Archive for E-mail

I’m Telex You, Gestetner Fax Outta Here!

Posted in Human Stupidity with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on August 15, 2008 by Buck Frain

What the prolapsed rectum is with people who persist in using fax machines? I’m sorry but there’s no fucking excuse anymore. NO FUCKING EXCUSE!!! Get out of the cunting stone age, you great-grandmotherfuckers! 

 

I had mistakenly believed the enduring references to fax numbers on letterheads and business cards were just an indication of a laziness in updating stationery. If the last few days are anything to go by, however, I am wrong and there is army of tree-murdering recalcitrants out there desperately hanging on to their fax machines and forcing others to use them in the hope they’ll eventually acquire some kind of officeretro coolness. It’s pitifully fucked. 

 

I applied for two jobs recently where the recruitment monkeys asked if I could fax my resume in. Could I? I don’t know, could you go fuck yourself in the arse with a big rubber prick? To the first I replied: 

No, I’ll have to email you, I don’t have a fax machine. 

 

I was perplexed. People still use these things? WHY? Why would you use a fucking fax machine? They suck! How’s carrier pidgeon, will that do? I just don’t get it. The second time it happened I was got fucked off, however, I tried to remain cool and nonchalantly replied: 

No, I’ll have to e-mail you. My fax machine’s been less than reliable since I chopped into pieces with an axe. 

 

There was a stunned silence as the HR guy tried to process this information until, finally, he gave a weak: 

Ahm…I’m sorry? 

 

I don’t have a fax, dude, I’ve got a computer…and…I was messing with you. 

 

Nothing. Why is it that the people who work in human resources are the people with the least grip on humanity? Maybe it’s the same crushing irony of careers advisors – what a shit job, why would anyone listen to them ever? 

 

I applied for yet another job, a real job I had thought. I was reasonably interested in the business, the position looked promising…until I received a call from them requesting my fax number so they could send me some information to look over before the interview. 

How about I give you my email address? 

 

The vacant and, I assume, blonde entity on the other end of the phone gave a petulant sigh and tried to ply me for the path of least resistance:

Your fax number would be a lot quicker…for us, you know. 

 

I somehow doubt that – I don’t have a fax. Could you TELEX me?

 

Oh, I don’t know…I don’t think we have that…well, is there a fax at your post office? Or…well, I suppose I could send it by regular mail but there’s no guarantee you’d have much time with it before the interview… 

 

The job had lost all its lustre. It was dead to me now.

My Post Office? What the fuck? Are you calling me from the past? What the shat-in-fridge is wrong with you? E-mail, you stinking fucker! Have you not heard of it? It’s great: it doesn’t kill trees, it doesn’t degrade the quality of documents, it doesn’t cost you money and it has fuck all of a carbon footprint, BINT! You know what? Fuck you! FUCK YOU!!! Take the documents, the interview, the job and your whole company, fax it all to yourself, roll it up and shove it up your ARSE!!! I hate you! I fucking hate your short-sighted, environmentally cancerous, shit-sucking, lazy fuckedness! I hope to find you trapped under a vending machine early one Tuesday morning after a long weekend, a breath away from death so your last memory can be me hanging a big steaming shit into your gasping mouth!!!

 Hmm…that’d have to confuse the Jesus out of the forensic team, wouldn’t it? 

 

I digress. Unfortunately, none of that tirade actually came out of my mouth. I did manage to impart that if the facility of e-mail was too complicated for her company then I probably wasn’t too interested in working there, gave her my e-mail address and hung up. Yep, Won’t be hearing from those bastards. You wonder why I’m trapped in my dead-end limbo existence? Too bad. Fuck it!

 

Faxes have no place in our world except perhaps in a Museum For Boring Shit That Always Sucked. They’re a bad piece of equipment – they ruin everything, they jam like bastards, they use that stupid replica toilet paper and they have been thoroughly superceded in the most remote parts of the planet for well over a decade. Anyone who ever uses one now is obviously a complete CUNT and should be beaten to death with their stupid, cunty, shit-ridden fax machine for being an irredeemably FUCKED human being. GET FUCKED!!!