Blow Me, IRS

Hey, IRS, I’m not afraid of you. It’s April 15th and I haven’t done my taxes yet. Further, I’m sitting here at work and don’t have the shit with me to do them right now. So what do you have to say about that, you fear-mongering whore dog? You can bite my ass cause I ain’t paying, you scum sucking troll.

You’ve already got a substantial chunk of change out of me – I know you do – I see it each and every two weeks on my paycheck. So you can take those stolen funds and shove it up your pie hole cause I ain’t paying you no more. That’s right – I declare myself autonomous. I am the country of Floyd where taxes are paid in beer and pizza (and an occasional doughnut wouldn’t hurt). I’m like the Vatican, baby, all solitary and independent sitting smackdab in the middle of another country. Just try to tax my ass and I’ll snatch your diplomatic immunity so fast it’ll make the pencils fall out of your shirt pocket. I got my own Floyd Mobile and some pretty kicking hats to wear so get to stepping – you’re aren’t welcome in the United States of Floyd.

AND, I have my own religion. That’s right – a little something the Princess of Darkness practices back in her bedroom. It involves candle wax and a lot of chickens but it’s religion. So don’t you dare try to tax me – I am expressing my deeply held beliefs and you can’t tax that shit, you blowholes.

Why don’t you just satisfy yourself with all those tax refunds you stole from me over the past few years cause I still owed the student loan people? You greedy fucking bastards. I figure you keep that money and I’ll keep mine and we’ll be loads better for it.

Fuck off, tax man.