You know what’s crazy? I’ll tell you what’s crazy™
Whiners.
Whiners are sniveling, complaining little pods of negativity.
Whiners are the dried ketchup of humanity, stuck to the lid of the bottle.
They are rubbery and inedible and gross.
Whiners are as welcome as a mucous filled cough that attempts to dislodge a beaver dam of sickness.
Today whine is courtesy of Martha.
I don’t know Martha. I will never meet Martha.
All I can say to Martha is ;shut the F up!
Please. Just shut up.
Please, Martha, take all your angst, your counter-intuitive logic, your negative filibuster, and walk it off.
Act like a little leaguer and rub some dirt on your fractured psyche.
Find something positive, more dynamic to occupy your time.
Hey Martha, do what you do, but please don’t call me with your inane banter, your insane manifestations of what is right and wrong, with the IRS.
THE IRS!!
Yeah, I get it.
The IRS is a problem like an asteroid hurtling toward Earth is a problem.
I get it.
It’s the G-D IRS.
Do you really expect the IRS to be fast, to be cordial, to be convenient?
Do you expect Brad Pitt to send you flowers for Valentines day too?
Martha called me the other day and goes on a 10 minute voice recorded rant about the IRS.
And she starts this rambling rant with a lie.
“I will be brief,” she says, her lips blowing through that sentence like a bull dozer turning over fresh dirt in a landfill.
“I have a problem with the IRS today,” she drones on. “You know it is tax season and I called the 800 number to order forms to be mailed to my home and I was told by a representative and a supervisor that the 1040 EZ form is not available and They don’t know when it will be available.”
I am listening to this rambling complaint on my iphone in the car.
I look at my photographer as we drive to a story.
“People are stupid,” I say.
Martha continues to whine on about the imperfections of the IRS.
“It’s a bureaucratic belch,” I say aloud.
The IRS is effective as a paper towel umbrella. It’s less friendly than a naked Sherpa.They’re the damned IRS. It’s what they do.”
“They said anyone who has called to order the 1040 form, which is an extremely common form, I might add, Well nobody has gotten the form yet. I have written down the info and I think that it is the height of incompetence.”
I google IRS form 1040 on my smart phone.
In the time it takes a rabbit to consummate a sexual act, the form appears on my screen.
“What is she bitching about?” I say showing my screen to my photographer.
“Google the form and then print it. Who the hell needs a monolithic bureaucracy to snail mail anything to anyone.”
“Here’s the phone number. 1-800 829 3676.”
As if that is not enough, she repeats the number and then tells me that some people don’t have the internet, or don’t get out much, or don’t want to file on-line.
Yeah and some people can’t tie their shoes, recite the pledge of allegiance or tell me who the vice president of the USA is.
I delete her recording in mid-sentence.
“I don’t have time for whiners,” I say.
If you can’t figure out how to get a 1040 EZ form, then I can’t imagine you know how to fill it out either.
“Next,” I shout as I listen to another voice mail.
Just another day in the life of a guy who has to listen to a lot of whining.
Life’s Crazy™