The Slipknot Retirement Plan

Annual Review time has come around once more in my company. I remember my elation on graduation: at last, no one would ever again bug me about “my performance” and “what I wanted to do with my future.” Oh how wrong I was. In retrospect, the only thing that’s changed since college is that girls in my office are significantly less slutty than ones in my college classes. Also, I have student loan payments. Growing up sucks.

I always expect my Review to go something like this:

I enter the room and am immediately grabbed by two goons in suits.

Me: What the hell is this???
Boss [coming out from behind a desk with a manila folder]: we’ve gotten your review back from HR and they’ve informed me that as compensation this year you’re getting—

[She thumbs through the folder and stops, pointing at the relevant section]

Boss: A caning.
Me: Are you sure that doesn’t say, “canning?” Maybe I’m just supposed to be fired.
Boss: Hmm…I guess it could be a typo. But just to be sure, we better administer the flogging, too.

[The two goons begin tearing off my pants]

Me: Is this even legal???
Boss: Break his thumbs.

I’m never sure what to say at these review things. Just give me my report card and let me get back to being the bitch of the giant, evil corporation I work for. I don’t need to be flattered by having HR pretend to be interested in where I see myself in 5 years. If they had any compassion they’d just deposit my checks at the discount liquor-mart down the street.

Do you want to hear my five-year plan? It’s simple: blow all my money on a crooked midget-wrestling match and then hang myself in a sleazy motel room. It’s a brilliant plan that explains why I don’t bother paying into my 401k. I don’t need a 401k. All I need for retirement is a length of rope from Home Depot or a state without a ten-day waiting period.