An unfiltered fire hose of flaming condemnation

Tell it to Their Face for Christ’s Sake

A few things first:

1. I cannot possibly answer all of the email I have received in the last 24 hours in any timely fashion. Just know that I appreciate all of the kind words and wishes sent my way, some eloquent, some lovingly crude, some completely insane (I didn’t really need to see that photocopy of your ass, but Jesus fuck, it did cheer me up!). I am truly amazed at the love complete strangers are capable of. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

2. Thank you.

3. I have a hacking cough so disgustingly haggard that I fear I may have a beanie baby stuck in my esophagus. Consequently, I am doped up on cough suppressant. It tastes like rum. I’m going to have some more.

4. I just put a fourth load of laundry into the washing machine. I’m not even halfway through the pile of dirty clothes on my side of the bed.

5. I’ve been taking undetermined amounts of Metamucil for the last three days to help cure an annoying bout of constipation. I’m so bloated that I could easily pass for a woman who is 16 months pregnant.

6. I’m currently nursing a 12 oz Diet Dr. Pepper and bourbon. Currently, from what I can tell, I have 17� fingers. Wait, there’s another one.

Now, about that job thing.

I’ve read most of the comments made on Metafilter about my situation (found here). I intend today’s post to answer several lingering questions about what happened yesterday when I lost my job and about events that led up to the final pink slip. Please pay attention.

The Asian Database Administrator who often served as the subject of ridicule on dooce.com was one of my good friends at the company that fired me. He was fully aware that I was writing stray missives at his expense, and on several occasions he helped me write characterizations of himself. It was a joke shared between friends, and he was a willing participant. He thought it was funny. That was all that mattered to me. If you think it was racist, you have your own problems. Go and read someone else’s blog.

The morning that the anonymous person sent the email to the vice-presidents of my company, I immediately pulled the human resources representative into a conference room and explained to her that I had no ill will toward anyone at my company and that I did not support the political intentions of whoever sent the email. I also explained to her that most of what I had written was grossly exaggerated for comedic effect, and that many of the personalities in my post were combinations of several people I have worked with over the last five years. She suggested that I send an email to everyone included on the original email to explain things. She did not, however, tell me that if I did not send an explanatory email that I would lose my job. Nor did she tell me to remove anything from my website. For the record, there was no formal warning or directive concerning what I needed to do in order to prevent the loss of my job.

Two days later I had a two-hour conversation with my immediate boss about my website. Although it was a difficult discussion, full of tears and embarrassing confessions, we both left the meeting with a renewed sense of dedication to helping each other perform our jobs more successfully. She assured me that there were no hard feelings and that now, now that grudges and dissatisfactions had been addressed, things around the company would inevitably get better. She asked that I have a talk with her boss to let him know that things had been addressed and to explain that my website was a personal endeavor, nothing more. I had that talk with her boss 3 hours later.

By all appearances everything was settled by early last week. I continued working on my projects, exponentially more positive about my potential at this company. My boss and I seemed to have a closer relationship than ever.

Last Thursday after several weeks of trying to deal with the aforementioned intestinal issue, I went to the doctor seeking a professional opinion on my health. I had to undergo several tests, including a day’s worth of x-rays, and consequently missed three days of work. When I returned to work on Tuesday, my boss and the human resources representative pulled me into a conference room and handed me my last paycheck. They explained that the company had a zero-tolerance policy about negativity (?), that my website was influencing the younger, more impressionable members of the company, and that the CEO demanded that I be terminated at once.

I received no severance.

As for those of you who think I was stupid to post things on my website about my job and about co-workers: I refuse to live in fear. I refuse to be censored. I’ve lived my life far too long in fear of disrupting expectations. I made a conscious decision when I conceived dooce.com that I would never bow to the intimidation of others, including employers or pussy-ass cocksmacks who think I should just stop complaining and be a good worker bee already. For those of you who think it wrong to speak up about matters that fundamentally bother you, go and join the fucking Mormon Church. Attend BYU. Take it up the ass and bleed. Whatever you do, don’t read dooce.com, and certainly don’t think for yourself. Scandalous!

Get a goddamn sense of humor, for fucking crying out loud.

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Heather B. Armstrong

Hi. I’m Heather B. Armstrong, and this used to be called mommy blogging. But then they started calling it Influencer Marketing: hashtag ad, hashtag sponsored, hashtag you know you want me to slap your product on my kid and exploit her for millions and millions of dollars. That’s how this shit works. Now? Well… sit back, buckle up, and enjoy the ride.

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