Tuesday, April 17, 2012

Good morning crew,

Happy Tax Day, everybody! Yes, I know it is April 17, but thanks to the holiday of Emancipation Day (whatever that is) falling yesterday the IRS has postponed the deadline until today.

I gave up doing my own taxes years ago and I still regard it as one of the smartest decisions I ever made. The simple relief of handing someone a folder full of papers and thirty minutes later being handed a return to sign is so well worth the money.

Look at it this way; I read that it takes an average of 12 hours for most people to do all the work required to file their own taxes. I paid my tax girl $175. Is 12 hours of your life worth 175 bucks? It is for me.

There are all sorts of fun little statistic about taxes floating around this year. For example, the U.S. tax code has tripled in size in the last decade. It now runs to 3.8 million words. To put that in context, William Shakespeare only needed 900,000 words to say everything he had to say. All of the plays, all of the sonnets, everything. But the tax code is now our times the size of Shakespeare's entire, collected works.

Seems like it should take longer than 12 hours, doesn't it?

And you better make sure you pay, too. You need to come up with $800,000 for the party the General Services Administration threw in Vegas last year.

And make sure to throw in a little extra for all of the partying the Secret Service did in Columbia recently. Yes, your tax money is important to a lot of people.

Laugh it up,

Joe

joe@gophercentral.com

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"It is no secret that our economy is in the dumpster, because our economy knows the dumpster is where you can sometimes find old muffins." Stephen Colbert

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"Because Mitt Romney is a Mormon he can actually have several vice presidents. Did you know that?" -Dave Letterman

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"Hot dog pizza raises two important questions. Who came up with this monstrosity? And how quickly can it be delivered to my house?" -Craig Ferguson

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First I had to work late. Then I discovered that I'd locked my keys in the car. But the last straw was learning that roadside service couldn't get a locksmith to me for at least two hours. Finally the guy showed, looking tired and annoyed.

As he struggled with my door, I joked, "Do those Slim Jim tools come in purse-size?"

"Yeah," he muttered. "They're called keys."


*-------------- Guaranteed to Roll Your Eyes --------------*
Fellow employees at the international company where I work know I'm a notary public and have me certify personal documents.

One day, two Swedish men asked me to witness signatures on an automobile title. "I'm selling my car to this man," one of them explained. "We came here because we heard you were notorious."