The Joys of Network Administration

The network administrator is one of the funniest, most dedicated, generally awesome guys I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet. This morning I got copied on an email he sent to one of my co-workers regarding a rather unfortunate circumstance: a client of his was one of those people who gets a chain letter and forwards it to EVERYONE in their address book. This naturally included my co-worker, and the presence of giant attachments, unwanted witticisms and lots and lots of animated gifs was really starting to cramp the guy’s style.

Network Admin to the rescue! Below, with some redacted names to protect identities (because I try to be polite like that) is the solution.

Hey Todd,

I can block his e-mail address from hitting our server, but unfortunately he wouldn’t be able to send any e-mail to us at all if that happened-/probably/ not a good idea if he’s a client.

You can delete them, but the best thing to do is to ask him to stop sending them in the first place. The easiest way to do that is to make **ME** the bad guy, so the fucking idiot doesn’t get all offended and shit. Try something like this:

/”Good morning Mr. Latent Pedophile,

I can’t put into words how much sheer, unadulterated joy your wonderful e-mails have brought me. You see, before I starting receiving your witty and carefully crafted mass-produced chain e-mails my life was but a meaningless shell. Being on your “send” list has truly been a divine gift from above. Not only has it made me a better man, but flowers smell better, the sky is brighter, and food tastes better.

Best of all, it no longer hurts when I pee.

Alas, there is a problem: You see, the network administrator here is a real “type-A” knuckle-dragger. He’s an angry, angry man-the type of guy who has driven away anyone who has ever tried to love him. He is verbally abusive to his co-workers, and his breath is so bad that the paint around his desk *is actually peeling. *He monitors all of the network traffic to and from our e-mail server. Yesterday he waddled over to my desk, belched, farted in my general direction, and //then started screaming at me about bandwidth issues and security concerns. For this reason I must beseech you to stop sending me these types of messages. He assured me that if I receive any more he was going to dock my pay $10.00 per megabyte-so you’re most recent message for example could cost me $13.20.

I’m not sure how I’m going to cope with not receiving future chain letter messages from you. Alas, I may have to take up clown punching, chicken choking-or some other constructive way to vent my inhuman rage against the man. Thank you for your understanding.

I weep alone,

Todd T.
Resident Badass
“/

Give that a shot dude. Let me know how it works out.
*
**
Chris
*

Oh Chris, it is truly an honor to work with you!

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3 Comments »

  1. Ross R. said,

    May 29, 2008 @ 10:44 am

    I am intrigued by this “clown punching” of which you speak. Is there some sort of organization or club for fellow clown punching enthusiasts? If so I wish to inquire as to membership benefits and dues, if any.

  2. Yr. Humble Commentator said,

    May 29, 2008 @ 12:12 pm

    Clowne-Punching, ye Antecedent to “Punch and Judy”, long hath been a Custom, or Pass-time of the vulgar Mobbe, yet as fuch, unlike ye Pleasures which be frownèd ‘pon amid genteel Companie, like Cocke-fighting, Vivisection, and the classic children’s Game of “torture ye random ftraye Animal”, Clowne-Punching is an Amusement to be enjoyed by all and fundry alike; be it a well-earned Respite for the man of ye Peasantry, or a nobleman’s regular Prerogative, as is Loris-Baiting, amassing ye parkèd Internet Domaignes, Yachtery, or ye wearinge of pinke fhirts, either sans cravate, or (ye Gods keep and preserve us) with Collars unwholesomely popp’d, &ct, &ct.

  3. ECTOPLASMOSIS! » The Good Ol’ Days said,

    June 2, 2008 @ 9:48 am

    [...] meal, could lay into her with his ring hand with zeal of a bare-knuckle prize fighter at a Clown Punching club. Those days are gone, however, and the young people with their absurd, namby-pamby, [...]

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