation killer I have ever encountered. It's ok to give a compliment once in a while instead of the could've, should've would've bulls*** that you spew out of your mouth every day. Everyone is waiting for you to retire, and if you don't do it soon, you will be forced to.

And co-worker,

You back stabbing, conieving, hidden agenda piece of ####. You are the worst person I have met in my relatively young life. There is no one on this planet I dislike being around more than you. Nobody lets their guard down when you come around because you are always looking for a way to get ahead through the destruction of others. I honestly feel bad for your husband and children. It make no sense to me how a man can love you, and even worse, procreate with you. Your genes should not be allowed to continue. The facial expressions you make cause my skin to crawl. Your voice sounds like nails on a chalk board. I have not met one person that enjoys your company or looks forward to seeing you. You are the walking black plague.

 

[Shutterbug]

And co-worker, You back stabbing, conieving, hidden agenda piece of ####. You are the worst person I have met in my relatively young life. There is no one on this planet I dislike being around more than you. Nobody lets their guard down when you come around because you are always looking for a way to get ahead through the destruction of others. I honestly feel bad for your husband and children. It make no sense to me how a man can love you, and even worse, procreate with you. Your genes should not be allowed to continue. The facial expressions you make cause my skin to crawl. Your voice sounds like nails on a chalk board. I have not met one person that enjoys your company or looks forward to seeing you. You are the walking black plague.

Why don't you tell us how you really feel, now?

 

[boots11234]

Dear SOB,

You do not write good code. Code with no notes in it is ####ty code. I know, I know you think any 'good programmer' should just be able to look at the code and know what it does. But your wrong. Since you have left I have had to spend countless hours trying to figure WTF you have done. Oh and by the way 'good code' doesnt need fixes put in DAILY!!!

I am glad that your wife writes for NPR and that you are now running through the Amazon following natives and learning how they farm in that #### hole (and no to all, Im not joking). Im glad that you are gone. No one liked you, most of all me. You were a ##### and I hope fire ants attack you when you are sleeping.

I could go on but I shall not. Just rest assured your old ### is not missed.

Good luck with the ants.

Regards,

Jim

PS I hope you are attacked by wild animals.

 

[Rhino]

You back stabbing, conieving, hidden agenda piece of ####. You are the worst person I have met in my relatively young life. There is no one on this planet I dislike being around more than you. Nobody lets their guard down when you come around because you are always looking for a way to get ahead through the destruction of others. I honestly feel bad for your husband and children. It make no sense to me how a man can love you, and even worse, procreate with you. Your genes should not be allowed to continue. The facial expressions you make cause my skin to crawl. Your voice sounds like nails on a chalk board. I have not met one person that enjoys your company or looks forward to seeing you. You are the walking black plague.

She works at your company now? I worked with this woman about 3 years ago! Good Luck with that!

 

[Parmcat]

Dear ladies in the office that have chosen not to have kids,

When the rest of us are having a discussion about family, and what out kids are up to, please do not join in the conversation, and interject that your "kids" do the same thing.

You ####### dogs are not kids. I dont give a #### that they can turn the ####### TV on and off with thier noses. I really could give two ####s what your dogs favourite TV show is.

OH, and I am still trying to figure out when your old dog died 3 years ago, how the #### you were granted bereavement time for the loss.

This is the true meaning of Dog ####er.

I hope they get electrocued on the tv with thier wet noses.

Parm

 

[Ptomaine]

Dear 38DD sporting co-worker

Gravity is not your friend. A National Geographic photographer just called to ask if you were available for a photo shoot.

 

[Pick]

Dear 80% of my students,

It's called a bath. Sometimes, bad sinuses are a good thing.

 

[Shooter McGavin]

Dear ladies in the office that have chosen not to have kids,When the rest of us are having a discussion about family, and what out kids are up to, please do not join in the conversation, and interject that your "kids" do the same thing.You ####### dogs are not kids. I dont give a #### that they can turn the ####### TV on and off with thier noses. I really could give two ####s what your dogs favourite TV show is.OH, and I am still trying to figure out when your old dog died 3 years ago, how the #### you were granted bereavement time for the loss.This is the true meaning of Dog ####er.I hope they get electrocued on the tv with thier wet noses.Parm

Dear people talking about their children/grandchildren/anyone they know under the age of 16,I don't give a #### about your children or what they are doing. And their pictures? If I don't want to hear about them, what makes you think that I want to see pictures of them doing "cute" things? Your children are ugly, just like you. You combine two steaming piles of crap, and you're expecting a rose to result?No, I don't have kids, and I don't have any plans to have them. I don't really think I should have to explain the reasons for that. It's none of your ####### business. I like having my own interests. Your kids are not one of them. Please shut the your cake hole.Love and kisses,SM

 

[Parmcat]

Dear ladies in the office that have chosen not to have kids,When the rest of us are having a discussion about family, and what out kids are up to, please do not join in the conversation, and interject that your "kids" do the same thing.You ####### dogs are not kids. I dont give a #### that they can turn the ####### TV on and off with thier noses. I really could give two ####s what your dogs favourite TV show is.OH, and I am still trying to figure out when your old dog died 3 years ago, how the #### you were granted bereavement time for the loss.This is the true meaning of Dog ####er.I hope they get electrocued on the tv with thier wet noses.Parm

Dear people talking about their children/grandchildren/anyone they know under the age of 16,I don't give a #### about your children or what they are doing. And their pictures? If I don't want to hear about them, what makes you think that I want to see pictures of them doing "cute" things? Your children are ugly, just like you. You combine two steaming piles of crap, and you're expecting a rose to result?No, I don't have kids, and I don't have any plans to have them. I don't really think I should have to explain the reasons for that. It's none of your ####### business. I like having my own interests. Your kids are not one of them. Please shut the your cake hole.Love and kisses,SM

 

[Regular Crust Pizza]

I just started working in my company's new office, and am waiting for them to hire more staff on. There are people at the office occassionally but for the most part I'm on my own. I was looking forward to having co-workers around, now thanks to this thread, I'm dreading that day.

Ruining all things good, a blight to joy, and destroyers of hope: the FFA

Thanks,

RCP

 

[certificate]

Dear half of the people I work with,

When you're telling me some uncomfortable story, and I keep moving further and further away, this is a sign that I'm trying to end the conversation. Please take a damn hint and stop following me around corners and through doorways.

Thanks.

 

[Sack-Religious]

Dear artsy-fartsy former assistant to my boss who now works for a museum or something in NYC - ....Toodles,GM

Well worth the wait.

"That's why I made you send us a check for it and no I don't care that you wrote "#### you, forrest" on the memo line of your check. "

Even my wife was at this last line.

 

[Shooter McGavin]

Dear ladies in the office that have chosen not to have kids,When the rest of us are having a discussion about family, and what out kids are up to, please do not join in the conversation, and interject that your "kids" do the same thing.You ####### dogs are not kids. I dont give a #### that they can turn the ####### TV on and off with thier noses. I really could give two ####s what your dogs favourite TV show is.OH, and I am still trying to figure out when your old dog died 3 years ago, how the #### you were granted bereavement time for the loss.This is the true meaning of Dog ####er.I hope they get electrocued on the tv with thier wet noses.Parm

Dear people talking about their children/grandchildren/anyone they know under the age of 16,I don't give a #### about your children or what they are doing. And their pictures? If I don't want to hear about them, what makes you think that I want to see pictures of them doing "cute" things? Your children are ugly, just like you. You combine two steaming piles of crap, and you're expecting a rose to result?No, I don't have kids, and I don't have any plans to have them. I don't really think I should have to explain the reasons for that. It's none of your ####### business. I like having my own interests. Your kids are not one of them. Please shut the your cake hole.Love and kisses,SM

The quote was because your post just reminded me of another thing in the office that annoys me. Nothin' personal

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

Boss:

Allowing us to wear jeans today doesn't make up for the fact that we have to be here on a holiday. Thanks, though.

Your slut,

Nigel

 

[The Shizzle]

Hey Boss,

When you ask me out for a couple boilermakers on a Friday night, when I say I stopped drinking, I'm actually lying to you. I just don't want your company any longer than 40 hours.

Thanks,

Dave

 

[mr. furley]

Dear guy who sits behind me,

STOP ####ING FARTING OUT LOUD!!!! It would be one thing if we were in an office full of men and your farting was funny. But i'm pretty certain that you aren't aware that farting loudly is a social faux pas.

Thanks.

seriously. half the time i'm certain that my office is being broadcast over the innerwebs. no way this collection of freaks was put together by accident. everyone is in on the joke but me.

 

[WampusCat43]

Boss:

Allowing us to wear jeans today doesn't make up for the fact that we have to be here on a holiday. Thanks, though.

Your slut,

Nigel

Along that same vein:Boss:

I know it's a bank holiday, so nearly everybody here is a contractor like me. Would it have been too much to ask that you not flip off the network on your way to the beach last Friday? Then leave your phone off the hook so no one can reboot the sucker? It's taken us an hour just to get internet access, and since we can't get to any of our data drives, I have nothing better to do than...post in the FFA...all...day.

Workee workee busy bee,

Wamp

 

[Keys Myaths]

Dear 1st-year MBA moron:

Just stop talking. Seriously.

While we're all sitting in the lounge, a lot of us are actually working. We don't need your stories and loud rantings about how much coffee you drink. We don't care. Your random, inane comments make me want to throw my face through a glass window.

By the way, in class, please shut the #### up. You remember that kid in 2nd grade who raised his hand on every question, yet never had anything to say? Yeah, most of them grew out of it. Apparently, you missed that somehow. Didn't the kids around you make fun of you a lot? Didn't you learn? Yeah, we don't do that to you anymore, but it doesn't mean we've stopped behind your back. Quit referencing Apple and iPod in EVERY case study. Please. Steve Jobs is NOT God, and Teach for America can't really learn a whole lot from Apple's resurgence.

And when we're drinking at happy hour, stop trying to talk about cases and assignments. We're drinking so we forget about all that ####.

Oh, and we KNOW you didn't go to Mardi Gras. Quit making up idiotic stories.

How do we know? You asked every last one of us to go with you. When 80 separate people have "plans", you know there's something you probably need to look at.

Please die,

Keys

 

[saintfool]

Please die,Keys

Methinks someone protests too much...

 

[Shooter McGavin]

Dear Drama Queen,

There is no way in hell the onions from my salad are so strong that they are causing your eyes to water. They were chopped 5 hours ago.

Yours in Christ,

S to the M

 

[Bert]

Dear Speaker phone Guy,

Pick up the damn phone you idiot. Using the speaker phone for every call does not make you cool. It makes you an f'n dork.

 

[Gamblor]

 

[Nigel Tufnel]

Boss:Allowing us to wear jeans today doesn't make up for the fact that we have to be here on a holiday. Thanks, though.Your slut,Nigel

P.S. "Jeans" does not mean sweatpants. Slob.