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June 2008 Archives |
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10/05/2007
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Without admitting anything, I, like a lot of people, have downloaded the occasional copyrighted material like an mp3 or a video file or something in my distant past. Just recently, I had a desire to use Adobe Photoshop. I received a very old version a long time ago but I have since lost that CD. For those of you that don't know, Photoshop is a very popular graphics program that can cost anywhere from 600 to 1000 dollars. Who wants to spend that much for software when you're not a business? I found some "serial key generator" thing and wanted to see if it would work to unlock the trial version of the software.
In a bad coincidence, all trial versions of Photoshop have been suspended until July 1st by Adobe. That would be tomorrow. For some reason I felt like I couldn't wait so I put Photoshop CS3 into Google and tried to find alternate sources. Unfortunately, Filehippo.com accommodated and the 400 mb download began.
Now I know there are all kinds of spyware, viruses, and trojans on the internet. I know that. But I thought if I scanned the file first with my antivirus program then perhaps I can avoid getting infected. I started off by just scanning the .exe install file. No virus alerts so I double clicked the program to launch it. My anti virus programs is going bonkers, it wants me block this and remove that blah blah. I cancel the installation program but it's too late. The damage has been done.
This is what I have subjected my home computer to. The background on my desktop was suddenly replaced with an image that says, "You're computer has spyware, please install an anti virus program now." When I go into Control Panel > Display > the tab that allows you to set your background image has disappeared. Clearly, the spyware has already modified my registry to not allow me to change this retarded graphic. I notice I now have an icon on my Quick Launch, my Desktop, and Program files menu with a new application called MProtect. This crappy spyware has basically installed spyware on my computer and wants to direct me to it's spyware remover program by installing it all over my computer. It also has altered my Internet Explorer to the point where it doesn't work and when I try to close it there's a pop up window that says, "You have spyware! Buy our program."
I tried doing a "system restore" on the computer and it fixed my desktop background thing and my internet explorer works but now I get random internet explorer pop ups and god knows what else the spyware is doing.
This isn't the first spyware/virus I've gotten in my life. When it's in your system this deep, the only course of action is to reload your operating system. Some of you may ask, why don't you just get an anti virus program or anti spyware program. The answer is I have all those things but since there are an infinite amount of spyware and viruses being created every day, most anti spyware/virus programs can't fix your problem. For all my antivirus program knows, the program is behaving like it's supposed to. Hell, I'm the one that installed it!
Sometimes I wonder if legitimate companies put out "infected" bootleg copies of their own program on the internet so that people like me will install it and ruin their computer and then eventually just buy a legitimate copy of the program because the carnage wasn't worth it.
It's going to take me at least 6 hours our more to fix my computer and at this point, I'm tempted to spend the money on getting a real licensed, copy of Photoshop. At least I know of a course of action on how to fix my computer, I feel bad for people who don't and have to put more money in their computer to hire some "professional" to fix it. |
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Years ago I dated a girl who liked to use the Ouija board for kicks. I, being the skeptic that I am, made the mistake one night of telling her I didn’t believe in those things. She became defensive about it and immediately brought the board out and set it up. We’d had a couple of drinks prior to that and she asked me if I felt drunk. Being Irish, it was my turn to get defensive and I told her “CERTAINLY NOT!” She told me that there were certain rules that had to be followed to use the board. The most important rule apparently is that you cannot be drunk while playing. She said it draws the wrong types of spirits and it would be a bad experience. After some deep thought I rubbed my chin and said “Ewwwwkay”. She then informed me that at no time should the planchette (that arrow looking thing that floats over the letters) be left on the board unless it is upside down. This apparently is a bad thing also although I’m not quite sure what the harm would be. If the thing were to move by itself it would make an instant believer out of me. I think my reply to this rule was a swig from my bud light followed by one of those internal burps where you leave your mouth closed and your cheeks bulge out like a self-inflatable raft. I guess the look on my face gave my thoughts away because she finished her ouija soliloquy by telling me that if I wasn’t serious she would put it away. After reassuring her that I was ready, she lit the candles.
Each corner of the board rested on our protruding knees as we sat Indian style in the dark. We both placed our fingers on the planchette and she instructed me to relax. You touch the piece as lightly as possible to give it the most mobility. I kid you not, the moment I exhaled trying to relax, the planchette began to turn circles on the board. Of course, I immediately screeched “YOU’RE DOING THAT” to which she huffed and said “AND OFF” (this is the verbal instruction telling you to disengage and lift your hands from the planchette). She gave me one of those chick moves all of us guys know: when she tilts her head to one side and gouges you with her eyes with that facial expression that says “I guess it’s your turn to get drunk AGAIN so I have to drive”. Reading her mind I said “Okay, fine. Let’s try again.” We begin again and the piece begins to circle the board. She finally asks the game “Who are you?”. The piece begins to move from the letter A to the letter Z and then back to the letter A returning back to the Z. Over and over until she says again “AND OFF”. Confused, I look at her wondering what I did wrong this time. She informs me that the spirit on the board is one that continually harasses her while using the board. “His name is AZ. He’s a vampire. He uses the name AZ because those two letters represent the beginning and the end”. Holy Cow! A ouija stalker? She then tells me that we can try a couple more times but if he continues, we’ll have to call it off. I have to tell you, I’m enthralled at this point. “Bull! I want to talk to him!” “No” she replies. I curl my lip and tell her (on the inside) that if she kills my fun, she will get none of this grade-a booty from me later. We begin again.
No AZ this time but instead we get a woman named Anna. Anna was apparently from Boston. I found this odd because at the time, I was living in Boston (my girl lived in Birmingham, AL and I was at her place for the weekend) and this spirit was from Boston also. I ask her when she was alive which made her spell out “A-B-E”. I assume she’s talking about Abe Lincoln so I ask her if she voted for him. She spells “N-O”. I ask her why and the planchette goes dead (pardon the pun). I think I offended her because I didn’t even stop to think that women weren’t allowed to vote during Abe’s time so she must have been sensitive about that. Let it be known to all men right now that you cannot escape a woman’s moodiness in death. PMS must also stand for “Poltergeist Moody Syndrome” also. I own my own Ouija board that glows in the dark. Since buying it I’ve never been able to make it work like that night in Birmingham. One night I was so confident it would work, I bet my neighbors next door that I would streak the neighborhood if it didn’t work. An hour later, I’m dashing through my own front yard wearing nothing but a band-aid on my arm. That’s what I get for talking trash. I suppose Anna went back and told her friends that I was a jerk because since then, the line has been cold. I can’t even get AZ the stalking vampire to talk. I’d still like to take the board to a cemetery one night and see what kind of activity I can get out of it. Then again, maybe I should get a life and talk to the living more often. Maybe this is why I’m single. Maybe I should go call my Mommy. |
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Mandy, Trina, Mertz and I went to the RoundRock Express game on Thursday. It was "Thirsty Thursday" so beer was half off. Interestingly, since it was half off beer, they purposely didn't serve any bottled beer. I guess it makes more sense business wise to sell draft beer at half price than selling bottled beer with that discount.
I'm a dirty pig because I ate a funnel cake and it got all over me. Powdered sugar never stays put. You'll see what I mean from the pics below. Three of the pics are "animated."
ANIMATED!
ANIMATED!
Disgusting funnel pants
.
ANIMATED! finger licking good
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So I snore. Apparently, I snore a lot
and loudly. My ex gf said I snored so much that she couldn't sleep
with me. I thought she was just being a sensitive baby because she
could never hear her alarm clock. It would buzz for quite a while
before I would wake her ass up. I don't know how that works.
That whole argument came about because
she kept telling I kept her up at night. I didn't believe her
because her freaking alarm clock was loud as hell and it wouldn't
wake her up in the morning .So she taped me one night to show me how
loud I am. Even so, I still find it hard to believe that she can
sleep through a loud ass alarm or the TV blared up all the way yet
my snoring bothers her. I thought she was just being a baby at the
time |
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For my first blog I figured I’d keep it simple. Check out this news article:
Original link: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/25346676/
Quote:
That’s actually pretty incredible. Is this muscle ever flexed by accident? How quickly does it heal? What are the risks of infection once pierced? I really want to know the answers to these questions, because one day, I’d like to be able to stab someone with my kneecaps.
Since this blog has an evolutionary theme and Tom’s blog has a motivational cartoon music vid, I thought I’d link the two together with my all-time favorite Pearl Jam music video.
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This video and this song is baaaaddddassssss. I love it! It gives me chills. Mandy pointed out this song to me when it was playing on her Sirius radio.
If that video gets removed you can see it by going to this link |
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As you may have noticed, I have two new bloggers to tommybear.com that sometimes contribute. Simon wrote 1 new blog but I have been reposting his old blogs lately for those of you that never read them on Myspace and also to give him time to be inspired about writing new ones. My old pal from my consulting days, Darin, has also been contributing. I like having multiple bloggers on this site. I feel like it brings in a more diverse group group of readers and makes the site more well rounded.
After a year of blogging at least 4 times or more a week for a year, many of you are probably sick of my stories. Although John Kelso of the Austin American Statesman has probably done it for decades and yet he's still in print. I find him terribly boring.
The point is I like the idea of bringing in fresh perspectives and maybe fresh pictures from a different point of view. I also feel like this would drum up the readership.
Here are the benefits of posting your blog on tommybear.com instead of some free blogging site.
1. You already have a base of readers (as small as that might be but that could grow because of you) 2. It's less complicated to just send your blogs and pictures to me to post rather than trying to figure these things out on your own. 3. Won't cost you a thing.
Here's another incentive. If you send me 20 or more good blogs (by my judgement and that I use) over any period of time, I'll give you a tommybear.com t-shirt (yet to be designed.) Wow! What a deal! Send you blogs now to tomdo98@aol.com. |
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Last night I had a dream that there was a major gas shortage and I was walking in this world that was on the cusp of being a wasteland like the movie, "Road Warrior." I guess dreams like that will eventually arise when you watch CNN headline news everyday and every day they give you an update about how gas went up 2 cents.
Coincidentally, my gas light was on and I had to fill up my car this morning. I noticed something unusual when I opened my gas panel and I'm not sure what it means if anything at all. My gas cap was loose. My first thought was, "Did someone siphon my gas?" Another thought brought on by watching too much headline news because I saw a story once about different gas crimes. I was basically out of gas yesterday and I always reset my trip odometer every time I fill up. I got my normal 335 or so miles so if they did siphon something, they only siphoned a few drops. Nah. That didn't happen. I must have just left it loose during my last fill up. |
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I'm not the typical guy when it comes to
some things. For instance, I rarely watch porn, nor do I own a
library of porn. It doesn't do that much for me. One time, I helped
my friend move and half the stuff we moved was porn! A few years
ago, I lived in a house with a couple of guys and we had 2 tv's set
up side by side in the living room. One tv was dedicated to porn
24-7 and the other tv was for normal viewing. I got a little sick of
it. I tried to get them to turn the porn off but they insisted on
keeping it on. That has to affect you somehow. I don't know. |
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When I heard John Graziano had a hole in his head, I imagined a hole maybe the size of a plum. Orange max. For those of you who haven't heard, John Graziano is Hulk Hogan's son's (Nick) friend who was gravely injured as a passenger when Nick was driving drunk and extremely fast.
Saying he has a hole in his head is an understatement. He basically has a large chunk of his head missing. For anyone to be doing anything to keep his shell of a body alive completely astonishes me. This isn't like maybe one day he'll wake up from his coma or maybe one day he'll smile at me and talk again, this is like a headless body animated with robotics.
I couldn't even embed the youtube because the first image alone is so horrifying. Don't watch it if your squeamish.
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I'm sitting at work last week and my Dad calls. Since I have caller ID and I wasn't in the mood, I let it go to voicemail. He's been pretty bored since his car accident because he doesn't have a car during the day right now. He spends a lot of time at home hitting golf balls against a wood fence in the backyard. I listen to the voicemail and he says, "Call me back. I have an emergency." I'm thinking damn, I hope it's not his heart or something. I called and it turns out he was hitting golf balls against a wood fence and someone in the neighborhood mistook it for gunshots. They called the police. Four police cars show up and ask if everything is OK. They asked to search the house and after my Dad told them about hitting golf balls in the backyard, they said, "Carry on" and left. That's entertaining and all but he needs to learn the definition of "emergency". That's a funny story, not an emergency. I rolled my eyes and felt like hanging up. |
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I heard on CNN Headline News today that they played Thunder Road by Bruce Springsteen at Tim Russert's funeral because Russert was a huge fan. I decided to check out the boss on YouTube and found this fantastic live version. Sometimes I don't like live versions because the artist changes the song around a lot (Bruce actually did a really weird version on VH1's Storytellers) but this one is fantastic.
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Can you believe Tommybear.com is about 17 months old? In honor of this passing thought, I updated everyone's headshot to a more recent picture. I mean, c'mon. Dae doesn't have his pony tail anymore. Paula and Robb are no longer blondes. And Todd grew a mustache! |
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I’ve been in about a million emergency rooms: Taylor, Round Rock, Brackenridge, Seton NW, St. Davids, South Austin, New Braunfels, Georgetown plus numerous clinics to name a few. When you date a person addicted to painkillers, you tend to visit a lot of ER’s because she is seeking pain meds. As for me, I rarely take pills and wasn’t even aware that people get addicted to prescription drugs. For some reason, I thought she just had bad luck. In hindsight, I was very naïve of course. Anyway, that was a long time ago. I only mention it because I had to visit an ER for the first time in my life for myself last week.
So it’s Friday night and I lie down to go to bed and I feel a sharp pain in my groin. It hurt but I ignored it and went to sleep. I woke up the next morning and it’s hurting pretty bad. I’m thinking should I go to the Dr? Who would I see on a Saturday anyway? It sounds like a lot of trouble so I ignore it. I decide to ride my bike and see if it bothers me. If it bothers me, I’ll stop and go find a Dr or clinic to figure out what it is. It doesn’t bother me so I end up pedaling about 20 miles. It doesn’t really bother me much until later that night. It hurts so bad that I can’t even sleep on my stomach. I start looking online and I’m thinking maybe I have a hernia and I need surgery to correct it. It’s really depressing thinking you gave yourself a hernia climbing into bed. Seriously, who does that? Anyway, the pain is bad so I decide I better get this checked out because I can’t wait until Monday. I end up going to the emergency room at 2:30 AM on Saturday. It sucked. I waited 2 hours to see a Dr. He stuck his finger somewhere it didn’t belong and asked me if it hurt. It did hurt, a lot. He orders a urine test and I’m don’t get home until 7:30 AM. All is fine. I strained my groin muscle. At least it wasn’t a hernia. |
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Yep. I’m pretty sure I’m going bald. My father’s wife’s grandmother’s son is bald also, which guides my destiny whether I’m a willing participant or not. I should be grateful; I’ve made it 40 years with really thick hair and I’ll probably still have a good amount of hair until I’m 45 or maybe even 50. Yet I’m not. My vanity is making me stare at the thinning areas longer than I should. I’ve even considered trying Rogaine but like the single pack buying smoker who won’t buy a carton, doing so would be an admission that I’m not willing to make. I wonder what I’ll look like when I’m bald? I do know that I have a strangely, large head. It’s shaped a little like an old-style light bulb (not the pretzel bulbs you buy now) which is thin at the chin, makes a straight line to my ears, and then balloons like a nuclear bomb induced mushroom cloud to the top. Imagine if Ziggy and Beaker (from the Muppet Show) had a baby – which would explain the vanity because I’m sure Ziggy would have issues with Beaker screaming “ME ME ME ME ME ME” during sex all the time. If I am vain, I won’t miss it. Vanity has probably cost me some wonderful relationships in my life. Physical changes are part of growing older and everyone will go through it. I think that’s why old people dress any way they please because once you’re free of worrying about how you look, you loosen up and your personality finally comes through. I guess I’ll know it’s near when I find myself watching The Weather Channel for entertainment purposes instead of watching to find out what I’ll wear to work the next day. I think I’ll skip the Rogaine and just let these changes happen. It’s pointless to fight it. If I allow myself to age, I will still be able to pass judgment on people like Burt Reynolds who have butchered themselves beyond recognition trying to hold on to the glory days. Maybe I’m just paranoid. I wonder if it’s making my hair fall out? |
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I'm doing this thing recently where I look up a song I like on Youtube by the original artist then I watch people do covers in their living room. I think I like watching the rooks for the same reason I like watching karaoke.
Here is Wreckless Eric's Whole Wide World (you might remember Will Farrell singing this in Stranger than Fiction) and then a bunch of rooks giving it a try.
I believe this is the original artist
she's not lip syncing is she?
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I was thinking about switching to a new martial art:
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I have so many addictions and weird
habits. I guess you could call them addictions. Some of my old
addictions are drinking 6-10 cokes a day and sports gambling. I
don't do those anymore. |
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He's no longer rocking the gray goat.
after
befores
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Last week I went to Dallas to visit my family. For those of you who don't know, my Mom dabbles in the AM radio, Satellite channel business. That means that she's partners with some people who run and own AM 890 in Dallas and she's an affiliate to a satellite station which contributes about an hour a day. They're both completely in Vietnamese of course. She plays anchor on the satellite channel and she's a radio personality on 890 AM. My dad helps with video editing and filming and things like that. They both have day jobs too.
So I went to Dallas last weekend because my mom's businesses were hosting this event that was a beauty pageant slash singing competition slash concert.
I've been to a couple of these things and they seem to always set up the concert portions the same way. They would always have just a ton of different singers singing just 1 or 2 songs. It seems a lot less cost efficient than just concentrating on a few singers but I guess it's their version of Lollapalooza. Even though I could only understand about 30% of what was going on, I thought it was a very good show. I didn't really understand most of the singers but you could really tell what a pro they were. I guess when you have a good voice it transcends languages. The three finalists in the singing competition were just so so to me compared to the pros that sang. Mixed in with all that was a beauty pageant. I really liked the transposing of the singers with the pageant events. For example, while they're parading around doing their nightgown bit, a professional singer is singing at the front of the stage.
With all of the activities that were going on, it was a very long show at about 4 hours. Even so, the mix of the pros with the drama of a pageant proved to be very entertaining.
Oh yeah. I also met my Mom's new dog Coco. Sweet, but right now he's a bit yappy and a biter.
pageant winner
Mandy and I taking in the show.
Mandy with Coco the dog
just Coco |
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Last night I was hanging with what I hope to be my newest friend in Atlanta and we had a great time getting to know one another. At the end of the evening, I walked her to her car and instead of making me walk back to the subway, she offered a ride to the stop. Before we did so, we spontaneously decided to ride to the top of the parking garage to take a picture or two of the Atlanta skyline. While up there, I decided to hop up on the wall and sit. Behind me was an eight-story drop to the concrete below. She seemed a bit nervous about it prompting me to reassure her that the wall thickness was ample enough for my tight, muscled backside (writers are allowed creative fiction so back off). When finished we got back in the car and she politely escorted me back to the train.
As I stood waiting for the train to arrive, my brain went to work as I started to think about sitting on that wall. We’d had a few beers and although I felt fairly straight, I suspect to the sober soul I probably was not. I then began to fantasize about being on that wall and possibly throwing my head back in laughter and losing my balance. I pictured that heart-stopping moment as I leaned back too far and felt gravity take over. I could see the panicked look in my eye and seeing my friend startle and move toward me with her hands out to catch my already extended arms already grabbing for that safety rope that wasn’t there. Our fingers touch allowing me to transfer my wide-eyed gasp to her as she realized that she couldn’t hold me. I can hear the scrape of my jeans on the cement as I make one final attempt to save myself by tightening the bend behind me knees against the wall to no avail. As I fall, my daughters face is all I can see as I wait for the inevitable impact of my lower back smacking the ground only milliseconds before my head.
Depressing thought isn’t it?
This lead me to thinking about all of those “Holy S%$#t” moments I’ve had in my life. We’ve all had them; those memories burned into our mental filing cabinets that make us wonder how we made it this far. Here’s a couple of mine:
I know that sitting on that ledge last night was perfectly safe. I also know that I analyze things way too much. Heck, if I didn’t think too much how in the world could I write this much in 15 minutes? The one benefit of getting older is you gain wisdom while you accumulate memories such as these. I’m glad I waited until I was 37 to have a child. The odds are so much better that Lex will have a Dad over the long term then she would have if I would have had her at 22. Life is good. |
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Thanks to a blog, an almost carjacking,
and life changing events by multiple persons, a new friendship is
possibly being hatched tonight in Peachtree City. Thanks to the
Memorial Day adventure I had a few weeks ago, Tommy told me about a
friend who had recently moved to Atlanta for a new job. Thanks to
Facebook, she and I established contact and were each able to
assess whether either of us was interesting enough to drink beer
with. After speaking on the phone last night, we've decided to give
it a go. We are both going to take our cameras to capture the moment
for everyone in Austin. This will be my first "blogger meets reader
for the first time" experience so I hope she isn't too star struck
when I walk into the bar. If my mere blog brain doesn't really wow
her, I'll resort to showing her my http://www.tommybear.com tattoos
I've recently had inked on my outer legs (well, on one leg it says
"Ask me about" and the hyperlink is on the other leg). Since they
stretch all the way from my ankles to my hips, I'll go ahead and
wear my vintage Boston Celtics uniform (#33) in honor of the NBA
Finals. It even comes with matching head band and tube socks. |
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One of the funniest bits I've ever seen in the karaoke bar, Common Interest, is a guy sang Monster Mash. That's right, the MONSTER MASH in like February. That's like someone singing Grandma Got Run Over By a Reindeer in June This isn't that guy but it's a funny twangy version of it that's actually a video reply to some really corny Halloween video.
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I think I really like this song now just because of that scene that was in Dan in Real Life.
Great live Pete Townshend version
Dane Cook and Steve Carrell
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There isn't anything wrong with tattoos. I have like 3 dumb ones. This guy I added on Myspace that I went to high school with sends out bulletins every time he gets a new tattoo. The thing that kind of makes me nervous is that he's constantly sending these updates out. He's going from just a few tattoos to I don't know how far. The tattoos he's getting are also very bright and ornate and extremely high quality. I wonder if he's going for the full bodied variety.
I would think that you get a few, see how they ride, and then get some more. But then again, I got all mine pretty close to the same time. It is kind of weird how there's an addiction to get more tattoos right after you get one but if you leave enough of a gap in time, it eventually goes away.
I also have no idea if he ever looks at this blog. You out there, Jeff?
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Man working out is such a pain in the
arse as you get older. I'm right at 6 ft and I weigh 170 right now
(175-180 on a bad day). It's weird because I have never worried
about my weight or anything health-related until a couple of years
ago. |
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I used to love it that people couldn't guess my age when I was in my 20s. People would guess across the board but it was generally low. I think part of was it due to the fact that I worked with people who were on average older than I was. I figured I would look young for a very long time. Apparently HEB cashiers don't feel the same way. Just yesterday I bought some wine and the cashier looked at me and typed 11111111 in the input box on their terminal that said "date of birth." You know 11111111 as in month/day/year because it's so ridiculous to card me because I'm clearly over 30.
I guess that's still better than Simon, Dae, Thang and I standing in line to get carded at the Isle of Capri casino and having the checker guy wave off Thang and have a look on his face like he was so disgusted that Thang was wasting his time by waiting in line to get verified that he was over 21. |
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We won 5-2.
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I never understood why I got "gnats" whenever I had bananas for too long. I thought maybe the gnats got a whiff of those sweet bananas and snuck in my house when I opened and closed the doors or something but that explanation didn't seem quite right. How exactly were these bananas birthing gnats? I Googled gnats and bananas and found out that those aren't gnats at all.
Apparently, sometime during the life of the banana, fruit flies got to them and laid eggs on them. These eggs sometimes hatch when said bananas are in your house. So those aren't gnats, they're tiny little fruit flies. Gross! |
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I drove in to Dallas last Friday night
and my Dad had a million questions about the computer the minute I
walked in. Again with the pop-up blocker. I wanted to stab my eye
with a spoon.
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So I have to share this experience I’ve just had with the IRS. Due to getting divorced and not being able to claim my daughter on my taxes last year (in our divorce decree it states that my then wife gets to deduct Lex on the odd years and I get the even years), I ended up owing the IRS. Naturally, I don’t find out that I owe this money until I complete my taxes online using Turbotax back in April. Once I finished everything, the printer belched out all of the appropriate forms that needed to be sent away to Uncle Sam. To my surprise, at the end of the myriad of papers, the printer spit out four pages of payment vouchers which would allow me to break the total into four quarterly payments. Oh rejoice! I placed my first of four checks into the envelope, stamped it, and out it went. To be sure I didn’t forget to send the rest of the payments in, I sealed three more checks into envelopes, addressed them, and wrote the mail by date on the back and placed them on the fridge for delivery later. I sent my second payment in just last week so in my mind there were two down and two to go.
Last Saturday I receive a letter and my heart skips a beat when I see that logo of fear in the top left corner of the envelope. My first impulse is that I’m being audited but soon learn that the IRS is demanding full payment and that I am being charged both interest and penalties for not paying on-time. As I read further, I see that the interest being charged is on the full amount of what I owe. Now wait a minute! I sent in a payment that I would have to say was substantially more than $1 back in April; where’s my credit on that? Obviously there has been some sort of mistake.
Monday, I call the IRS. I’m almost tempted to go find them since I’m here in Atlanta and they are also but I think the temperature in Atlanta yesterday was about 167 degrees and there was no way I was leaving the comfort of the air conditioning to go discuss a tax bill. So I call and wait on hold for 30 minutes until I get a human on the phone. Said human then opens my account and tells me that he knows what “I” (being me) did wrong. The two payments sent in did not go against my current tax bill but are instead being used as future tax payments for NEXT YEAR. Now tell me please why on God’s green marble would TurboTax print these vouchers for me during the processing of my 2007 tax forms to pay in advance on taxes for 2008? The voice on the phone then tells me I have no recourse except to be sure to claim the excess payments next year as they cannot put it on my 2007 bill. So now, not only do I have to pay the tax bill in full, I also have to let the IRS keep my money (fine – I’ll tell you = $571*2= $1142) for an entire year! No, I’m not happy. It hurts to make a mistake that big; especially when the dollar is deflating faster than a beach ball with a machete handle. The only upside to all of this is I should get a huge return of my money next year since I get this overpayment back in addition to being able to claim my daughter for this tax year. It’s not much upside because I’ve never thought a refund from the IRS was a good thing. I hate giving anyone my money without earning interest – especially in today’s climate.
One last thing I should mention; the last thing the voice on the phone asked me was if I would like to pay my tax bill on a payment schedule. Oh the irony. |
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This is old news but for all of you that missed it...
A Minnesota minor league baseball team gave the Larry Craig bobble feet to the first 2500 fans. The right foot is spring loaded and is poised and ready to give a "signal."
For those of you who have been trapped under a rock, Larry Craig was the senator that was caught in the Minnesota St Paul airport bathroom giving the signal of "wishing to engage in lewd conduct" when he tapped his foot and moved it progressively closer to a plain clothed officer until he eventually touched him. Craig then swiped his hand under the stall a few times at which the point the officer showed his badge underneath the stall in the same manner.
Craig pleaded guilty to the misdemeanor and then tried to take it back later by saying he "had a wide stance."
For more details: http://www.rollcall.com/news/breakingnews/19763-1.html
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The first time I saw the ocean was about
10 years ago, if you can count going to the Texas coast. Since then,
my friends and I have made it a yearly tradition although we haven't
gone in the past few years. We're going again in August to fish and
crab. It reminds me of the first time I went and what a horrible
time I had. | ||||
by Tommybear
by Darin Southard
by Simon Park
by Chris Ward
