Does anybody remember when the old woman Slow had a REAL job?   I thought not.   Well, luckily The Red Man has a mind like a steel trap and returns to the thrilling days of yesteryear before Slow became my editor and actually worked with numbers.   Scary.   Stockbroker, financial advisor, CPA…yikes.   No wonder she’d rather work for moi.   Financial statement preparation?   Working for The Red Man?   Planning for a child’s college education?   Working for The Red Man?   Preparing  retirement and estate plans for Peeps who should have started planning YEARS AGO?   Working for The Red Man?   Selling long term care insurance or life insurance or disability insurance or insurance insurance?   Working for The Red Man?   Preparing income tax returns by hand?   Working for The Red Man?   Hello, no contest. We Have A Winner And It’s The Red Man!

So yesterday we took a trip down memory lane and visited the site of one of the old woman’s previous haunts which was her office for the last five years of her numbers gig.   Yep, the old home place looks the same as I walked down memory lane and there to greet me was my mama and my daddy.  Down the road I looked and there came Mary, hair of gold and lips like cherry.  It’s good to touch the green, green grass of home.   Somebody Stop Me – I wouldn’t recognize my mama and daddy if they walked up to me and sniffed my butt and who in the hell is Mary?

This Peep’s name was Barbara and she was using a computer to prepare Pretty and Slow’s income tax returns for last year.   Yippee – just how I’d hoped to spend the afternoon.   Waiting around while somebody puts numbers in a computer and figures out how much money we need to send to the IRS which is Spanish for IRS.   Of course, everyone in the office remembered The Red Man and Slow so it was great seeing them again.   Boring.   Super Boring.

So Barbara worked and worked and finished the returns and Slow was happy to send the money to the government which from what I hear from Rush Limbaugh lately is being spent on prostitution.   Okay.   I get that.   Prostitution?   War in Iraq?   Sluts?   War in Afghanistan?   Sex Free For All?   War in Iran?   Oops…is there a War in Iran yet?   OMG, I can’t keep up, Rush, so I’ll just tell you you should have NEVER started this bullshit.   I’m thinking you must be an idiot and you also need to take a Course in Apologies because you are off the beaten path and flying solo on Aplogies, as in clueless.   This is an apology: I’m Sorry  I Called You A Slut because I know you are really a nice woman standing up for your beliefs.   See how easy that is?  You should try it the next time you make an ass of yourself, Rush.

Get me outta here Percy.  I’ve gone to hell in a handbasket tonight and can’t seem to get a grip on the transition.   It happens every year around tax time.

Adios, Amigos – don’t forget to send your money to the IRS before April 17th. or the boogeyman will get you.   Paw Snaps!   I just figured out who the Boogeyman is.   It’s Rush.