Oh, this is an outrage.
Right, so my accountant (actually my Dad's accountant) has made it very easy for Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs. They've said, "look, our client was clearly not earning enough in 2005 or 2006 to be liable for tax, so give her back the entire amount she has paid in those years." And the cunts are refusing to pay until they have complete dates and a complete set of P60s / P45s from all of the 792 different companies I have worked for since leaving university four years ago. Presumably they think I have a source of income I'm not telling them about. "No, you cunting fuckweeds, I really have existed for almost half a decade on less than 5,000 per annum, NO SHIT."
It's an outrage.
Anyway, I've been promoted at ballet. Classes started again this week and I swung on back to the Beginners group; I assumed others from last term's class would do the same. The body doesn't allow me to bend and stretch like the hell-demon who teaches us thinks it ought, and I figured that I'd do another term's worth of beginner's ballet before laying waste to myself at the next level. Well, the very same hell-demon made it very clear to me she wouldn't accept seeing me in another of these classes. I must progress forthwith to the Intermediate/Advanced level!
She said, "it's a different class each week, I sort of adapt it to who's there, normally it's inter-advanced, but either way it'll be perfect for you."
Well, you can imagine I said:
Oh: stolen from Dylan's journals: my favourite snippet of overheard conversation this week. One dude outside the swimming pool saying to another, "you can beat an egg. But you can't beat a good wank."
And on that note, enjoy your evening.
Right, so my accountant (actually my Dad's accountant) has made it very easy for Her Majesty's Revenue & Customs. They've said, "look, our client was clearly not earning enough in 2005 or 2006 to be liable for tax, so give her back the entire amount she has paid in those years." And the cunts are refusing to pay until they have complete dates and a complete set of P60s / P45s from all of the 792 different companies I have worked for since leaving university four years ago. Presumably they think I have a source of income I'm not telling them about. "No, you cunting fuckweeds, I really have existed for almost half a decade on less than 5,000 per annum, NO SHIT."
It's an outrage.
Anyway, I've been promoted at ballet. Classes started again this week and I swung on back to the Beginners group; I assumed others from last term's class would do the same. The body doesn't allow me to bend and stretch like the hell-demon who teaches us thinks it ought, and I figured that I'd do another term's worth of beginner's ballet before laying waste to myself at the next level. Well, the very same hell-demon made it very clear to me she wouldn't accept seeing me in another of these classes. I must progress forthwith to the Intermediate/Advanced level!
She said, "it's a different class each week, I sort of adapt it to who's there, normally it's inter-advanced, but either way it'll be perfect for you."
Well, you can imagine I said:
Oh: stolen from Dylan's journals: my favourite snippet of overheard conversation this week. One dude outside the swimming pool saying to another, "you can beat an egg. But you can't beat a good wank."
And on that note, enjoy your evening.
VIEW 7 of 7 COMMENTS
deleteddelete:
It's not really - it's a bit rubbish.
stewhimself:
My colleague spent most of the afternoon looking for a Jewish person, we should get those two together!