Harmony County

2011 & 2009 Winner of "Best Humor Column" awarded by the SC Press Association

Liar, liar, pants on fire

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   It is April 15, the National Day of Guilt, and I am sure we all feel ashamed of ourselves. Right now, millions of falsehoods, omissions, little white lies, and out and out whoppers are finding their way to the IRS, where they all will be taken with a grain of salt about the size of a piano. But, a few of us are going to have the opportunity to make new, special friends.

    Well, if you decide to go that route allow me to provide a word of warning, based upon a hard experience, quite possibly the worst of my life.

   It started quite innocently enough. The invitation to the IRS might have been of my own making. It was a disastrous football season and so I decide to list the fees of my gaming consultant (read bookie, if you must be crude) as a consulting fee. “No big deal”, I unwisely thought. The IRS had other views on the matter.

   The first thing to remember is that the IRS makes all the rules. The second is that they interpret those rules and their interpretation is final. The last is that each agent interprets those rules differently and always to the benefit of the IRS. Judge, jury, and executioner all rolled up into one unsympathetic, polyester package.

   Of course, you have to go to the IRS office for the meeting. I had my accountant along with me. All the while we were on our way he was ‘talking the talk and walking the walk’. He was telling me how we were going to clean the floor with these people. How he was going to make these guys look like idiots. That he knew the regs better than they did and he would shove them down their throats.

    I remember thinking, “This guy has got me as his client to protect. At least we will go down swinging. Plus he was the one that prepared the return.” Was I ever wrong on that one.

   My accountant set the world, indoor, unlimited weight class record for rolling over. Everything the IRS Agent said he agreed to without so much as a question. If the IRS said I was responsible for Hurricane Hugo, he would have agreed and have me pay the damages.

   This guy was throwing my money around faster than I could count it. When the meeting was over I was light a little over $13,000. He was short one client before we got to the elevator.

   So, there in lies the lesson. Long ago the nuns taught us, “Never steal anything small”. Mistakes can be made, but carefully balance how much money you can hide versus how big a fine you may end up paying or possible jail time. The IRS knows where you live, work, and bank.

   I have an Uncle Seamus. He liked to call himself a, ‘creative accountant’. Well, right now he has a job with the state creating license plates. He is up for parole next month.© 2010, Harmony County


Written by harmonycounty

April 26, 2010 at 4:42 p04

Posted in Americana, Humor, Politics

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