I'd walk through a hurricane to get to my paycheck.

Or at least a tropical depression. But that probably won't hit me until the walk home tomorrow.

Of course if you worked at my store you might think twice about braving such a storm as your paycheck would be Nelson de la Rosa tiny.

Other than low pay another bonus for working at my store is that they would only pay you for 19.5 hours rather than the full 35 plus hours that you actually worked. That's because my time clock doesn't record you as punched "in" if you are more than 7 minutes early or late. I am late everyday. That means I basically work for free.

"Um..there seems to be a problem with my check..."

"Hey, are you doing the bread promotion?" This is not the answer you are looking for when 46 dollars of you hard earned money has suddenly gone missing.

"But I can assure you that someone is looking into it."

Very comforting. This coming from an assistant manger who's training video I watched told me that if I was asked to work off the clock I should say "no." Really? You need to tell your employees that they are actually supposed to get paid. I still have no idea how they got the shot in the training video of an entire store breaking out in song and dance about how great working for $6.55 is.

The industry I work in is rife with this kind of exploitation. It commonly employs child labour (under 16), refuses to pay overtime. Blah... Blah.. Blah.....

I know what you are going to say, 'get another job'. Maybe like a pharmacist. I could still chat it up with all the 16 year old cashiers (who totally looked 18) and I would still find the time to laugh it up and 'fake meringue dance' every time they see a baker walk past with his "hotbox."

But I live in Palmetto. There are only two other places hiring within a five mile area. Circle K and 7-11. While both are "always hiring," in fact just the other day a guy walked into a Circle K without enough money for a big gulp, and he got hired for 24 minutes to work it off. Meanwhile, I can't even get an interview.

**Update**

The birds are no longer bothering me, they have taken up root somewhere in the back storage of the store. Showing themselves only occasionally by dive bombing for food on my daily trash runs.

You might not think that this would still be a bother, but I throw away more food in a day than the guys in the local homeless shelter could possibly eat. Not that they will get any of that food anymore, because the director of the homeless shelter somehow pissed of my bakery manger 'M&M.'

Now I guess the only complaint I have is when I am chattin' it up with said 16 year old is that I keep getting interrupted by Weird Leprosy Guy. I don't wanna sound like a jerk, because the guy is in a wheelchair, but he had amazing 'life like" leprosy soars all over his body. And because this is Palmetto he did not feel the need to put on a shirt just because he was making a trip up to the store.

What does Weird Leprosy Guy want? Well, it isn't easy to figure it out initially. He mumbles. It requires you to get really close to him. Close enough to 'catch something' if you get my drift.

"Beer!"

He finally exclaims to my young workmate. Cleaverly depositing enough saliva and germs to kill all of Tom Cruises enemies in seconds. What else could he have wanted?

Welcome to PalmGhetto.

All you want is to get to Rally's to
get a few of those 69 cent cheese burgers in you.

Then you could woolf 'em down before your break is over. Hopefully without an 'incident' breaking out. Not likely.

Welcome to PalmGhetto.

First, you must realize that you if you want the '69 cent' cheeseburgers advertised on the Rally's Sign, you must ask for the '69 cent version' of the cheeseburgers.

Or you do not get the '69 cent' cheeseburgers. You get the 99 cent cheeseburgers. This same philosophy applies to getting the 69 cent shake or the '69 cent' hot dog.

"You want the 69 cent version of the cheeseburgers?" Inquires the ubiquitous Mexican fast food employee. All employees are Mexican at fast food restaurants in PalmGhetto, in compliance with city ordinances.

"Um...ya...I guess." By now you will have regretted your decision to get the 69 cent burger. You will wonder what the non-69 cent version of the "same as far as anyone can tell" cheeseburger is.

"I suppose they don't funnel any of their biological juices into the buns." You think to yourself.

Conveniently located accross from the puerile spitting cashier at the second of Rally's/Checkers famous "walk up windows" is one of the native species of PalmGhetto's White Trash. Teen boy/girl couple.

Teen boy/girl couple are joined together in a sort of conspicuously pre-coitus poise. Hands run from buttocks to back. Legs are intertwined. Tongues dart.

You are able to admire the view of her slender legs and backside because girl distracts boy from his otherwise vigilant eye-patrol of all things "his" by the carefully constructed force of her hands. Hands which pull and tugg at his head creating a managed choreography where once was there was once only youthful incompetence.

You take your time enjoying their display as it appears the show is for you and because the workers at Rally's "We call it Checkers in Florida" are both slow in service and incompetent in filling orders.

That is until some nimrod drives by and shouts "FAAAAAAG!"

This gets the attention of the pimpled yet so obviously hetero boy. He breaks the lustful embrace of his soon-to-be 'Baby's-Mama' and in an evolutionary ironic instant is firmly ensconced in the stereotypical stance of Fight-or-flight.

You then see his his hands go searching for something in his back pocket. And within the instant of the item's appearance you gleam forth its identity. A knife. The young man has drawn forth a knife.

Meanwhile; the hoodlum who was screaming epithets while driving his Ford truck, has dashed away-merrily offering up both his middle fingers in a ritual farewell salute.

You; however, are going nowhere. You cannot get away. You can just stand there hypnotized by the glimpse of metal darting back and forth around the young teen in a primitive pantomime of West Side Story.

You see, you still have an order to receive. It is ony then with cheeseburger in hand that you can attempt your getaway.

And it is only during your getaway that you are able to discern that the boy has not chosen to wield a switchblade, nor even the pedestrian pick of pilferers everywhere the common pocket knife.

But instead he has ineptly chosen to defend his honor with his mother's steak knife. That's right, when not cutting Macaroni and Cheese or slicing through Salisbury Steak the humble steak knife is the trusty sidekick to any Real ASS Kicking which might go down in the PalmGhetto.

Baker's Box. Easy answers to tuff Questions. Otherwise known as Recapitulation to Ontogeny.

Q. Why are there so many flies in your store?

A. First, I am pretty sure that Florida does not have a Health Department. Since I don't have to answer to them, I am not sure why I have to answer to you about it.

Second, we have no blowers in the entrance to our store.

Third, we have no insecticide in the garbage. That would require a telephone call and a repair bill. Thanks to Walmart we can no longer afford either.

Anyways you get what you deserve, I know you Rednecks can see all the birds and stuff. You just figure we are cleaner than your trailer anyways so... wtf might as well ask for a cookie.

Q. Why do you look so pissed when my kids ask for a free cookie.

A. Ok, first it's a free cookie. You have no rights to that cookie. So all you 14 year old punks need to stop with the "you don't have any chocolate chip, I hate brownie cookies?" You get the cookie you get.

You're 14, you can't get that excited by a cookie at your age anymore. I know, I tried using them. Michael Jackson tried it. Why do you think he put an Amusement park in his front yard?

Sure, it would have worked on that Jon Benet Ramsey Kid, but she's like 6 and I gotta have some standards.

Second, I realize the cookie will be the first solid food your kid has had all day, I just request that you wipe his little maggots nose before he tries to pull on my apron or make some skin to skin contact with me, because no one has taught him about the uses of tissue paper.

Q. What is the tissue for next to the sample box?

A. I am not sure, no one ever uses it it. No one does. And most of you fuckers don't wash your hands either. So please, try a little something from the samples box.

Got any more questions for the Baker's Box. Just e-mail me and I will make you famous.

I work in a zoo.

You can't do much to surprise me these days. If I am not being constantly swarmed by flies or attacked by by giant ants called termites or getting drenched soaking wet, I couldn't call it a work day.

So I push through the back door entrance to the bakery to find birds. There are birds in the bakery.

"Is this a fucking zoo?"

Seriously, I do not like birds. I have mentioned somewhere that birds like to attack me. I was attacked by a flock of seagulls, then my girlfriend dumps me on the same day I get fired.

My appreciation for Darwin knows no bounds, but I have no intention of share working space with finches, or whatever the fuck they were.

"I don't think you should put a bread crumb trail down and lead it to the freezer in hopes of killing those cute little birds."

I don't see why not. That's how I kill the flies.

Britney Spears Wasted.

I promised all of you who read my boring articles, that you could get this.

If you have not seen Britney stoned or heard how Mr. Spears attempts to explain to her using common sense, then you have missed out on one of the most important topics of discussion of the 21st century.

Thing is, I have this exact conversation with every woman I have ever dated.

Smart chicks won't date me. Only I am having the conversation with fat Britney, so I don't have half the patience that Kevin shows.

I guess the millions don't hurt either.

The Mismeasure of Poverty

"I don't want to learn about how the official poverty statistics."

If you read this post then I will post the Youtube video where Britney Spears forces us to see that Kevin Federline is like 29 times smarter than we ever gave him credit for being.

The Mismeasure of Poverty:

"Just months after its debut in May 1965 the War on Poverty's new Office of Economic Opportunity designated the measure as its unofficial working definition of poverty.

By August 1969, the Bureau of the Budget had stipulated that the poverty thresholds used in calculating American poverty rates would constitute the federal government's official statistical definition for poverty. It has remained so ever since."

The author of this report gives a nice overview of the historical circumstances that surrounded the creation of the OPR. The author then goes on to treat the purpose of measuring an absolute level of poverty as the holy grail of poverty stats.

Did you know that people in 1120 didn't have running water? I guess there aren't any poor people left now, because using a relative measure of poverty is for liberals. And we know wacked they are.

Libertarians might enjoy the report as well...mostly because they are heartless.

No threat from Terror.

Thinking about giving up your privacy to get safe from terrorism? This report from the CATO institute suggest there is no need.

Update***

Nice timing assholes...

UFO releases new album in September.

You heard it here first.

UFO, the world's greatest rock band will be releasing the new album next month! September 26th 2006.

I am in line as we speak.