Advice for Having A Sexy Tax Season

The first time I laid eyes on a beautiful tax form, specifically the W2, I knew I wanted to be more than friends with proof of benefits. I wanted to devote my life to taxes as an accountant, and if I’m being honest, I desired to make an additional child tax credit with them. No part of me wanted to take this slow. I yearned to report accelerated depreciation.

 

Now I have 23 years of experience doing taxes and men often write to me asking “how can I do my taxes better?” The truth is taxes aren’t about doing it hard and fast like Turbo Tax would have you believe. Doing your taxes should be a slow and sensual experience.

 

I personally can’t forget about the beautiful fortnight I first shared with the Tax Season of 1996. Sure, I had seen taxes in Hollywood movies, but I had never seen taxes in the flesh. I hadn’t held a tax form close.

 

What most men don’t realize is that taxes are my, oh my, so very naughty. Who doesn’t get excited with all that math! Adding field A to B. Subtracting D from C. The exhilaration is amplified knowing that if you do the math wrong, or make even a simple clerical error, you could go to jail.

 

But as your relationship with taxes becomes increasingly intimate, you’ll learn that a tax season is as fickle as it is naughty. After you mail in your taxes you may never see that tax season again. I advise you to move on with your life.

 

Lord knows I should have moved on from Tax Season of 1996, and dammit, I tried. I courted Tax Season of 1997 and ‘98, and in grad school, I experimented with Tax Season of 1999. None of them could match that high from my first love.

 

Nevertheless, I implore you to get over it. Without our first tax season, we are all depressed. You’ll want to relive in your memories your first tax season’s gentle caresses, their tears, and their affectionate solicitude. Their memories will kindle a continually burning flame in your nether regions.

 

In time you’ll find things you love about future tax seasons. Like the thrill of deciding if you can write off that old t-shirt, you gave Goodwill. Oh, the joys of new love will abound! You’ll exuberantly ask yourself “is this new account payable or receivable?”

 

Who am I kidding? My beloved Tax Season of 1996, if you’re listening give me one more chance! Let me amend my return. Dammit, I know I have damages to report. Who doesn’t? But permit me to love you in spite of my faults.

 

My dear reader, if you only take one lesson on how to have a sexy tax season let it be to treat each and every tax season as if they are “the one”. Because they just might be. Oh, and before you mail your taxes don’t forget to fuck them.