As you know, I generally feature Etsy sellers on my blog. But sometimes I come across something on the internet that makes me laugh out loud and I just have to share it with all my regular readers. This is one of those times. This is quite seriously one of the funniest writers I've ever found!
Ok, he's my husband. ;) However, I stand by what I said about being the funniest writer I've found. Not only is he hilariously funny, he's smart and witty too.
Read on to find out one reason why I love him so much. (and yes, he did have me design his banner. Nice and simple, just like me! LOL!)
Ok, enough of my rambling, here is his column for this week. Enjoy!
A Taxing Time
As an adult, I am legally allowed to own a calendar. I now possess quite a few, each provided under the guise of free by various businesses who wish to remind me on a monthly basis that I probably still owe them money. Money I don’t have on account of their services. Services which would have cost less had they not insisted I receive their free monthly advertising tool.
According to said calendar - securely hung between the fridge and birdcage on a nail driven into the drywall with a butter knife - it is now a new month. You might already know this and perhaps it doesn’t come as a life changing surprise but it does mean we are quickly heading into tax time. Meaning you may soon find yourself running from a dog named Bowser. Or Bruiser. A dog specially taught using your tax dollars. A tax dog trained on a strict schedule that undoubtedly involved a calendar. Perhaps one featuring cute furry woodland creatures frolicking gaily in a meadow. Perhaps dancing to the soft instrumental chords of cartoon music. Or perhaps not.
As a seasoned humour writer with nothing better to do, I have decided to help all the dedicated readers out there by writing an informative income tax column of at least 800 words. I do this completely for your benefit while unselfishly facing the very real danger of my acquiring yet another tax deduction.
I will accomplish this feat by starting the column in the bedroom, then moving to the kitchen, the loo and possibly even the top of the roof so the neighbours have something to talk about. Maybe even write letters to the editor about. Or the police.
Providing my laptop battery doesn’t die a horrible death at an incredibly inopportune time - like during a tricky game of Solitaire - I will finish this highly informative column hunkered in that special spot behind the water heater in audience of a family of spiders who absolutely refuse to pay taxes. This is the same place I hide when my wife wants me to do something domestic such as talking about our feelings or taking care of the children. The ones who call me Dad. The ones I am obligated by law to feed.
As in other years, children are not only an invaluable collection of germs, but also a fine source of personal income tax deductions. This because children tend to be very costly and require constant supervision in order to keep really bad things from happening to the family pet. Tragic events which all too often result in emergency trips to the local veterinarian; a highly trained professional who willingly provides a detailed bill featuring way too many numerical place settings. Fortunately this bill can be used as a medical expense deduction so long as you don’t mind filing all subsequent returns from the comforts of a federal prison under the watchful eye of Spike the Cellmate.
The good news is not only are children considered dependants, but they are also a proven source of stress. Offspring induced parental stress can result in any number of tax deductible psychological disorders treatable by yet another highly trained professional who would like nothing more than supply you with a new calendar. And himself a new summer home.
So yes, tax time can be trying, but paying our fair share is an acceptable fact of life for those who choose to live in a country that routinely allows squirrels to pass unchecked through customs. A country that encourages citizens to roam freely from sea to shining sea in vehicles that cause birds to drop festively from the sky. Vehicles powered by a product produced by an oil company whose high life executives have way more tax deductions than you even though they make thousands of times more. Executives who collectively paid a total of $4.36 in tax in 2006 which they secretly passed onto the consumer (you) even though it ($4.36) will be refunded to them (them) in 2007 as a capital loss. Not that I’m bitter (jealous).
So what can you, an everyday law abiding citizen, do to alleviate some of your tax burden? Other than becoming a cell mate? Well, leading financial experts suggest investing in a well rounded RRSP. Not only do RRSP’s provide a simple yet effective tax shelter, but they allow for the false security of financial stability upon your retirement. An event that will not happen until you are a hundred years old.
At this point you will be classified as an antique and presented a certified centenarian certificate paid for with your tax dollars. Also, if you are lucky - and by lucky I mean really, really lucky - perhaps they’ll even give you a new calendar.
Let me know if you need help hanging it.
Contact: vaughan_reid@hotmail.com
Copyright © Vaughan Reid
