I hate April 15th.

So, it's that lovely time of year again. Nope, I'm not talking about the lovely days of spring or summer. Nope, I'm not talking about Easter. Although Easter is at the same time this year (which is really spooky if you ask me).

I'm talking about that God awful, downright mean, makes me want to puke my lunch, tax day.

Geez I hate it.

And no matter what, it never goes away. So, I start feeling the stress, the anger of having to give up my hard earned dollars, and the wonderment of seeing it all go to waste by the government.

"Here's my money Mr. Bush. Would you like me to flush it down the toilet for you or will you just do that yourself?"

Last year, I was stupid. I thought since I had tax turbo I could wait until the last minute. And the last minute I did wait. At approximately 10:45 pm on April 14, 2005, I found out that, although I already gave the good ol' U.S. of A a HUGE chunk of my change over the year, that I still owed a huge chunk more. So after Mr. Bean mopped me off the floor, picked my jaw off of the ground, rolled my tongue back into my mouth and put my heart and stomach back in my body, I paid to the good ol' boys the money I was saving for a rainy day. Or a nuclear blast.

Not this year. This year, I'm going to find out the horrifying results early. So if you hear a horrible, primal scream of rage, fear, paranoia and insanity this weekend, just know it was me.