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 address 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 favorites 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 favorably by the administration.
3. When you borrowed the digital camera to take pictures of your Mothers 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 screw with your systems administrator. Why? Because they know what you do with all that free time!
Wishing you a grand and glorious day.