(What's a 411 edition without a little Mary J?)
<insert a low, almost rumbling, soulful humming, southern baptist church style here>
Good people of the ROCO congregation:
We have come here today to celebrate the day that is ROCO Friday. A day that is looked upon as the best day of the week. A day that knows no black or white. A day that is equal opportunity for everyone! Let the congregation say ROCO!
We have traversed the trials and tribulations of another week and are able to hold our heads up high! (Until we go drinking tomorrow night and hang our heads down low, most likely praying to the porcelain god.) We have held our ground against the evil known as Corporate America for yet another five days. Let the congregation say ROCO!
We know, in our hearts and souls, that executives don't know more than us. We know, in those same hearts and souls, that businesses would collapse without us. We know, that no matter how much time we spend surfing the net or posting on Vox, that we still can't leave early in case someone needs us. We know, that when the clock strikes 5 (or 4:30 in my case), the weekend has BEGUN! Let the congregation say ROCO!
<CAN I GET A WITNESS?!?!?!>
Let the congregation rejoice in the concept of a tightly coiled resignation letter that has more personality that your boss. (Griffin, Brian. 2006)
<humming is reaching a crescendo>
Now, let the congregation go forth and have the most ROCO Friday ever! Spread your ROCO love and slap someone with it! Let the congregation say:
<fried chicken and greens in the downstairs kitchen>