- Is anyone else already utterly over the Royal Wedding?
- When the Zadge bought Old Vicky, the house came with a washer and dryer that are apparently as old as Old Vicky herself because in order to dry a normal load of laundry, the Zadge must run the dryer for TWO HOURS! So the Zadge must buy a new dryer, and probably a new washer. So my peeps, tell me what kind to buy! (And while the Zadge would prefer a top loader, the washer has to be a front loader no taller than 36 inches because of a shelf the machines have to fit under.)
- The Zadge was excited to go out Saturday night with her gal pal The Chilean. Unfortunately, as she walked out the door to get in the cab to meet The Chilean, she opened up her mailbox and found this muther-f%#ker:WHAT?!!! I have to pay the District of Columbia $16,000, for taxes owed in 2009, a year I DIDN’T EVEN F-ING LIVE IN THE DAMN CITY???? What’s a girl to do? Well, this girl decided she was going to drink too many Pomegranate Martinis with The Chilean and her cute beau, Wayne Gretsky, in his uber-cool downtown loft and worry about D.C. seizing her assets on Sunday.
- So the Zadge wakes up Sunday morning, if you consider 11 o’clock still the morning, and discovers that all that hype about Pomegranate juice being the latest miracle anti-oxidant/feel good/health thingy is a bunch of crock. She’s sure the vodka mixed with it had nothing to do with the fuzzy head/eyeball hurt she felt. She got up and took one look at the FREAKIN’ SIXTEEN THOUSAND DOLLAR IMPENDING TAX LIEN and almost wretched. Again, couldn’t be the vodka’s fault. What’s a girl to do? Well, this girl decided to worry about the Nation’s Capitol seizing all her assets on Monday and hit the spa instead.
- Yes, the Zadge spent three hours at the Woodhouse Spa in Denver, getting an 80 minute deep tissue massage and an organic sugar scrub pedicure. With free mimosas. All thanks to Moomskers, who surprised the Zadge with a gift certificate for a day of pampering! LOVE YOU MOOMSKERS!
- Okay, so Monday rolls around and the Zadge now is sober, stretched and shined and she must face the $16,000 albatross hanging around her neck. Do you know what that means? The Zadge had to deal with the D.C. Government on the phone. You unlucky souls who live in D.C. know of what I speak. Two and a half hours of my day were sucked away sitting on hold for 29 minutes and 14 seconds (I kid you not), only then to have to deal with four different hostile and dumbass city employees before I could even get an explanation about why – two years later and out of the blue — I get a Notice claiming I owe income taxes to a city in which I no longer make any income!
- So maybe this isn’t really a “Monday Musings” post, but more of a “Oh My God, this erroneous Tax Lien just makes me remember how much I hate D.C. and I’m so glad I escaped and I’ll never go back” post.
- The long and short of it is that the Zadge in fact does not owe the utterly broken D.C. government, led by Marion “the Bitch set me up” Barry, any money at all! The Zadge thinks she will send its crack-addicted, tax defrauding, prostitute-loving nut job leader a bill for her time in dealing with this crap.
- The Zadge’s online dating travails continue. Several more suitors have expressed interest, including a 50-year old guy with a very receding line of gray hair, but a really pretty and skinny long gray mullet in the back.
- And speaking of taxes, the Zadge unexpectedly got a very large tax refund this year. She immediately put it all into savings. Except for that pit stop on the way to the bank where she bought this:Just call me Princess Di Scaly Hands.
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