Yeah, I don't remember everything anymore. Something about lying about a car accident and then, like, women's underwear (?) and then biting the hand that feeds.
Waking up to a painting made from my own blood after dreaming about it was a very validating/terrifying experience. Suddenly I knew why I was struggling with reality, why my dreams were so vivid, and why I always woke up exhausted.
Sometimes, you gotta learn you're mentally ill to know you're not crazy.
The point of straw man arguments is to then knock the straw man down. You're showing how strong you are against something that isn't real and only scares people who can't tell the difference between a human and an analogue of a human.
It sounds like he was decidedly pro-crow. And then he ate crow.
As an ex service employee who had tips split and didn't know about tip credit yet, I know that the options are to either get paid as a person, or treated as a person. The number of people who told me that they didn't "do tips" but were willing to give me a high five as a substitute was as understandable as it was upsetting.
Just an fyi, $2.13 isn't all people get paid in food service industries. It's part of something called "tip credit." The national or state minimum wage remains the absolute minimum. What this means is that your tips supplement the restaurant's duties to pay you minimum wage.
If you make at least minimum wage at the end of your pay period, factoring in tips, then the restaurant doesn't have to pay you more. If you make less with your tips, the restaurant is financially responsible to make you whole.
This is one of the reasons that tip-pooling should be illegal as well.
Whatever the possibly good, but probably bad, intentions there are to this decision, it's still courting disaster.
Let's say your neighbor beats half of their kids and all of their kids' friends. And this neighbor is not shy about it; in fact, they publicly brag about this. And let's say that they tell you that your kids should come over to play some video games, but that you need to introduce your kids to them first, so that they don't accidentally beat your kids.
You know what you do in that situation? You don't let your kids visit the fucking child-abuse house!
Don't let your government share your data with us. We're definitely going to abuse your data, and we're still gonna arrest you when you visit. We're holding a burning fuse in our closed fist—don't get closer to see if we're gonna blow our hand off. Run away as fast as you can before you get our mess on yourself.
Yeah, I don't remember everything anymore. Something about lying about a car accident and then, like, women's underwear (?) and then biting the hand that feeds.