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Feed the beast, feed the beast - Bob Paslay

OK, so I've fed the infernal revenue service for another year. I want you to tell me anywhere else you pay them the money, then they put you through the inconvenience of filling out forms to get a little of your own money back and then to mail these forms you have to pay 37 cents to a government that owns the post office.

Not that I think my few thousand dollars is going to make much difference. I figure when George Bush climbed aboard Air Force 1 for his Easter trip back to the ranch, my whole year's tax money probably bought enough jet fuel to get him as far as Anniston, Ala. Last year I figured I got him all the way to the ranch, but jet fuel is up 41 percent this spring.

I wonder what would happen if the president just got in a cab, went out to the airport and climbed aboard a passenger jet like the rest of us, ate some peanuts and drank a Coke and landed safely in Texas. Then one of those relatives of his could come out to the airport and claim his baggage. You really don't want the president waiting for the carrousel to sort out his luggage I guess. I mean, the guy's got plenty of money so he could have a toothbrush in Texas and another one in Washington and two 99 cent cans of shaving cream and enough underwear so he doesn't even need any baggage.

The roundtrip would cost about $250 and the thousands of dollars in savings could be spent on something else. I am always amazed that people like the president who complain about tax and spend liberals never do anything like this to save us a little money.

The whole tax system is flawed and encourages people to cheat because they see the waste that is going on with the money they pay.

I think they should stop taxing income and start taxing sex. Overnight you could end tax fraud. The only fraud would be those who are claiming to owe more than they really owe. "Hey, Leroy, how much are you paying in taxes this year?" Marvin yells from the french fry machine. "Check it out, man. $4,000. That little muffin I met at the mall put me into another tax bracket."

High school guys who read with flashlights under their covers at midnight would be flashing their tax forms around high school, each stud trying to outdo the other. In each presidential election year, the two opponents release their tax returns to show they are actually paying. "So," Colin Powell says to Bush at a cabinet meeting. "Now we know why they call you the commander in chief. Bada boom, bada bing."

One advantage of taxing sex is that if you can't jail the priests on illegal activity you might still get enough evidence to catch them for tax fraud.

It also would make sure the millions of illegal aliens are still contributing to the tax rolls. What self-respecting hot-blooded Latino would not want to outdo his other pals at the construction site?

For you nay-sayers I say give it a chance and see if it doesn't work better.

A friend called me in December. "Hey," he said. "You own a truck, don't you?" That is the sure sign that you are about to haul something. Turns out he has this couch he wants to donate to the Goodwill to get himself a tax break. When I arrive the couch has three cushions and each one of them has some kind of burn in them like that farmer who cut circles in his wheat field to make it look like Martians had set down in the Midwest.

He sees me staring at them. "Dude, I told them the pizza pans were hot and to wait until they cooled, but it was the Series and we were focused."

I try to talk him out of hauling this monstrosity across town, partly because I don't want to confront the sour looks of those at Goodwill and partly to save what is left of my back.

"Dude, some college students would kill for this couch," my friend says. "Yeah, it looks like there's already been a killing on this couch," I say.

As we pull away from the Goodwill, my friend is clutching his tax donation form on which he can put his own estimate of value on this "couch." I look in the rear view mirror and three burley workers are hauling the couch to some sort of giant green dumpster-grinder. It, just as the Titanic did, pauses upright for a second before going under.

"Man, some family's going to be fighting to buy that couch," my friend says. "After all, not everyone can get a $3,000 couch for a couple hundred dollars."

Bob Paslay is assistant managing editor for the News Daily and Daily Herald and can be reached at (770) 478-5753 Ext. 257 or at bpaslay@news-daily.com.