It is unfortunate that September has to come to an end. Did you realise that September spells the longest compared to other months in the year? I love September. Partly because my birthday falls within this region *grin*, partly because it's one of my free-ier months at work AND best of all, a biatch from my workplace is leaving. In fact, she has left while I'm writing this.
Look at this absolute crappy e-mail (edited to protect the innocent) she wrote to a colleague of mine, who was instructed to send it to the whole organisation after she has left the office (to which I shall interpret it with pure glee):
Today is my last day in the crappy organisation so I just wanted to say goodbye (say? This is not saying, biatch. This is writing. Duh!). I have snuck out quietly since I hate goodbyes (no, you don't hate goodbyes, wrinkly cow. That's because no one gives a shit about you) and am not exactly going very far - only to work at another crappy organisation so I'm sure I'll see loads of you again soon (gee! The other organisation must have been sympathetic enough to offer you a temporary placement with them)!
I have now completed 17 years in this crappy organisation so it's about time for a change (of course it's not change, arse. With so many complaints about your fucked-up management, this crappy organisation just couldn't wait to get rid of you with an early retirement package, man!). Roy and I have now heard that we'll definitely get our PR visa for migration to Australia so will be heading there after Malaysia, probably next year, and until then I'll be working in Defence Section in the other crappy organisation (OMFG! Temping while awaiting approval where both she and her husband can irritate and annoy the Aussies later. Meanwhile, she sits next to Roy like a retarded cow while making Roy look like a poof).
It's a nice uncomplicated job, I actually started last week whilst I was on leave (of course it's uncomplicated. Who would want to give a retarded cow some complicating job? Hello! The keyword here is 'retarded', get it? Doofus). I spent the first week working out how to get through all the many security doors and alarms, then trying to compile a guest list and work out whether an Admiral is a higher rank than a Rear Admiral and if they are a Dato as well where that goes in the invitation (see, told you a beefhead like her can't understand her work. Gawd, I think she's better off milking her udders instead).
One of my tasks is arranging diplomatic clearance for military aircraft flying over Malaysia, which is quite frightening since I think if I do it wrong they may get shot down (sigh! Need I say more? She even wrote this like a total bimbo! Of course an extremely brainless old hag like her can't understand her job which needed the brain). Next week I will be learning how to use that funny military alphabet where you say 'echo tango' for E T when you phone military bases instead of 'elephant teabag' (Fool! That's Foxtrot Oscar Oscar Lima! It's bloody morse code. Phonetic alphabets, to be precise. Duh! Funny military alphabet indeed. She's just soooo damn Sierra Tango Uniform Papa India Delta. Mayday! Mayday!).
I am not completely cutting links with this crappy organisation, and will be doing some consultancy for the region, and am starting with some work in Bangkok in a couple of weeks so I will occasionally pass through the office here searching for brochures etc (see what she's trying to do? Nobody is making her look important, so she's taking extra efforts to do that by irritating and annoying more people in the next few weeks).
Anyway for now goodbye and good luck to everyone (for now, she'll give us some time to take a breather before we see her wrinkly old haggy udders again. Sigh).
Imbecile Biatch (who drinks expired milk)