A Generic Letter of Recommendation For Anyone

June 22, 2011


"BRAINS or whatever"


(Brooklyn, NY)

Dear (Company, Important Person, Manhunter),

You are going to love (your name here).  Like love love.  When I hired/found/cohabitated with the person I named, I asked him/her straight up, “Are you Adonis/Female Adonis?” And (name) smiled that bewitching/blast furnace smile and I almost died/explodified.  If there was a screen saver for your eyes, it would be that smile dancing in front of twinkle stars.  So get ready for that/this.

Here’s an example of what you can expect from (your nickname, could be Chalk Eyes).  Let’s say you’re in the woods with him or her.  A bear is there.   The bear is undead.  And he’s learned to use rudimentary tools.  He’s holding two t-squares.  Get out of here, you’re saying.  Where would I meet this undead t-square wielding bear?  And I’m saying, Geez, it’s hypothetical.  Except one time it wasn’t and this happened to me and (your name-o).  And I was screaming and promising unborn children to this beast, and Holy Mother Mercury, there steps in Sir/Madam(make a heroic version of your name like Haroldantium or Sallykazam) and just charges right in!  The rest is pretty graphic but picture a wrecking ball covered in broken glass hitting a giant lasagna with fur topping.

See what I’m saying about (insert your moniker)?  This dude/woman dude is going to blow your mind/excuse for a mind.  I don’t even want to let them go.  No! In fact, NOOOOOOOOO!  You can’t make me.  This letter is a declaration of war on your company/time share/time zone!  Stay away from my employee/person I own!  If you get within a township of them, I will barbecue your family/pet dog Sophiebottoms! Do not cross me.  I used to own an undead bear.

Unless you want to buy this person off me.  Then sure.  Money will do it.  But I’ll miss them.  And I may visit it your place of business/pirate grotto.  If you have snacks.  That’s the least you can do for this gem of a human being I’m just giving to you for the price of a used dumptruck.  Don’t judge me! I have a million reasons to own a used dumptruck. The first of which is to fill in the hole (a cute version of your name, like TeddyBeans or Ruth-a-rang) left when they went to your employ/country/dingo farm.  It’s too painful to think of (your name) clasped against any bosom but mine. Here come the man-tears. Hire them or else.



Dr. James Best, Esquire

CEO and Archduke of (A company you worked at or just say Nabisco)



{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

1 Valerie June 22, 2011 at 9:14 am

This makes me want to stop collecting unemployment.


2 Shiloh Donkin June 22, 2011 at 10:31 am

james, this is fan-damn-tastic. well done, well done indeed.


3 Christian J June 23, 2011 at 10:59 am

(insert blase’/witty/nonchalant/semi-insulting comment here)


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