Showing posts with label don't you hate it when. Show all posts
Showing posts with label don't you hate it when. Show all posts

Monday, January 26, 2009

Tax Tip

The other day I took my daughter to the library to return 2 movies that were 10 weeks overdue. Will that library ever learn, and cut up my card, probly not.

While I was there I noticed that all the tax forms were laid out for the taking. And take I did. I suppose it is the accountant in me that goes all giddy at the sight of tax forms.

As I was perusing the forms during my bedtime reading, I came across a useful tip that in my usual benevolence, I will pass on to all of you.

I am sure that this will come as devastating news to most of you, so brace yourself, but deductions for charitable contributions of certain taxidermy property after July 26, are limited.

See publication for form 8283 for further details. If your walls or front yard looks like this you may be in trouble.


So those of you with stuffed squirrels, skunks, gophers, rabbits, cats, dogs, gerbils, parakeets, snakes, frogs, deer, bison, cougars, giraffes, monkeys, pigs, turtles, or anything else for that matter, too bad you have held onto them too long. Had you donated them to the goodwill sooner you could have taken the full deduction. Now your deduction will be limited. Bummer, huh.
I know that many of you have a slue of stuffed pets, such as these. Having your deceased pet stuffed and mounted is a great way to help ease the pain for yourself and your kids. Who doesn't need a diorama of a squirrel paddling a canoe or two squirrels duking it out in the ring, sitting on their mantel?
I wonder if this guy will try to convince his wife that this should be the centerpiece in their living room?
And for your one stop shopping, check out this store, you can get a tattoo, whilst your beloved animal is getting stuffed.


Please accept my condolences on the tax deduction loss. Dang IRS sucking the fun out of life. I hate it when that happens.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Another one bites the dust, or not.

Almost everything in my life sucks right now, except my vacuum cleaner. Just so you know. Because I am sure you were wondering, weren't you? It is due to a long series of unfortunate events, that I am suckless in the cleaning of my floors. Usually when people tell you suck, it is a bad thing, but this is not one of those times.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away, well before we had kids, at least. That would be almost 18 years ago. We had the money to buy the things we needed in life. Funny how that works, you get kids and all your money just flies out the window by the buckets full.

Back to the story, right after we were married, we lived in a furnished basement apartment for the five years we were at BYU. See we liked BYU so much we hated to leave. And this apartment was something right out of the book Charly.

Water heater in the kitchen, water closet for a bathroom, and a bedroom, that's it. The good news of this place is that there was no where to go but up from there. Some people said that they had not even lived anywhere as ghetto as that, on their missions.

The bathroom ceiling was about 2 inches shorter than my husband. You could sit on the commode and touch the wall in the shower with one hand and the other wall of the bathroom with the other. Serious claustrophobia, if you know what I mean.

But the upside to this place was the price. We got what we paid for and we didn't get what we didn't pay for, if you know what I mean. Guess how much it was a month? You will never guess, except Funny Farmer, because she lived there after us. Oh and Stephanie, she lived there too. OK, I will tell you, $125 a MONTH including our heat, which in Provo is the same as gold. Can you believe it? I know I am ancient, but this was not that long ago.

I am convinced that it was the best deal in town. Great for struggling college students needing to pay tuition. And besides we lived on love and macaroni and cheese. We didn't need things like stinkin living rooms.

The point to all this ridiculous detail into the first five years of our marriage is that the place came with a vacuum. Now it may have been a vacuum that came across the plains with the pioneers, but it was a vacuum nonetheless.

So I never needed to get a vacuum. Finally, when we moved into the student housing at graduate school, the time had come. I was working and so even though we were students, no kids remember, so we still had money. And now we were paying $300 a month. The horror, I know. Tragic.

It was at this point that we bought a very nice canister Kenmore vacuum at Sears. The way that thing just followed me around, sucking up any thing on the carpet brought tears to my eyes. Of course again no kids, so not that much sucking up needed.

Fast forward 18 years and countless vacuum bags later. The sucking up still brings tears to my eyes, but they are tears of dismay and disappointment not joy and happiness . In fact it is not uncommon for my vacuum to spit at me instead of suck. That is just wrong and spiteful, to suck things up only to spit them all back out. Very insensitive.

And so even though I think I have been very faithful in following the adage to use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without. The doing with out has got to end. Sometimes no amount of duct tape can beat a dead horse.

Any of you who were reading this blog last summer, know that I had every intention of buying a new vacuum at the Fourth of July sales. But that is right when Jared got sick, so it never happened. And then one thing after another, and here I am with still no vacuum.

My sister did try valiantly when she was here at the beginning of December. She went to Wal Mart and bought a vacuum. She even vacuumed my whole house. But she thought it was too heavy, especially to carry up and down the stairs, so she even more kindly took it back.

We then bought a smaller more light weight one. But that one didn't really work out either. It kind of looked like a toy and it was hard to push over the rugs on my laminate floors.

You might be reading this in horrified wonderment at how I could live for so long without a vacuum. I share your astonishment. One reason is that the first floor of my house is laminate flooring, so a broom works for cleaning purposes. The other reason, is that it has just not made it to the top of the priority list. And hey, you can't feel guilty for not vacuuming, if you don't even own a vacuum, right? Well some might, but I can't.

So at this time I bid a fond farewell to my old vacuum. Thanks for all the great cleaning memories over the past two decades. Good bye, farewell, Adios, Sionara, Adieu, parting is such sweet sorrow.

I can no longer live with your lazy ways, I need something that sucks.

Monday, November 3, 2008

Don't you hate it when....

you decide to join a gym. You have the meeting with the personal trainer. One week you even go three times. The rest of the month you average about once a week or not at all. Also you indulge in an occasional dessert, because after all you go to the gym so you can afford some extra calories. This disparity between the calories you think you have burned and the calories you have actually burned, well 10 extra pounds on the scales.

Bottom line: cost of a gym membership $30 and a new wardrobe because you have grown out of your old clothes.

Yea, I hate it when that happens.

So get on over to Shelle at Blok-thoughts and read all the really funny entries. It's a great way to start your week.

Monday, October 27, 2008

Don't you hate it when....

Oh my goodness, I am entering another contest. Who'd of thunk it. Shelle over at Blok-thoughts is having a fun weekly contest called Don't you hate it when..... Go check out the entries, because they really are laugh out loud funny.

Here's my story titled "Anybody got a quarter?"

Don't you hate it when you have to take your invalid son to yet another doctor appointment.

We finish up around lunch time. We are both hungry. He wants McDonalds which makes me want to puke. I want Qdoba, just the most fabulous restaurant in the world. Especially the chips and guacamole.

Economic times being what they are, this also plays a role. Thanks to a most wonderful friend who was at a UNLV football game and gathered up a bunch of $5 Qdoba gift certificates, I figured I could get my lunch for free.

With much protest from son, I stopped at Qdoba first because it was closer and I was the one driving the car.

Here I encountered a nice if not so flexible employee. I asked for my chips and guacamole. That was $2.89. Way under $5, so I decided I could lived life large and ordered another side of guacamole. Now the total was $4.11.

Here's where the inflexibility comes in. That was all I wanted, but the guy said that the total had to be over $5 or he could not put the negative $5 coupon in. Good grief. I looked on the menu for something else.

He helpfully recommended a drink. I don't really like to get drinks. I don't even like soft drinks, just water for me. They are a big fat waste of money in my opinion. My kids hate this about me. So, OK in the interest of getting my free food, I will take a drink that I don't even want.

Now the total is $5.27. Great. Now the tricky/exasperating part. I don't have 27 cents. In fact thanks to pilfering kids, I have exactly one penny.

Resourcefully, I hand the guy my debit card. No Go , they can not do a debit transaction for 27 cents. Holy panic, batman.

I say, hold on I will go and look in my car. I search high and low, under floor mats, in crevices, and ash trays. So much fun.

Finally I score two dimes and two pennies, bringing my total to 23 cents.

I go back in and ask the guy, could this just please work. And mercifully he accepts.

And so I leave with my chips, guacamole, and drink.

I guess there is no such thing as a free lunch.