I’ve been in the workforce long enough to have seen some seriously wacky emails drop into my inbox.  Whether they are in the name of actual work or a 110% waste of company time doesn’t really matter, they all end in me squinting at the screen while scratching my head, pondering the impetus for such retardedism*.

*This made-up word attempts to capture the magnificently vast retardeness of this genre of email…but falls miserably short.

There are thousands of variations of emails that make you go hmmm, but here are a few classics.

• The, “Whoops, forgot to let you know that the attachment is totally NSFW.”
• The 57-part lunchtime email chain discussing the merits of Taco Bell vs. the dumpster behind the building.
• The, “should have let that one sit in the ‘Drafts’ folder for a day before sending.”
• The, I never technicly past second grade so I half no idea how to use puncktuation check my speling or format text into anything other than a comically unending run-on sentence that fails to exact anything resembling point and leads readers to question my status as a citizen of planet earth.
• The updated email that actually has the attachment, that follows the previous email that was missing the attachment, following the email that had the wrong date for the meeting so it was recalled, after the message warning you to block out the next 2-3 weeks from 5 am – 9 pm for a possible team meeting to discuss the company letterhead, that follows the first email where the sender accidentally hit send halfway through.  And for each of these messages you are required to “send a receipt” because for some reason, God only knows, the sender has “request a receipt” as his default setting.
• The, “Increase the size of your luv canon” email forwarded from the old man in HR who assumes the internet is what’s sewn into men’s shorts and hopes if he blasts his junk mail company-wide he’ll get a young whipper-snapper to come fix his magic typing box.
• The, “thanks for Cc’ing me on every email EVER because I offered my advice on one exceedingly minor detail of your project and now I’m your personal Jesus who you think should manage all your projects because you lack the confidence to do your own job”

Given that intro and your own collection of perplexing Outlook incidents I’m hoping you’ll agree with me that an email I recently received from a department head is the most ridiculous piece of “official correspondence” I will ever read.

The following arrived in my inbox on January 27, 2011 and is transcribed verbatim:

Subject:  Hitting the Target

Hi Guys,

We’re having urinal issues yet again.  Upper management requests that we continue to work on aiming and targeting.

Thanks,
K

WHAT?!   THE?!?   WHAT?!?!

I read it and nearly “logged on” to my “internet.”  I held it together though, figuring that would have been a major blow to the cause, warranting further emails.

Out came the internal dialogue in full force, complete with absurd rhetorical questions…
Really?  Did I just read that?  Really??
Wow.
Wait, what?  Was he serious?! Maybe I misread something…
Nope.
Wow.
(giggle)
Dude, who doesn’t even hit the urinal?!  That guy would NEVER be invited to my house.
Are we sure it’s not the toilet’s fault?

I have since saved a copy of the email on my work computer, my laptop and now I’m glad to post it onto the internet for posterity.

I would be delighted to hear if anyone out there has a competing entry.  Pleeeeease, tell me someone else has a competing entry!  Something along the lines of,

Subject:  Crop Dusting

Team –

Recently there have been increased complaints in our department that certain individuals are “airing their grievances” while trespassing in other workers’ cubicles.  Not only is this rude, but it also constitutes a health hazard when the perpetrator removes his/her pants to “float an air biscuit,” and accidentally sharts.

This practice will no longer be tolerated.  Per the new company policy, “Hearts not Sharts,” if caught in the act, offenders will be spanked publicly to “learn them good” and to boost company morale.

Kind Regards,
Hous Bin Pharteen

Now that would be worth forwarding to the old man in HR.