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Written by Northe   
Monday, 13 March 2006 00:00

First time? Start here. Read "The Primer" and follow the link at the end. Chronological order makes more sense for the stories.

Hey I didn't say which Monday!  Sorry for taking the week-long hiatus but your derogatory in-mails definitely made me want to come back to posting.  Assholes.

Well, we all know that tax season can be looked at in one of two ways:  "Fuck the government for taking so much of my money" and "fuck the government for taking so much of my money but at least I am getting a few bucks back."  Either of which is an adequate response and both continue to point out how taxed we are.  Punished for being successful, the more successful you are the greater your tax burden and the less reliant on the government you become.  "Hey, good job on owning a piece of property asshat, we'll tax you a few extra grand a year for doing so well in life."  Fuckin idiots.  Let's not get started though, that's another topic, I'll keep on point.

Tax season from the Angry Time perspective is another plane to test my ongoing theory that ignorance really knows no bounds.  Truly it doesn't.  Case in point is as follows.

Female Boss gets her taxes owed in the mail the other day.  Whatever she owes she is not happy about.  Apparently savings isn't on her list of priorities as most of you retarded Americans.  So all of a sudden her taxes owed is a big to-do in the stew of defunct gray matter that at one point in time was her brain.  She starts muttering off about what can be done and how "inconsiderate" the government is for not warning her "earlier."

I mean are you serious here?  You had no clue that in the decades you've been on this planet that the start of the year you should start thinking about taxes?  Obviously she is just letting off some steam as maybe its more than what she bargained for but even I could be giving her too much credit here.  Regardless, Female Boss makes it a point to start calling friends so I can hear her parrot her disappointment of the whole Tax Season thing over and over again.  Fun times for me, lemme tell ya.

The final phone call went off to one of her more intelligent friends that is giving her some tax advice.  The final question that was asked before I got up to puke my lungs from body was:

"So on this piece of paper they sent me there's an e-mail address.  Can I just e-mail them my payment?"

Dead.