Friday, March 16, 2012

The Universe Wants My Money.

      Tax refunds are the poor mans yearly lottery winnings. Not that we entered a lottery, just that it feels like one. The truth is, if you're receiving a refund, it's kind of bullshit. It means, essentially, that the government has been using that exact amount of your money...all year...for free. A bank pays you interest, the government just gives it back at the end of the year, in a "no hard feelings", "thanks for helping pay for Senatorial blow jobs", kind of gesture.

Thanks for all the toothless hooker sex, tax payer!

Rather than feel used and slightly raped, instead, we poor folks rejoice. We's be agittin some saawweeet money! It's kind of sad, but, hey, at least we get it back. They could decide to keep it to pay for shit like...better schools. Who the fuck needs them? I be sure don'ting.

All that money for some funny hats. Pfff...I don't think so.

      I filed late this year. I, was busy slapping my boner around and sent them later. I blame myself. It was my own stupidity, blaming others would just be arrogant and stupid. Which I'm not. I am a GOD amongst stupid people. A GOD! I digress.

      Being a poor American, you want that fat refund money as soon as the I.R.S. printer craps it out. I liken it to the rush of chugging a bag a pixie sticks ...or the thrill of your first arson.  It's getting a lot of money all at once that gets us. We're hitting our own personal lottery! Everyone wants that sweet, sweet money rush, of course. So, the poorer you are, the earlier you file. Then, in turn, the earlier it gets spent, the earlier you cry, the earlier you start selling blood, sex and home made drugs to pay off the shit you bought. Ah, the American dream...and it's cyclical nightmare.

Elderly strippers are expensive. 

      Getting the refund is the easiest part, however. It turns out, that in the current universe we live in, getting ahead in life is goddamn hard. I mean it. Shit isn't easy. As it were, gangster rappers were' money, mo' problems. Seriously. They were right about something else...other than, "bitches ain't shit, but, hoes and tricks". 

But, we don't love dem hoes.

    The instant you're getting ahead, God or whomever, chooses that time to take a dump on your existence. It won't happen when you're shit out of luck and fucked. No. That would be a tragedy on top of tragedy, where's the fun in that? God saves the tragedy double play for cancer patients. 

You have cancer. YOU WIN!

      Life just seems to get a little harder when you get more money. Everything starts smoking, breaking, quitting or leaking knockout gas. What's retarded is that it happens at the same time every year. Perhaps, I'm exaggerating. Maybe, it's my lack of sleep or scrotal inflammation that's causing me to see things in a negative light. I should calm down. 

No, no, you're getting fucked with this price, not this other one. Smile!

      I can't be the only one who sees this, though? Lately, since the taxes were sent off to I.R.S. land, everything has fallen apart. The van I use as a primary conveyance loses it's ability to brake properly, causing mass terror instead. Next, I discover a broken sewage pipe that has been leaking since Jesus was in burlap diapers. How did I find that? By moving a clothes dryer that recently decided to become a boxy metal paper weight, rather than heat and dry clothes...and weed. The universe knows how to properly pinch your metaphorical nipple and twist. What a bitch.

We've taken a vote and we officially hate you, Elton. 

Thanks universe


  1. At least you get tax refunds. Our tax office undercharges us for years, then makes us pay the difference all at once. Thousands of years of tax, to be paid, TOMORROW!

    1. I believe that collection method is only applied to student and home loans here.


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