The Tax Man Taketh Away

If the title of this post confuses you, permit me to clarify things: I paid my taxes today and I feel violated. As in that prison that very select kind of prison violation that makes grown men weep and even bigger men call themselves “Mary”.

There’s only one good thing I can say about the experience at my CPA’s office today–I’m glad that what’s left of the two dusty old raisins I call ovaries are internal. Had they been external and within reach of the long arm of the law, Uncle Sam would have surely reached out of the computer and latched on to them, too.

I exited her office in shock. I know I looked as ashen as I felt. She said thanks and goodbye. I mumbled something in response and while I don’t remember driving home.  I came to standing in front of my door.  I opened it and entered without turning on the lights. I sat in the dark. I don’t know for how long. I could do nothing, think nothing and say nothing other than utter a strange speech pattern that would have allowed me to be a co-captain on Nell’s debate team.

I could have said, “chick-chick-chick-a-pea”…and won.

After wallowing in the comfy confines of self-pity, I stood up, flipped on a light and built an altar for and an effigy of Warren Buffet and Mark Zuckerberg, praying for fiscal osmosis.

I grabbed a copy of “Think and Grow Rich”, by Napoleon Hill.

I watched the OWN Network and forced myself to watch Suze Orman, which did me no good. She spells her name wrong and that bothered me.

Then I just gave up.  I know as a patriot, I have to do my civic duty and fork over my slaves wages,  but this year the notion just hit me wrong.   Of course, I’ll do the right thing.  I’ll pay what I owe if for no other reason than to secure the opportunity for  a few more Congressmen to dine at Kinkead’s and peddle influence in style.

But I won’t be happy about it.

So, at 11:59 PM (CST) on the night of deadline day, April 17, if you hear a sizzling, searing sound coming from Southeast Texas, that would be me filling out a very tepid check to the United States Treasury.

If only prison stripes were vertical……

And now, you may opine your ass off...

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