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souls that your corporation will always prey on mercilessly, but no more shall I call my bank to find that you have withdrawn my last twenty-one dollars and thirty-seven cents without my permission.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

The Things We Must Do

Surely I am not an advocate for doing things you don’t want to do. I believe if you go through life doing things that are not necessarily of your own volition- if they are things other people want you to do, or things you feel obligated to do, you will just end up angry and frustrated and ready to shoot everyone in your path with an AK-47 or a flamethrower- kinda like Michael Douglas in the movie Falling Down.

Anyhoo, I was thinking of things of this nature this morning when I woke up, and I got to realizing that there are really quite a few things that we really MUST do in order to function acceptably in the world and not be thrown in with the crazies.

1. Wearing pants. Or really, any type of clothing that covered your gender parts.

As much as I adore walking through,  and sitting in, my apartment sans clothing, there are times when one simply must don vestments in order to keep from being arrested. Walking out to the mailbox, weddings, work- really, any time there are other humans about. It’s really toilsome to have to ensure clean and fashionable attire, especially when you just want to waltz around in your birthday suit.

2. Refraining from screaming out “I really fucking HATE this job!” while you’re at work.

Especially when you really fucking hate the job.

3. Paying the IRS.

Believe me, I have, perhaps unintentionally, tried to get away with NOT doing this. Sadly, Big Brother is a omniscient, and will TAKE your money out of your paycheck, or your bank account, or your property, if you try to screw him over. Dammit.

4. Compromising.

Let me be clear- one must solely compromise in order to keep friends and/ or relationships alive. If you are quite content growing into an old cat lady or lonely old man, feel free to refuse to compromise on where you should go out to eat, or where the TV is placed, or whether three times a week is enough for sex or not. I’m sure you’ll be happy being an old man who never goes to Olive Garden, sitting at home in front of the TV with a glare from the window jAcKiNG OFFWITHYOURHANDONCEAWEEK!!!!

5. Refraining from flicking people in the forehead when they’re annoying you.

As satisfactory as it sounds to do so, at some point, this may be considered harassment of some kind. I am still appalled to find that annoying people are not considered some kind of harassment yet.

6. Eat with your mouth closed.

Because even if I am not within earshot of you, I GUARANTEE there is someone sitting close by listening to you smack your lips in an ungentlemanly fashion who is inwardly cringing while secretly plotting how best to dispose of your newly-butchered body.

Well, I think I’ve gotten a pretty good start on educating you all on things you must do in order to be a little bit acceptable, however, if you promise to chew with your mouth closed, you can hang out with me sans pants anytime.

 

 

A Letter To The IRS

IRS,

If you have noticed, there is no warm and friendly words in my greeting to you. This is mainly due to the fact that you continuously insist on taking all of my hard-earned moneys. I realize that these are hard times fiscally, but given the fact that I have never made over $20,000 in any given year, is it really necessary for you deduct numerous dollars from my tiny paycheck every two weeks? I would understand if I were the only person in the country, but if you add up even $1 or $2 dollars from every person in America bi-weekly, that’s…. well, that’s alot of dough. I really don’t see why you should need more than that from little old Me.

Not only do you faithfully withdraw funds from my paycheck, but you always expect me to pay in every year when I fill out my taxes. Why am I penalized for not having a child, I ask? I hear of so many white and black trash people with multiple childrens who get to go blow $3 or $4 or $5 Thousand dollars every year because they have failed to be responsible and use protection and are clearly much too fertile. I believe that you should think about making a new policy rewarding peoples who DON’T take advantage of your niceties.

I would, however, like to thank you for allowing me to receive $62 on this years tax returns. I am immensely thrilled that I shall be able to buy a tank of gas, a coffee from Caribou, and a stick of gum. Thank you, IRS. Thank you from the bottom of my destitute heart.

I would like to bring to your attention the habit you have of sending unnecessary letters. It is quite obnoxious of you to repeatedly send me letters quoting  the dollar amount I owe you combined with your late fees. By the way, are those fees completely necessary? As if you haven’t raped my wallet enough, you also insist that I bend over to pick up loose change on the ground while you drill me in the ass mercilessly. All I have to say is- Shame on your greedy selves, IRS.

To sum it all up, I would like to point out that I firmly believe that because of your repulsive behaviors in this life, in your next life, you are sure to come back as the mashed pepperoni I stepped on last night that is now completely imbedded in the treads of my non-slip work shoes. So poo on you, you disgusting bastards.

No Regards,

Sparklebumps