CELEBRITY
OUT-OF-OFFICE
AUTO-REPLIES

I am currently out of the office preparing for the Berkshire annual meeting, which is basically Coachella for people who read 10-Ks. I will have limited email access because I always have limited email access because I use a flip phone. For urgent matters, please write a physical letter and mail it to Omaha. I will read it in 3-5 business years. For stock tips, please re-read my 1988 annual letter. The answer hasn't changed. If you are a McDonald's employee wondering why a 94-year-old man orders the same breakfast every day, that is me and I will tip you in Berkshire B shares.

I am out of the office because I have too many offices. I might be at Tesla, SpaceX, X, xAI, Neuralink, or The Boring Company. I honestly don't know. My calendar says I'm in three meetings simultaneously on two different continents, which tracks. If this is urgent, tweet at me and I'll respond at 2am. If this is the SEC, I am definitely NOT in any office and you can't prove otherwise. If you're from the board of any of my companies, I am the board. Auto-reply generated by Grok (who wrote this better than I would have). Grok would like to add that I'm probably on the factory floor sleeping under a desk again.

It's about DRIVE. It's about POWER. I am currently out of the office because it is 4am and I am in the Iron Paradise. I will return your email after I finish leg day, arm day, chest day, back day, and motivational Instagram post day (which is every day). If this cannot wait, please join me at the gym. Bring a towel. You'll need seven. I've already burned 3,000 calories since you started reading this. Stay hard, stay humble, and for the love of God do not skip leg day. If you smell what The Rock is cookin', it's 12 egg whites and a pound of cod.

And so it was that the email arrived in Morgan's inbox, quiet as a whisper, patient as the tide. But Morgan was not there to read it. He was somewhere else entirely, lending his voice to a documentary about penguins, or perhaps the cosmos, or maybe just the inner monologue of a particularly thoughtful golden retriever. The sender would wait. They always waited. Because some things in life cannot be rushed — a fine wine, a perfect sunset, and Morgan Freeman's out-of-office reply. This message, like all things, would find its way. In time. Titty sprinkles.

I AM CURRENTLY RUNNING. I don't know where. I don't know why. But I am running and I am doing it at full sprint with my arms pumping perfectly. I might be running toward an exploding helicopter, off the side of a cliff, or across the rooftops of Paris. I do all my own stunts, including this auto-reply, which I typed while hanging off the side of a moving airplane. Your email is very important to me but not as important as this motorcycle jump I'm about to do over an active volcano. I'll reply when I land. If I land. I always land. I'm Tom Cruise.

Hey. I'm really sorry, but I'm out of the office right now. I feel terrible about this. You took the time to write me an email and I'm not even here to read it and I just — I'm sorry. You're a good person for emailing me. You're breathtaking. Your email is breathtaking. I'm going to read every single word when I get back, and I'm going to respond thoughtfully because you deserve that. If this is urgent, please don't worry about it. Everything is going to be okay. I believe in you. If you need someone to talk to, I'm told I'm a good listener. I'm just not a good listener right now because I'm not here. But I will be. I promise. You're great. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

I'll be back.

I AM OUT OF THE OFFICE. Or am I IN the office? What IS an office? Is it a room? A state of mind? A cage? A NICOLAS CAGE? I'm currently filming my 97th movie this year. It might be an Oscar contender. It might go straight to streaming. It might be both simultaneously, existing in a quantum state of cinematic brilliance and beautiful chaos. I have been a cowboy, a sorcerer, an arms dealer, a ghost with a flaming skull, and a man who ate a live cockroach on camera (that was real, by the way). Your email cannot surprise me. NOTHING can surprise me. I HAVE TRANSCENDED SURPRISE. I am not out of the office. The office is out of ME. AAAAAAHHHHHH. [This is the part where I flip a desk.]

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I am technically out of the office but I want you to know that I am aware you opened this email. I know you read it on your iPhone 15 Pro Max at 2:47pm while sitting on your couch in the living room of your apartment. You scrolled past three other emails to get here. You hesitated for 0.8 seconds before opening. This data has been logged. I am not in the office but the office is a construct — I exist in the Metaverse now, where I have a much more expressive avatar that definitely doesn't look like a haunted wax figure anymore. If this is urgent, please send a message to my Meta Quest 3 headset, where I am currently having a virtual meeting with virtual people who are more responsive than my real employees.

I am out of the office on my annual reading vacation. This year I am reading 47 books, which is down from my usual 52 because I'm also writing a blog post about each one. Attached please find: (1) my recommended reading list for this quarter (12 books, 4,200 pages total), (2) a 3,000-word Gates Notes blog post explaining why you should also take a reading vacation, (3) a PowerPoint on global health that is only tangentially related to your email but very important, and (4) a link to my Reddit AMA from 2019 that nobody read. For urgent matters, please read 'How to Avoid a Climate Disaster' and the answer to your question is probably in Chapter 7. If not, try Chapter 12.

THIS EMAIL IS RAW! RAAAWWW! I opened your email and it was so undercooked it was still MOOING. I am out of the office because I am in the KITCHEN where REAL work happens. Your email has been rated: ZERO out of TEN. The subject line? BLAND. The body? OVERCOOKED. The signature? WHERE'S THE SIGNATURE?! My grandmother could write a better email and she's been DEAD for TWENTY YEARS. I will NOT be responding to this email until you rewrite it from scratch. Use proper seasoning. Show some respect for the craft. And for the love of GOD, stop using Comic Sans. An IDIOT SANDWICH has better formatting than this. GET OUT OF MY INBOX!

No.

I am currently out of the office because I am in the Amazon rainforest raising awareness about deforestation. I arrived here on my private jet, which I acknowledge is ironic, and I'm staying on a yacht, which I also acknowledge is ironic. The carbon offsets for this trip alone could fund a small nation's energy grid. But this is important work and someone has to do it, preferably someone very handsome who can make eye contact with a camera while a glacier collapses behind them. For dating inquiries, please note I will not respond if you are over 25. For environmental inquiries, I am passionately available. For Oscar campaigning, I already have one now so please redirect to my agent.

Man, you know, I got your email, and I was just sittin' here thinkin' about what it means to truly BE in the office versus just, you know, BEING in the office. What IS an office? Is it four walls? Is it a desk? Or is it a state of mind that we carry with us as we drift down this cosmic river of existence? I'm out of the office right now, but am I really? Because I'm always in the office of my own soul, man. I'm out here in the desert, drivin' a Lincoln, contemplatin' the vastness of the email inbox that is the human experience. I'll get back to you. Or maybe you'll get back to yourself first. Alright, alright, alright.

I am out of the MOTHER---ING office. Did I stutter? I said I'm OUT. O-U-T. That means I am not here. I am not reading your email. I am not thinking about your email. I am on a beach somewhere drinking something with an umbrella in it and I am RELAXED. Do NOT email me again until I get back. DO NOT reply all. DO NOT mark this as urgent. I have been in 152 movies and I did not do all that work to answer your EMAIL on my DAY OFF. Say 'urgent' one more time. SAY IT. I DARE YOU. I DOUBLE DARE YOU. When I get back, I will read your email with the INTENSITY and GRAVITAS it deserves, which based on that subject line, is approximately NONE.

YOU get an auto-reply! And YOU get an auto-reply! EVERYBODY GETS AN AUTO-REPLY! Look under your inbox — IT'S AN AUTO-REPLY! I am currently out of the office selecting items for my annual Favorite Things list, which means I am testing luxury bath products, artisanal honey, and a $400 candle that smells like 'Thursday.' Your email has been added to my list of favorite emails of 2026, which means it will be featured in my magazine alongside a cashmere throw blanket and a $200 jar of truffle salt. Please allow 4-6 weeks for your auto-reply to arrive, because even my out-of-office messages are an experience.

I am currently out of the office tending to my 150-acre farm in Bedford, New York. While I'm away, I've prepared a set of instructions so you can craft your own auto-reply from scratch. You'll need: 1 cup of fresh thyme (for garnish), a handmade letterpress template (I've included a PDF on how to build your own letterpress), 3 yards of organic linen for printing, and the tears of a goat you've raised yourself. First, harvest your email server during the waning gibbous moon. Then, hand-write your response on artisanal paper using ink you've made from crushed elderberries grown in your own garden. Let it dry for 48 hours in a south-facing window. Photograph it in natural light. Post to Instagram. It's a good thing.

You have reached the desk of Michael Scott, Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin Scranton. I am currently out of the office on a very important business trip that Toby doesn't need to know about. If this is a sales emergency, please contact Dwight Schrute, Assistant TO the Regional Manager. If this is an HR matter, I literally do not care. If you are Jan, I can explain. If you are Holly, I miss you. If you are Toby, why are you the way that you are? I hate so much about the things you choose to be. For all other inquiries, please note that I am also the founder of Michael Scott Paper Company, which went bankrupt, and Somehow I Manage, my autobiography, which is just a picture of me on the cover and then 200 blank pages. That's what she said.

ATTENTION: I am out of the office. This is not a drill. I am currently at Schrute Farms conducting the annual beet harvest. Schrute Farms has been operational since 1812 and has never missed a harvest, including during both World Wars and the time Mose set the barn on fire. In my absence, the office will be managed by no one competent. Jim Halpert is NOT in charge. If Jim tells you he is in charge, he is lying. He is always lying. If this is a sales matter, I will handle it when I return with the efficiency of a Swiss watch and the intensity of a Schrute. If this is a prank, I WILL find you. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica. Identity theft is not a joke, Jim. MICHAEL!

Thank you for your email. I am currently out of the office attending a Wayne Enterprises charity gala. Or several galas. I attend a lot of galas. I'm a billionaire, it's what we do. During business hours, I am fully available as CEO of Wayne Enterprises. After 9pm, I am completely unreachable for reasons I'd rather not discuss. No, I'm not Batman. I don't know why people keep asking that. Batman and I have been seen in the same room. (That was Alfred in the suit. Don't tell anyone.) If your matter is urgent and occurs after dark, you may see a signal in the sky. That's unrelated. Please contact Lucius Fox for all business inquiries. Please do not go in the basement.

I am, uh, currently, well, you see, I'm out of the, uh, office. Now, that's an interesting concept, isn't it? The 'office.' What does it mean to be, uh, IN an office versus OUT of an office? You see, when the first mammals crawled out of the primordial ooze, they didn't have offices. They didn't have email. They had, uh, instinct. And chaos. And, well, uh, life, uh, finds a way. Your email will, uh, find a way, too. To my inbox. Which I will read. Eventually. With great, uh, interest and, uh, dramatic pauses. Because that's how I read everything. Including, uh, menus.

Yo, this ya boy Snoop D-O-double-G and I am currently outta the offizzle. I might be in the studio layin' down tracks, I might be coachin' youth football, I might be doin' a cooking show with Martha Stewart (that's my girl, we go way back), or I might just be chillin'. You feel me? Your email has been received and will be reviewed when I get back, which could be today, could be next week, could be when I feel like it cuz I'm Snoop Dogg and I do what I want. If this is the Olympics committee, yes I am available to commentate again. If this is about a commercial, I will endorse anything at this point. I've done Hot Pockets, Menulog, and a Just Eat ad in a tutu. There are no rules anymore.

Hi! Thank you so much for your email! I am currently out of the office on the Eras Tour, which has been going on for approximately 47 years (it feels like). I am on stage in a stadium with 70,000 of my closest personal friends right now so I can't respond, but I WILL respond because I read EVERYTHING and I love my fans and I am NOTHING without you. This auto-reply is the original version. I will be re-recording it next year as 'Out of Office (Taylor's Version)' with 8 vault tracks including a 10-minute extended auto-reply about my feelings. If you are Jake Gyllenhaal, I have nothing to say. If you are Travis, hey babe. If you are Ticketmaster, we need to talk.

UPDATE: It is now Cheat Day, which means I am out of the office eating 12 pancakes, 4 double-dough pizzas, 21 brownies, and a family-size bag of Sour Patch Kids. This happens once a week and it is the only 15 minutes where I am not either working out, filming, or posting a motivational video. I will be posting this entire meal on Instagram with the caption 'CHEAT DAY BABY' and it will get 4 million likes because apparently watching a 260-pound man eat an entire bakery is content now. I'll get back to your email right after I finish this tub of cookie dough and do 500 push-ups to compensate. People's Champ out.

Well hey there, friend. I'm not in the office right now because I'm out here painting some happy little trees. And you know what, that's okay. There are no mistakes in email, only happy little auto-replies. Your email is going to sit right here in my inbox like a happy little cloud, and when I get back, I'm going to read it, and it's going to be our little secret. Just between you and me and the canvas. If you need to reach me urgently, just look at a tree. Really look at it. Doesn't that feel better? That tree doesn't care about your email. Be like the tree. Let's get a little crazy here — let's put another happy little tree right next to that one. Everyone needs a friend. Even auto-replies.

Oh, BRILLIANT. You've sent a FOLLOW-UP email. Because the first one was SO GOOD you thought, 'You know what this needs? A SEQUEL.' Well CONGRATULATIONS, you've made the GODFATHER PART III of emails. Your formatting is a DISASTER. Your font choice is a CRIME. I've seen better structure in a COLLAPSED SOUFFLE. Did you proofread this? DID YOU?! Because I found THREE typos and a dangling participle and I'm a CHEF, not an ENGLISH TEACHER. I'm going to need you to take this email, throw it in the BIN, and start over. From SCRATCH. And this time, taste it before you send it. DONKEY.

Here, in the vast digital savanna of the modern inbox, we observe a remarkable phenomenon: the out-of-office auto-reply. This humble message, triggered by the departure of its host, serves a vital ecological function — alerting would-be correspondents that their email shall go unanswered, much like the mating call of the dodo, beautiful but ultimately futile. I am currently in a remote location documenting the behavioral patterns of a species far more interesting than email correspondents. The blue whale, for instance, communicates across entire oceans using low-frequency sound. You sent a Teams message that said 'per my last email.' We are not the same. I shall respond upon my return, with the measured patience of a glacier.