Runcible Blog

taxes make me want to cry

I just filed my taxes online and am ready to cry now. Somehow I owe more than $900 to the government. Between my meager paycheck, my recent car purchase, the very high car insurance cost, and rent, I'm getting clobbered. Even though I'm pretty frugal, nay miserly, my savings have disappeared. I love hearing "it's never too early to save for retirement". Yeah right. I think I can afford to put a nickel in a jar every week for my retirement. That'll add up to $114 by the time I'm 65 -- a healthy nest-egg if you ask me.

And what's the deal with electronically filing? Why can't the government offer that service? Why do I have to go through several private companies' sites, giving out my personal information to some corporation? If the government wants my money, why don't they make it easier to collect it by having just one electronic filing service?

And don't get me started on this stupid tax code. I bet if I paid some accountant to do my taxes I'd be getting a nice return rather than paying a hefty bill. There are too many loopholes and hidden ways of keeping more of your money. Millionaires can find a way to weasel out of paying any taxes, while slobs like me have to make up the difference.

Isn't America great?



Scarred For Life

Pi Tattoo

Friday night I decided to get poked with an ink-filled needle at Masterpiece Tattoo in Salem. I wasn't sure what to expect of the pain because everybody responds differently. At first, during the outline, it felt like a razor was scoring my arm slightly (I actually know how that feels). It wasn't too bad, but about ten minutes in, my ears started going blank, and my eyes started to fade out into blue. I felt like I was going to throw up, pass out, or fall asleep peacefully, but I didn't do either. I closed my eyes for a little bit and eventually started feeling normal again. The endorphins must've kicked in by the time Joe (the tattoo artist) started filling in the Pi. It felt much milder by that time, and I chatted with Joe a bit (cool guy). After about 45 minutes it was done, and I was happy, I think. Actually I don't remember feeling anything. It was as if π was already on my arm; I just had to get it filled with ink to see it. Pretty deep, huh?

Err, well as to why I picked π, unfortunately I don't have a plausible explanation or justification for it. Someone else wrote an explanation for his π tattoo that sounds good to me. I think it's fascinating to know that because the decimal expansion of π is infinite, everything I write and everything I read occurs somewhere in the digits of π. That's hard to imagine. For instance, my birthday occurs starting at 60,467,529 places after the decimal point in π, and my phone number occurs 12,964,862 places after the decimal. If you could search through the entire length of π (which you can't), you'd find everything -- every string of numbers and every string of characters converted to numbers. Imagine that!

But if that justification doesn't appeal to you, I suppose the easy thing to say is that since π is an irrational number, I figured it'd be a perfect tattoo for an irrational guy like me.

I'm sure I'm not done with tattoos considering I'm the kind of person who wears his beliefs on his sleeve. I want my grandkids to know what a big dork I used to be (assuming I don't become a dorky octogenarian).


Nerdboy sees Hellboy

I made it to Lowe's just in time for the start of Hellboy, but the theater was nearly packed. There are always a few people who come in late, looking silly as they try to find a seat in the dark.

As luck would have it, at the top of the theater in the center of the room sat a solitary seat apart from the other seats in its row, tailor made for lonely guys. Needless to say, I was more than happy to see that Lowe's no longer discriminates against dateless moviegoers. If only more businesses were as tolerant. For instance, restaurants should have more tables with just one chair, car manufacturers should get rid of the passenger and rear seats (who needs em?), and any item that's sold in a "his and hers" set should have an "only his" option. Also, sidewalks should be made narrower for those of us who aren't strolling side-by-side with a significant other, and beaches should be shorter to accommodate people who don't enjoy long walks by themselves.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal, even ones without dates." I have a dream that one day at the Pizza Hut in Methuen, creepy, single, white males and smiling couples will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that loners like me will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the cars they drive but by the content of their blogs. I have a dream today.
an excerpt of a speech I delivered to myself in the bathroom one day


Oh, and Hellboy was pretty good.


new pictures

smashed TV
Who smashed my TV?!

Marty plays games
Marty plays games

rusty wheels
pretty, rusty wheels