Dear Applicant, My God What Have We Done?
We regret to inform you we won't be able to offer you a position at this time. We'll always wonder what could have been.
We regret to inform you we won't be able to offer you a position at this time. We'll always wonder what could have been.
If you care deeply about results and have at least four buddies named Tyler, we can’t wait to meet you.
I end every email with “cheers.” My keys are on a carabiner attached to my belt. I call Easter “Zombie Jesus day.”
Please do not straddle the beast unless you have experience wielding crotch rockets of NASA caliber.
Although, if I’m honest, Amanda has horrible email etiquette. One time she shared her screen during a meeting and I saw 12,000 unread emails.
Your message may simply be too sophisticated to be understood by lower life forms.
70 ft: Screw it, I’m just going to wave. Social norms be damned! 65 ft: Shit, he’s definitely not looking at me.
- DIY ax throwing in the parking lot - Fish microwaving contest - Egging Janet in HR’s car (for charity)
In five years I hope I can stop dwelling on the time when I was sucked into the thick swamp ooze only to be rescued by a creature of the night.
Trent Dribbly is a gale-force wind of fresh air with his unapologetic attitude about stealing leftover food from coworkers.
Work Anniversaries: See your manager for a token of our appreciation—a homemade coupon for one (1) weak handshake.
Like our CEO wrote in his “Daily Wake-Up” email, all of our cubicles can be temples of productivity.