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Say, Eric. Where do you find all that fodder for your blog posts, anyway?
Fart stories, tea-bagging, and a grown man getting fired for Pokémon Go rants. Want to know where do I find these cases and stories?
Fart stories, tea-bagging, and a grown man getting fired for Pokémon Go rants. Want to know where do I find these cases and stories?
My husband asked me if I wanted to blog for him and I am really not sure why. My days consist of hearing things like, “knock knock”, “who’s there?”, “I eat mop” over and over again, not exactly scintillating fodder for an employment law blog. Continue reading
I’m coming at you from Washington, DC at the Society for Human Resource Management 2016 Annual Conference & Exposition.
Me and 20,000 other HR professionals.
And, I already ruined this post with a sports metaphor. Dammit!
Around this time last year, I invited readers to connect at the 2015 SHRM Annual Conference and Expo in Las Vegas. Notwithstanding my try-too-hard-to-be-whimsically-irreverent approach, I made some great connections.
Now, one year wiser, I’m going to keep it sincere and humble.
Instead, picture this: A well-dressed guy saunters into the Washington Renaissance. Don’t worry, before next week, I’ll wash the stains out of my Metallica hoodie. Ok, Ratt hoodie. Ok, N’ Sync hoodie. Ok, N’ Sync sleeveless hoodie.
He’s cool(ish) and snarky; he’s got an employment law blog and a license to practice law. He’s even got an employment law practice, which some* may say is thriving.
Remember last month when I told you to short crude oil futures and bet the Broncos to win the Super Bowl about how the National Labor Relations Board concluded that an employer could not maintain a workplace rule that banned employees from recording workplace conversations, absent prior company approval. (More on that here).
Well, in the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, before you get any bright ideas about secretly recording your boss, you’d better think twice.
Are you sitting down?
Good. Because, today, I’m sending you to an employee-rights lawyer.
There they are.
Those are my kids, after clearing our driveway with the discount shovels that I purchased from the dollar store. (I was tempted to splurge on the gas-powered snowblowers from the two-dollar store across the street; but, I’m not a monster). So, I did what any proud parent would do. I marketed posed them on a nearby snowmound and forced smiles (under threat of cancelling Disney Jr.) to attract other area homeowners in need of quality labor. Hey, daddy needs a new set of camouflage 22-inch rims.