I was going to do my taxes tonight. I was, I swear. For the last few weeks I’ve been looking the small stack of W-2 forms on my desk and just shaking my head. “Later,” I’d tell myself, smiling like a child who has no clue where the last cookie went. And Friday, March 5^th, was supposed to be the day that the taxes get did. You know, so that the government can keep on doing all sorts of great stuff.

But it’s 10PM and it doesn’t look like the Taxman’s come to town. And I’m not laying my money down. In fact, I’m doing what most Americans do when they’re avoiding paying taxes — drinking fine malt liquor.

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