.:sexta-feira, outubro 31, 2008:.
System admin resign letter template
Esta estava no Blog do meu mano... amei tanto que tive de copiar para aqui... lololol
System admin resign letter template
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As a graduate of an institution of higher education, I have a 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 coworkers and me during the commission of our 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 little 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 myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" 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 walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for 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. Since 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.
1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment." I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.
2. 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 am going to publish your "favourites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favourably by the administration.
3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your Mother's birthday," you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please; I hate having to correct your mistakes.)
Thank you for your time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day.
Precioso... simplesmente genial...
Isarma
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System admin resign letter template
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As a graduate of an institution of higher education, I have a 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 coworkers and me during the commission of our 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 little 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 myself and other employees, who watch you vainly attempt to understand the concept of "cut and paste" 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 walk around the building all day, shiftlessly looking for 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. Since 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.
1. When someone calls you in reference to employment, it is illegal for you to give me a bad recommendation. The most you can say to hurt me is "I prefer not to comment." I will have friends randomly call you over the next couple of years to keep you honest, because I know you would be unable to do it on your own.
2. 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 am going to publish your "favourites list", which I conveniently saved when you made me "back up" your useless files. I do believe that terms like "Lolita" are not usually viewed favourably by the administration.
3. When you borrowed the digital camera to "take pictures of your Mother's birthday," you neglected to mention that you were going to take pictures of yourself in the mirror nude. Then you forgot to erase them like the techno-moron you really are. Suffice it to say I have never seen such odd acts with a sauce bottle, but I assure you that those have been copied and kept in safe places pending the authoring of a glowing letter of recommendation. (Try to use a spell check please; I hate having to correct your mistakes.)
Thank you for your time, and I expect the letter of recommendation on my desk by 8:00 am tomorrow. One word of this to anybody, and all of your little twisted repugnant obsessions will be open to the public. Never f*** with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day.
Precioso... simplesmente genial...
Isarma
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.:domingo, outubro 19, 2008:.
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
Não consigo ficar deprimida ou em baixo... simplesmente não consigo...
eu amo mesmo viver, lololol
Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo
Isarma/Adsharta
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eu amo mesmo viver, lololol
Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo
Isarma/Adsharta
Etiquetas: Somewhere Over the Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo
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.:terça-feira, outubro 07, 2008:.
Back to Black
Back to Black
Amy Winehouse
Composição: Amy Winehouse
He left no time to regret
Kept his dick wet
With his same old safe bet
Me and my head high
And my tears dry
Get on without my guy
You went back to what you know
So far removed from all that we went through
And I tread a troubled track
My odds are stacked
I'll go back to black
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to...
I go back to us
I love you much
It's not enough
You love blow and I love puff
And life is like a pipe
And I'm a tiny penny rolling up the walls inside
We only said goodbye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to
Black, black, black, black, black, black, black
I go back to
I go back to
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to
We only said good-bye with words
I died a hundred times
You go back to her
And I go back to black
Justamente quando eu estava a deixar de roer as unhas... ai, ai... fazer o quê...
Isarma
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.:domingo, setembro 21, 2008:.
Paragens de autocarros
E então lá estava eu na paragem... vocês sabem como é.
Pessoalmente ADORO paragens de autocarros, conhecem-se pessoas únicas e as histórias, oh meu Deus, as histórias...
Quanto mais idosos e numerosos são os cidadãos, mais numerosos e sumarentos são os detalhes. Tudo começa com o tempo... ou talvez a politica... na verdade, tudo começa mesmo no atraso do autocarro, que é culpa do governo e o tempo, bem, é o tempo, ou chove de mais ou faz calor de mais, o que acaba por ser culpa do governo indirectamente pois está na mesma conversa...
"Mas olhe, ainda no outro dia, eu vi (ou ouvi)..." e pimba, o interesse está lançado, o enredo é suficientemente genérico para todos se identificarem, vai ter drama, sofrimento, muita cuscuvilhice e não, repito, não, vai acabar bem para os envolvidos. Queres filmes com final feliz vai ao cinema... toma lá esta.
Mas no entanto estamos todos colados em cada palavra que a senhora diz, já com um bitaite pronto para lançar, quiçá se formos rápidos podemos meter a nossa própria miséria lá pelo meio, receber alguma dessa simpatia e compreensão que todos tanto queremos, gostamos e, que raios, na nossa idade, MERECEMOS.
"Oh sim, que isto no meu tempo..." e agora é que vamos mesmo ter um relato em primeira voz do antigamente, qual RTP Memória, deviam era entrevistar idosos nas paragens, viravam nª1 de audiências. E aí é que vem a contribuição geral, muito ao estilo saudosista, da época em que viveram, agora não estão vivos ou assim não se sentem, com toda esta electrónica, internet, telemóveis, já ninguem racha lenha, literalmente, pois estão agora calados e perdidos nas suas recordações.
Tempo só há para um ou dois suspiros, lá vem o autocarro, "É a vida", "Até qualquer dia", "Vizinha, cumprimentos á familia", etc e tal, são 10 a entrar para o autocarro, mas entre os que entram e os que ficam, com as despedidas, sacos de compras, miudos chorões a serem arrastados, idosos de bengalas ou muletas que a idade chega a todos e a todos se deseja que chegue quando cantamos Parabêns a mais um ano, mais parecem não 10 mas uns 30.
E é por isso que o autocarro vem atrasado. lololol
Isarma
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Pessoalmente ADORO paragens de autocarros, conhecem-se pessoas únicas e as histórias, oh meu Deus, as histórias...
Quanto mais idosos e numerosos são os cidadãos, mais numerosos e sumarentos são os detalhes. Tudo começa com o tempo... ou talvez a politica... na verdade, tudo começa mesmo no atraso do autocarro, que é culpa do governo e o tempo, bem, é o tempo, ou chove de mais ou faz calor de mais, o que acaba por ser culpa do governo indirectamente pois está na mesma conversa...
"Mas olhe, ainda no outro dia, eu vi (ou ouvi)..." e pimba, o interesse está lançado, o enredo é suficientemente genérico para todos se identificarem, vai ter drama, sofrimento, muita cuscuvilhice e não, repito, não, vai acabar bem para os envolvidos. Queres filmes com final feliz vai ao cinema... toma lá esta.
Mas no entanto estamos todos colados em cada palavra que a senhora diz, já com um bitaite pronto para lançar, quiçá se formos rápidos podemos meter a nossa própria miséria lá pelo meio, receber alguma dessa simpatia e compreensão que todos tanto queremos, gostamos e, que raios, na nossa idade, MERECEMOS.
"Oh sim, que isto no meu tempo..." e agora é que vamos mesmo ter um relato em primeira voz do antigamente, qual RTP Memória, deviam era entrevistar idosos nas paragens, viravam nª1 de audiências. E aí é que vem a contribuição geral, muito ao estilo saudosista, da época em que viveram, agora não estão vivos ou assim não se sentem, com toda esta electrónica, internet, telemóveis, já ninguem racha lenha, literalmente, pois estão agora calados e perdidos nas suas recordações.
Tempo só há para um ou dois suspiros, lá vem o autocarro, "É a vida", "Até qualquer dia", "Vizinha, cumprimentos á familia", etc e tal, são 10 a entrar para o autocarro, mas entre os que entram e os que ficam, com as despedidas, sacos de compras, miudos chorões a serem arrastados, idosos de bengalas ou muletas que a idade chega a todos e a todos se deseja que chegue quando cantamos Parabêns a mais um ano, mais parecem não 10 mas uns 30.
E é por isso que o autocarro vem atrasado. lololol
Isarma
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