Suck It, IRS

Dear IRS,

I have afforded you the courtesy of a “dear” in this letter, as I did not in my previous letter. You may (or may not) wonder why you have found me in such a pleasant disposition. I will tell you.

Today, for the first time in almost ten years, I owe you no money.

(Pardon me while I complete a little victory dance. No, I’m not having a seizure, I just grew up Baptist, so I don’t have the rhythm most normal people have. But yes, that was most certainly a completely vulgar hand gesture I was making in your general direction.)

I realize that there will always be poor unfortunate souls that your corporation will always prey on mercilessly, but no more shall I call my bank to find that you have withdrawn my last twenty-one dollars and thirty-seven cents without my permission. I will no longer need to write on my bill calendar your most deplorable automatic withdrawal payment that has been plagueing me like a virus for the last four years. With my now liberated monthly $100, I intend to purchase a ridiculous number of shoes, and books that will be added to my already multitudinous collection.

It has been brought to my attention that you do not care in the least about my opinion, oh wretched IRS, but that will not stop me on the 16th of every month from interrupting whatever it is I’m doing at the time to howl to the heavens most barbarically “SUCK IT, IRS!” while simultaneously re-creating the move made most famous by the wrestling tag team DX of Triple HHH and Shawn Michaels viscously several times in an unladylike manner.

Have a nice day,

Sparklebumps