Crap on a stick

Oh yeah. Taxes are due tomorrow. Wow - look at procrastination rearing its ugly head and biting me on the ass. Well, I'll either hit the library for the forms or go back to my TurboTax on the web and pay my $81 electronically. No panic, just...

Crap on a stick. Taxes suck when you aren't getting anything back.

HP slash rec

Lori pointed this story out to me, which usually means I peek at it from behind my fingers and fall to the ground, twitching once I take a peek at the prose.

This, however, was not the case. The Courtship of Harry Potter is an interesting take on ancient Greek social mores interposed on Hogwarts. I totally geeked out on the historical/erotic implications, and the story is just awesome.

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Well, bugger me anally with a pointed stick wielded by a ferret on speed.

I can't find my tax shit.

Yet another reason for Misha to Never Procrastinate Her Taxes.

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I keep staring at the clue I left myself on the Turbo Tax site. I'm so cute when I think up new passwords and never use them again.

I can find quarterly investment reports (unopened) going back three years, and gaming characters from last year, and even last year's return, but not my W-2 from two months back.

Camel-felching nerf-herders.

Hah!

I have conquered the beast that is my taxes. Talk about paperless - my W-2 info was on my personal employee web-thingee, and I filed electronically (still can't find the bloody W-2s, so I couldn't just mail in the silly thing) Found a place that only charged me $8, which wasn't terribly painful, and I only owed the gub'mint $71, not $81.

My bed is buried in old investment crap that I tore through looking for the W-2s, but the stress-beast that might have threatened the zen-osity of my workday tomorrow has been defeated like the wussy-pimp-tastic-weasel-fellater it is.