My name is Liz. I need direction. I overuse commas, my house is a mess, my hair needs a trim and I have no marketable skills: It's fun here, you'll see!

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May 29th, 2009

Shame: The Harshest Punishment

Driving around town today, I saw a group of people standing out front of their place of business, holding up one of those giant labor dispute banners. You know the kind, the ones that say “SHAME ON PHIL’S PANCAKE HAUS” or whatever. Unionizing is great and all, but what is the point of paying your dues and going through all the trouble of ordering a huge banner if the harshest punishment you want to exact on your opressors is “shame?”

Phil could be forcing his workers to work 14-hour shifts without providing benefits or overtime while making them lick the toilet seats and put their hands on the hot pancake griddles. Their revenge? Quietly notifying the public that Phil’s Pancake Haus ought to be ashamed of itself. LAME. Call me extreme, but I’d rather spend MY signage budget on a banner that says “PHIL IS A BUTT FACE.”

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