… is that you don’t have to do death every damn year.

I return now, after spending most of the last few days enduring the government’s annual attempt to dazzle me with the four basic mathematical operators before taking large chunks of my money, partly to finance pointless killing in my name.

Without getting into boring detail, my tax situation is a little complex.  Thing is, if you read too closely, the IRS doesn’t exactly help.  Over the weekend, I was instructed in writing to both (a) submit and (b) not submit a particular schedule, and to send the kaboodle to two alternative, mutually exclusive locations.

Yes, I read very carefully, double- and triple-checking.  Eventually, I chose to follow the instructions that looked like they would be seen by more people, choosing safety in numbers.

This way, at least I will have company in jail.