25 04 2015

Everything I lay my eyes upon lays lifeless dead.
The invasives and their rusted reds, near-maroons.
The browns of field grasses,
The matted metallic greys and silvers of
Ashes and Oaks stretching along and through
The distance past long stretches of highway.
The whites of so few falling snowflakes
They can be counted one by one,
Then they are gone.
These, the colored muted tones of earth;
Like near-winter has come to taunt.
I instead find these solemn-appearing things
Peaceful as I hear reassurances in the creakings,
The rustlings of forest branches as if to say
     All is well
And so Spring advances forward even though not
Seen, I can smell its musty aura upon the
Flooding torrents of late night and mid-morning
Rain storms soaking the world drab
In order that the palette might be rendered blank
For this year’s delicacy of color.

Tax Story: 2015 Editon

15 04 2015

This is a true story, bro.

Kinda been craving me a shake.
A shake sounds good. Meet at 6?
Sweet. I’m starving.
Let’s do 5:30. I’m hungry, too.
Ok. I need about 15 minutes to change.
That’s fine. I’m not home yet and have to do my city taxes…that’ll only take a few minutes.
You and those darn taxes. 😣
I know. It’s a bigger ass plug every year.
Freaking hilarious.

A few numbers in case you’re wondering: I am paying $100 more this year. I paid $130 less to my State than to my town. My town is taking a whopping 1/3 of what the Fed did.

I hope the unnecessary police department is happy with their shiny new vehicles. The silver lining? At least I wasn’t subject to Obamacare.

Tune in next year for more crazy fun


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