A Resignation

Dear Boss,

I’m writing to let you know that it is with regret that I hand in my resignation. I no longer feel comfortable doing my job.

It started with Simmons at the water cooler. He told me that Marsha is sleeping with Johnson, but she wants it kept quiet because her husband might find out.

As Chief Gossip and Director of Jokes, I’m afraid I’m unable to restrain myself. Considering Marsha’s mouthful of jagged, dangerous-looking braces and Johnson’s wooden leg, I’m sure you can understand my predicament.

It’s been a pleasure working with you, particularly during the big printer-blow-up incident of ’13. I heard, due to a miracle of modern medicine, they actually managed to sew Thompson’s testicles back on. Still, the plaque we hung in the printer room is an excellent reminder for everyone why it’s not a good idea to photocopy one’s posterior.

I wish you all the best in the future.

Sincerely,

Bozo

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13 thoughts on “A Resignation

          • “One of my favourite memories from a particularly low point in my 20s was taking a recent immigrant to see Mary Poppins playing at a local theatre. (Pre-everyone-will-have-a-VCR-days — have a crazy story about that too, any ways),” she said.
            Continuing “I hadn’t seen any Bollywood yet, and she knew some of the songs. I can’t sing or speak foreign languages — my English is pretty bad too. But, she valiantly tried teaching me some of the songs in Hindi.”
            Also “she and her mother taught me to make naan, and she stood up to a local boxing champ and refused to go out with him because he was really just a thug in a silk robe. Her words.”
            “No wonder my comments are either 6 words or 600 words! Yikes — if I wrote 1/2 as much on my blog!” she finally finished

          • Cool! I do love naan… There’s a really great Indian food restaurant in Kingston, and I’m going there this weekend… πŸ˜€
            P.S. I often say I can rarely write anything between 500 words and 50K words, so we have that in common… sort of . πŸ˜› hehe

          • “I haven’t had Naan — fresh and hot — in years. I shall be salivating during your trip to Kingston.” “Oh, where in Kingston — new or old?”
            “When my allergies to Indian spices, lentils, chickpeas, soya, etc got worse, I gave up on Indian food. Sigh. Though when that was were everyone wanted to go, I just said — basket of naan and I hope the refills are free.” She laughed, refusing to do word count this time.

          • Old Kingston, Ontario Street, down by the water. I’m so sorry to hear about your allergies… I do know they come and go though, and it seems to be about every seven years we change. Don’t give up! I had hay fever and an allergy to cats from age 21 to 49… Now gone.

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