Humor by Michael Showalter

It's been a long, cold winter but spring is finally here. How do I know? I know because, just like last year at this time, it's a beautiful day outside and I'm trapped at my desk trying to figure out how to do my taxes.

Let me amend that last statement: I'm trapped at my desk trying to figure out how to use the computer program that is supposedly there to help me do my taxes.

You know what? Let me amend that statement, too: I'm actually trying to figure how to use the computer that is supposedly there to help me use the computer program that is supposedly there to help me to do my taxes. It's a lost cause.

I wish it were the medieval times and some guy would ride on horseback to my house and demand money for the king and I'd just give him a little bag of gold coins or a box filled with spices -- or maybe just a goat would suffice. That would be so much less complicated. They barely ever worried about how to use TurboTax in those days.

And why do I always wait until the last minute? Oh, I know! Because it's a horrible experience that I want to avoid at all costs. I mean, not that filling out forms and giving away your money isn't fun. It's a blast!

I know I should just cave in and take my taxes to an accountant, but you've got to understand something: I won't even ask a stranger for directions! I once drove from Delaware to Philadelphia and wound up in Albuquerque because I wouldn't ask for directions. I knew I was completely lost, but for me it was a pride thing. By the way, Albuquerque is a great city.

See, I'm a do-it-myself kind of guy. Paying some "trained professional" just doesn't sit right with me. I mean, it's not like these guys went to school for this or anything. (My girlfriend has just informed me that they do go to school for it.) So fine, they went to school for it.

Look, I built that birdhouse in our backyard myself, so why can't I do this myself, too? Wow. I just had a thought: If I could somehow persuade the IRS to let me build a birdhouse instead of filling out these forms, I'd be golden. That would be a walk in the park! Note to self: Write my senator a letter and ask him if sending Uncle Sam a birdhouse instead of doing my taxes is a cause worth fighting for in Congress. Another note to self: Find out who my senator is.

Maybe I'm bad at this because I'm right-brained. That means I'm creative. Sadly, the last time I checked, they don't give refunds for being good at drawing pictures of boats. Maybe I'm bad at this because I blew off math in high school. Then again, I blew off European history, too, and I'm not being audited for that! Thank God I don't have to write a big paper by April 15 every year on the rise and fall of the Roman Empire -- otherwise I'd really be in trouble. I know that Caesar has a salad named after him, and that Marc Anthony is married to J.Lo, but other than that I draw a blank on the subject.

Now I'm wondering: What classes didn't I blow off in high school? Well, I didn't blow off my English classes, but I don't remember much about them, either. I mean, I know we read "Old Yeller," but I don't see how that's supposed to help me with these W-2 forms. I definitely didn't blow off the karate classes I took in that strip mall after school. I busted my butt and I still have that yellow belt as proof.

OK, I give in. I'm calling a CPR for help. They're great because they'll do your taxes and give you the Heimlich maneuver if you choke on a sandwich when they tell you what you owe.

Humor & Satire

Humor & Funny Stories - Paying Taxes is a Blast! | Diane Farr

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