I want to make it perfectly clear that I am not paranoid, but it seems to me that we Americans have an idiot-related crisis on our hands. I.R.S. agents are everywhere! They are in our homes. They are in our offices. I'm pretty sure that last night I saw one peeping through my kitchen window. It's amazing that I am not paranoid, because I found evidence the other day that they had been out sifting through my compost pile. Some days I have seen them behind the car seat, under
the refrigerator, at the office, in movie theaters, and behind the shower curtain. All paranoia aside, I could swear that I even saw one the other day who was actually using my old golf clubs.
On any given non-holiday, my house is almost completely full of thousands of faithful public servants who are trying their darndest to help me sort out the confusion about some of my assets that I have received bad information about. I am deeply grateful for their efforts. It turns out that there have been quite a few things that I thought were mine, and that I had actually planned to use, which now belong to the federal government. Can you imagine my embarrassment?
This work that these agents are doing is an important public service, and while I deeply appreciate it, I have to admit that having so many of them around at times can get a little irritating. Many of them have their hand out, and I don't think that I'm being paranoid when I observe that some of them have been known to actually try to take some of my stuff without even asking.
Personally, I don't have as much of a problem with this as some people because I'm not at all paranoid, and besides, I'm pretty much used to this kind of abuse. I am married and have children. But for many Americans, the constant pressure being applied by this vast army of dedicated public servants is the most stressful issue that they must deal with in their lives; and they are not happy campers. It is primarily for the benefit of these people, and to show that I am clearly not paranoid, that I have written this.
For those of you who don't know me, I am a civic-minded, patriotic individual who is definitely not paranoid. Not long ago I wanted to do something to help my country and so late one evening, after I had finished scraping my important financial documents off from the bottom of the bird cage and re-assembling them so I would be ready for my daily series of I.R.S. audits, I took some time out and went to work on this problem. I wanted to see if I could dig up some information about why there seem to me, a typical non-paranoid American citizen, to be so many I.R.S. agents. My research led me to discover some alarming things. But, since some of the things I found out, if misunderstood, could harm innocent people (namely me if something should accidentally offend or irritate any of these I.R.S. agents) I need to proceed cautiously by first taking a look at what I believe to be the heart of the issue.
Lest any one misunderstand me, I discovered that the problem is not that the I.R.S. agents aren't fine people, and it's not that they aren't performing an important and worthwhile service. The problem is simply that there are in fact upwards of three hundred times as many competent, dedicated, and conscientious agents attempting to collect taxes as there currently are actual tax payers. Amazingly, after painstaking research, and at great personal expense, I was able to pinpoint the precise federal agency where this problem of so many agents began. I was also able to come up with an ingenious solution to the problem which I will describe in some detail later in this work. As a matter of fact, I uncovered a small human error that had occurred in an obscure office in an oval-shaped room in The White House, which for a brief moment caused the federal hiring mechanism to go berserk.
If you are to understand this, my proposed solution to the problem properly and if my solution to the problem along with my contention that I am not paranoid is to receive any credibility, you need to be given a little background about this research.
In the beginning, as I began to search for clues about why the government has so many agents, it seemed logical to start in the personnel office, since this was basically a personnel issue. So I started looking for clues in the Federal Office of Personnel (F.O.P.). Little did I know at the time that my quest for information would take me on a trail through literally millions, if not billions, of government departments, some familiar to most Americans, and some obscure. In my research, I was required at great personal risk to pass through scandals, cover-ups, plots, depredations, hokey sales presentations, tasteless jokes, schemes, murders, trite, over-used cliches, intrigues, death, and violence, not to mention non-designer clothing and poor color coordination.
Having run into this much resistance simply by going to the local post office to mail an odd-sized package, I knew that I must be on to something big. I felt that this could be a scandal the size of Watergate, The Iran Contra Affair, President Clinton's underwear, or even President Reagan's former Polyps. Regardless of the costs or risks, I now know that I must press on for this was a story that demanded to be told. This trail of the hiring glitch led up through the Federal Urinal Development Department (F.U.D.D.), and then through the E.P.A. (The department of Elevated Payroll Advocates). It was here that an anonymous tipster who called himself "Deep Doo Doo" referred us to the Army, and then The Navy, and then the Marines, and even to the Congressional Resource Allocation Panel (C.R.A.P.). Next, I found a lead that took me to the Department of "Senatorial Legal Experts who give Assistance and eaZe Embarrassment" (S.L.E.A.Z.E.). where I followed the trail to the office of Major Useful Congressional Outside Unidentifiable Sources (M.U.-C.O.U.S.), Department of Unnoticeable Getaways for those of High-level (D.O.U.G.H.), The Government Research And Fact Finding Task force (G.R.A.F.F.T.), The Bureau of Un-reformed Retired Politicians (B.U.R.P.), and finally to the Federal Agency of Retired Toasters (F.A.R.T.).
And so, on a very limited budget ($1.00 borrowed), and in roughly the time it takes a typical person to complete the removal of their own gall bladder with a sharp rock and their teeth, skateboard across the Gobi Desert, or stand in line for a passport, I completed the research and solved the mystery surrounding this vitally important subject.
Having followed this trail to its conclusion, to my great surprise, I found that it ended at the very pinnacle of power, the precise spot where high powered decisions effecting the lives of every man, woman, and child on the face of the planet are made, where the very future prospects of life as we know it hang in the balance.
From the office of the Wife Of the President (W.O.P.), I went over to the Federal Department of Dungeons and Official Pain and Torture (F.D.D.O.P.A.T.),where experimental pain tolerance research is conducted, and where human beings are drawn and quartered (next door to I.R.S. headquarters). And then they sent me to the Office Of the President himSelf (O.O.P.S.), who, according to official government protocol, was blamed for the actual problem. It was there, naked to my very eyes, that real life government insiders revealed some juicy gossip, great rumors, fascinating speculation, and the official version of the truth about what happened!
Tell you more when I think of it..
