Sunday, March 25, 2012
At first I was excited when the IRS said that I was a non-resident alien. I thought I might get a ray gun and a taste for world domination, like this guy:
But instead I got 75 pages of instructions for a 2 page form. Holy crap. Your sitcom writers weren't exaggerating, were they? It really is that awful.
Next year, I'm going to a professional.
In the meantime, I'm feeling a bit like this:
And a lot like this (lyrics NSFW):
Anything driving you to distraction this week?
Or to drink?