Death and taxes

I started my taxes early this year: 8:30 PM, April 15th. It seems that no matter how much finagling I do these days I always end up owing a little money; a consequence, I suppose, of my assorted nefarious doings. Well, no one ever said world domination would be tax-free.

NLP even got its very own Schedule C. I briefly considered deducting the cost of condoms, lube and ten-dollar martinis, but decided it would be wise to avoid a visit from my friendly neighborhood auditor. Despite my idle fantasies, I really doubt the IRS employs sexy little auditrixes who use whips and chains to “punish” the bad boys and girls.

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Met Art

Reprise

Les and Bianca

Les and Bianca

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In the Waiting Line

Judging by the number of emails I’ve been getting lately, at least a few of you out there have missed me. Well, not blogging is the new blogging, they say; I’m just trying to keep up with the cool kids. I do thank you for your kind words of encouragement, and I do read everything, even if I don’t always have the chance to respond.

What can I say? Winter was a real grind this year. Normal, quotidian existence was keeping me busy and neither Les nor I had much interest in entertaining sweet young things. Last year was frenzied from start to finish—really, the last two years have been frenzied—and you just can’t carry on like that without stopping to screw your head on straight again. But spring is here now and we do have a comfortable new bed, so maybe, just maybe…

Baby steps.

I do miss typing stuff into the internet, so I think I’ll stick around for a while.

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Abby Winters

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