Taxes

Marriage: The state of being married; any close or intimate union.


SuperK and I got started on our taxes this weekend. I'm self-employed, working out of the house, and paying my own expenses. Which means that most of the 27,000 pages of the U.S. tax code apply to me somehow. We use a sophisticated tax preparation software package which walks us very carefully through the process, in minute detail, asking questions like: "What percentage of the provisions of the 1987 amendment to the Pass Through Act apply to all or part of the income earned outside of your stated school district?" There is a tab which says "Skip This Step" which we use all of the time. Or we say Various or 100%. We make stuff up just to fuck with them.


Anyway, did I happen to mention that SuperK is going to Super Special Heaven? This isn't normal heaven with good food and nice weather and angels reclining on soft clouds, strumming lutes. This is a roped off area with a tough looking angel bouncer who is weeding out the normal divine riff-raff to get to the really deserving people. "Oh, Mrs. Horseface (SuperK took my last name when we got married, which she regrets, I think), right this way. C'mon folks, make way, please. VIP coming through."

We pretty much got them done, with no serious bloodshed or broken bones, and we only had to resort to a very moderate level of lying. We lied like kids, not like drunken sailors or sociopaths. We owe money which hardly seems fair. We saved the money that we have to pay the government which is more of a blessing than we care to admit.

The government doesn't want your money. They want their money