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It’s Driving Me Bananas

I finished my taxes this weekend. Sure, I’m getting a big refund, I know I should be happy but there’s trouble afoot. When I told my Mom about my refund she was like, “Oh, I bet you’re happy.” Why? I shouldn’t be. I mean, it’s my money and all. I paid it in, and now I’m asking for it back. Give it up, Mr. Fed.

Every year, when I do my taxes, I start to look at how much I pay in and how much I’m getting back and it strikes me as incredibly annoying that my government takes so much from so many to do so little. I mean, what, just what, has the FDA done for you lately? And for this we pay them? Guess who’s picking up the tab for those perky little 9/11 commission hearings? Get a mirror, my friend, it’s our tax dollars at work. And what for? So some senators could preen on TV?

The press admitted this weekend that, during Dr. Rice’s private (read non-television broadcast) testimony, only 4 people on the commission asked questions and only 7 were present. They all showed up to preen across the TV though when the cameras were there. Somehow, I doubt it was to grill her with questions concerning administration knowledge of 9/11 but rather everybody was looking out for their own self-interests and wanted to get their lovely, smiling faces on my glowing TV screen. Oh joy. And for this, I have to pay.

I’ve said it before and I’m sure I’ll bitch about it again. You could finance a third world country with what I alone pay in taxes. And, no, I’m not “rich” by any stretch of the imagination.

I mean, picture it. Just picture it. Me sitting on a tropical beach, ripe in banana trade with a cool drink in one hand and a dead president in the other. And, for what my government does for me, they all but drive me bananas. I’m convinced that the entire GDP of a small-ish country (I’m thinking someplace like Belize here, folks. Maybe even someplace without quite a tourist trade) is smaller than my tax bill.

“They give tax cuts to the rich!” scream the democrats. The republicans drop bunker-busting 1500 pound multi-thousand dollar bombs onto tents in desolated Arab lands. It’s insanity. We’d be better off if we all traded bananas. At least the chimps would be happy and that would make one of us, right? Then again, I’ve seen some of my congressmen and the word “chimp” isn’t all too far off.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.


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