apocalypsos: (courtesy of dementia 42)
[personal profile] apocalypsos
*pokes teeny jelly belly* Um, damn. I need to start doing stomach crunches again.

And I just got my taxes done. Yay, I'm a horrible little procrastinator! Admittedly, a horrible little procrastinator the government owes 442 bucks, but still, bad me!

When it came time for the "Would you like to donate $3 to the Presidential Election Campaign Fund?" question, I could not press the "no" option fast enough or often enough. I kept expecting the computer voice to stop in the middle of a programmed question and say, "All right, fine! I get it! How about this -- I can get you directions to a dirty basement apartment where a man named Guido is collecting funds to dispose of --" Followed almost immediately by a strangling noise, a long silence, and another, more sedate voice saying, "Hello, Mr. Anderson ... er, Miss. Care to finish your tax return before the apocalypse?"

*contemplates that* Um, Hugo Weaving and the apocalypse? Where do I get the phone number for that Telefile? *puppy-dog eyes*
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