Wannakan Almanac for Tuesday, April 15, 2025 Uh...Your Hand is in my Pocket!

Wouldn't it be nice if all we had to pay was a couple chunks of cheese to the dog every April 15...instead of an ever growing amount of money?!?  

I have to admit...I guess I make too much money.  This year I had to pay in an extra giant amount of cash...even though I have been sending in money every month.  They ain't just taxing my cheese!  They are taxing my income like I didn't work to earn it!  And woe to me if I didn't spend every cent and decided to save some...they take money off the interest I make too!  

I found this poem online...attributed to Anonymous.  He probably called himself anonymous in order to not have traceable income somehow from this prose.

The Tax Poem

Tax his land, Tax his bed, Tax the table at which he's fed. 

Tax his tractor, Tax his mule, Teach him taxes are the rule.

Tax his work, Tax his pay, He works for peanuts anyway!

Tax his cow, Tax his goat, Tax his pants, Tax his coat. Tax his ties, Tax his shirt, Tax his work, Tax his dirt.

Tax his tobacco, Tax his drink, Tax him if he tries to think.

Tax his cigars, Tax his beers, If he cries tax his tears.

Tax his car, Tax his gas, Find other ways to tax his ass.

Tax all he has, Then let him know, That you won't be done till he has no dough.

When he screams and hollers, Then tax him some more, Tax him till he's good and sore.

Then tax his coffin, Tax his grave, Tax the sod in which he's laid.

Put these words Upon his tomb, 'Taxes drove me to my doom...'

When he's gone, Do not relax, Its time to apply the inheritance tax.

This past year I worked as a:

1. Teacher
2. Pastor
3. Coach
4. Announcer
5. Lunch Room Supervisor
6. Morning Supervisor

6 jobs.  I did most of them pretty well.  It seems a shame that pretty much every cent I made from 4 of those jobs went to pay the taxman.  If only there was a Bible verse that could console me for all this money rendered unto Ceasar!