Editor’s Note: I wrote this letter to my mother because I thought it would be funny to fuck with her. This is a resignation letter I wasn’t going to send and never did. But I think it belongs in the public sphere.
I didn’t have much time to write the letter, so it could have been much longer.
My office job, which I quit recently was nothing less than awful in every respect. I found out the very day I quit my job, when I crashed my aunt and uncle’s house and drank all their Budlight in their garage that this letter was a hook line and sinker.
email:
Justin Smith “Hey I have an exit interview Thursday, can you edit this or even give me constructive criticism. Its mean but I want them to know how I really feel.”
“I thought you were sending me a serious letter to review. I won’t even take the time to give you constructive or destructive feedback. If that is all you have to say, then say nothing and move on.”
The Letter
To the faggots it may concern,
I think you’re all a bunch of no-nothing cunts. I am quitting for copious reasons; let me define the word ‘copious’ for those of you who got your AA in marketing at a junior college in the 80’s, it means a lot.
My biggest problem is with you [removed], who I am pretty sure have been diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome. If I found out you were accused of Munchausen by Proxy in your early parenting years, it wouldn’t surprise me, because your kids are fucking ugly and stupid. Just like you. Only Caligula could have fucked up his kids more than you have.
[removed], you should be strapped to a gurney and force-fed Lithium, like a duck is force-fed in France to produce foie gras and shown Rorschach pictures till the end of your miserable fucking life. I don’t think society should take a chance with someone of your detestable pedigree, violating everyone’s privacy rights for your own financial gain. I bet if I sent everyone who was arrested in the state of California, the address of your house and the office location, you’d think differently about your thin and shit fuck life.
The cameras and microphones in the office are fucking children. None of us are crying and about to choke on our tongues, waiting for you to come to the rescue. I posit you were molested as a child in public bathrooms for several years, and this is why you are afraid to let anyone out of your site. Something, anything might happen oh dear lord, please no. Years later while refusing to seek therapy, I’d imagine you found solace in making shit puppets on top of your toilet seat for a number of years after this traumatic experience.
You have failed to create a life outside of a fucking silent cubicle. I hope you’re bored to tears watching us in silence, with your faggy little panopticon. But you’re probably just jacking off to [removed] cleavage while your wife is out cheating on you, or teaching, whatever she claims to be dong that day.
I hope your fucking kids die of leukemia at an early age because you’re a total fuckin cunt. You think you’re so much smarter than you are because no one wants to talk to you. Nobody wants to engage you because you prattle on for hours about nothing, like a drunk frat sister about all that guys that want to fuck her.
P.S Eat my shit.
