Recently, my husband and I were audited by the IRS. We survived. However, the IRS, in its infinite wisdom, decided that we owed back taxes. (Earlier the IRS had sent us a refund which we hadn't expected. Upon further consideration, it decided it wanted its money back, plus interest--never mind that the refund had been the mistake of the IRS.)
The whole thing so de-pissed me that I was ready to move to Montana and become a survivalist. As long as I was changing my location, I decided I'd change my vehicle and look as well. I would exchange my Buick for a big-ass pickup, with a shotgun attached to the rear window. On the bumper I'd have a sticker with some tough saying like "We ain't payin' no stinkin' taxes." In the bed of the pickup, I'd have a case of beer. (Well, really it would be a case of Propel--flavored water---but the effect would be the same.)
I'd trade my "mom clothes" for a lumberjack plaid shirt, jeans, and lace-up boots. Over my chest, I'd wear a bandolero with bullets at the ready. Maybe I'd tuck a chaw in the back of my mouth to complete the look. (As I don't think I could bear the taste of tobacco, I'd probably substitute a Tootsie roll pop.)
Gem for the day: if you're going to get a big-ass pickup that sits high from the ground, make sure your hip will allow you to climb into it.
And make sure your dental work won't come out with your "chaw".
ReplyDeleteAny time the IRS wants money from us, they want it by a certain date, or else. If, however, they need to give us some of our money back, they can take their sweet time, and they never owe interest. No one could run a business this way and survive!