My Obituary


I’ve never had really deep thoughts about an obituary until today.  A 29 year-old lady at my office told me I was sweet for opening the door and answering her QuickBooks questions. My reply was that I was sweet because I didn’t want my obituary to read:

“Mauled by female workers for not being sweet.”

I am outnumbered 14-1 in this accounting practice.  I need not say anything further on the subject matter. This prompted me to have really deep thoughts on other potential obits such as,

“Mauled by 50 Shaders who hated his blog posts.”

“Mauled by Female Coders.”

“Overexposed to love by 20 grandchildren.”

“Drowned in the slobbery of his Golden Retriever.”

“Massive brain trauma trying to figure out how quickly clients foul up a set of QuickBooks.”

“Died on an Oklahoma freeway going 25 MPH, on a clear sunny day.”

“Died on an Oklahoma freeway, by a drunk, texting Okie, driving a flaming 1976 Ford Pinto, during a polar vortex 12″ ice layer, driving 85 MPH.”

“Died on an Oklahoma freeway accidentally running into a Lazy Boy recliner, Mathis Brothers Sofa, or a Sleep number mattress.”

“Caught pneumonia running into front yard when polar vortex suddenly appeared overnight.”

“Suffocated under his wife’s quilts.”

“Murdered when wife reads above obit.”

“Murdered by wife when she reads 29 year-old says he’s sweet.”

“Murdered by wife when she learned he was sweet.”

“Died at desk preparing his 60,000,000 Form 1040.”

“Died in his sleep, wife suspected in murder when recording reveals he uttered his first fiancées name.”

“Found blown to bits after toilet seat left lifted.”

These are quite gruesome to say the least.  But there is a recurring theme here, that I want investigated should I actually die.

“Man killed  from blog posts.  Female assailants too many to narrow down.  Authorities press charges against wife.”

I suppose I should clean up my act and get away from Oklahoma as fast as I can.

Naaaaawwww….. that wouldn’t be any fun.


Female Code – February 2015 (Nude Tax Preparation)

Football Season - Again???

My #$%^& DRESS!

I am currently working for a local CPA firm until our move to Kauai is complete.  Yes, I know, I know… I’ve been writing about this for over a year.  A house is in the escrow process, but until then, I wanted to stay busy and make a little money.  Little did I know I’d be in the presence of an almost ALL female firm.  And they love to talk and yes, gang up on me, their token male employee (that’s my nickname). I prefer certified professional man candy. They talk about men as though we were the problems for all of society and human history, and how they can’t wait for their husbands to go on business trips, or military assignments to Mars.  I do my best to not listen, to ignore them, but they are awful loud.

Today one female presented me with material.  The woman accidentally spilled grease on a dress that she was wearing for an after-work social gathering, most likely dominated by other alpha females, who pretend to listen to your conversation, ready to catapult themselves and their day into the conversation – which would obviously be about her dress.  Personally, I think she planned this.

This lady… I mean woman…. well, a female…. wondered if she should go home to get a different dress or immediately pass go, collect $200 and then return to Park Place for shopping.  To her aid came her female gang members (comrades) with solutions on how to rid the dress of the grease stain, that looked like a decorative St. Valentine’s day heart.  Ahhhh…

Get ready for this men… I kid you not….

  1. Female # 1 – put salt on it.  So she did, wait no, it was pepper.  So the heart turned to a speckled blob, quite unattractive.
  2. Female #2 – put baking powder on it.  She asked if female #2 if she had any on her.  Well no, but there was some in the car.  So she went to the car.  Who keeps baking powder in their car?  I was afraid to ask any further.  This didn’t work either, the stain was  now the shape and size of Texas and she was scratching her leg from the unexpected discovery she was violently allergic to the mixture of baking powder and pepper.  I was laughing… very, very, silently under my breath.  Even token men can be mauled.  Never, ever, laugh at a women about her dress, and never, ever, answer the question of do they look fat.
  3. Female #3 – Battery Acid.  Well yes, you will find that in a car, but really…  She nixed this one, which is good, because the chemical reaction between battery acid and baking powder is an explosion.  I was silently cheering this option on.  What does a man do for entertainment these days?
  4. Female #4 – Splatter Paint Colors.  Go all avant-garde with a Pablo Picantesauce impressionistic work of art.
  5. Female #5 – More grease.  Yes, splash her with grease so that the dress just matches all around.  They might all get up at once and starting lobbing their French fries all over her.

This final solution was the one she thought of choosing, but to do so she would have to strip, close the door and prepare taxes in the nude.

This is when the enterprising man in me – came into the picture and the rescue.  I mentioned I would trip the fire alarm and send her rushing into the streets, where I’d have a little desk, ten-key calculator, and laptop ready to continue preparing tax returns.  By the end of the day, we’d have 1,000 new clients and she would be heftily tipped.

She didn’t think I was a bit funny or clever, and suggested I run out of the building naked.  And this clearly why women are from Venus – a planet uninhabitable, humorless, cloudy, gassy, overly heated, and unable to penetrate with logic or reason.  I could have saved this gang of women their entire lunch hour by telling her to go home and get a different dress, but heck, then they wouldn’t have anything to do in the lunch room, except batter the token men in their lives.

Further proof that the DNA Code of women is nothing more than a mutated microbe that arrived from Venus, came out of the sludge, completely nude.. ready to file your 1040EZ.

And we men, in our infinite wisdom and simplicity, are spell bound by them, well… their nude bodies.

Silly and absurd?  You betcha!

Blog Blah Syndrome

It is hard to be a writer and an accountant. I would love to leave accounting and taxation forever and be a well known author sitting on a beach and dreaming of my next book. I’ve written three – a trilogy and still waiting for success to arrive. Book 4 is still in edit mode and book 5 about 50% complete. But it’s tax season and I’m stuck in the blahs of blahland Oklahoma, where the winds come sweeping down the plains at 110 mph, making a 50 degree day a negative 60 wind chill. Soon our tornado sirens will be blaring and we will be scrambling to take cover. Blah.

Why did the government create tax season to end on April 15th, why not December 24th? Why don’t they stagger it so we don’t have to be chained to a desk and computer 7 days a week? Whose bright idea was it to create the income tax? I can hear it now, “It will create lots and lots of jobs for lawyers, accountants, printers, suppliers and who knows what else. Yes, yes bring on the income tax system.” And ever since they have tried to simplify it (wink, wink). Yeah right! Tax season even interrupts my blogging. Blah – Blah.

Needless to say I have not written anything humorous as of late because it’s tax season.  Are you laughing right now? I didn’t think so, but don’t blame me. As a matter of fact, buy my books and you can claim you were responsible for there being one less accountant in this world. I dare you! Blah, Blah, Blah.

Then there’s the yard work of spring ahead – pulling weeds, mowing, trimming, and scooping up my Golden Retriever’s fresh and warm poop. Blah, Bluhck, Blah.  Yes, that’s the actual sound I make!

I’ve been doing this now for 29 years. 29 years hearing clients wanting to deduct dogs as dependents, bass boats as entertainment, new bras as support expense, and wondering why my fee doesn’t go down with their refund size. But it gets better!  There are those that call me up and say they did their own return and now the IRS is questioning it. Oh now they want my help!  Afraid not folks, this bean counter and bean planner is shipping out to HAWAII.

Yes, I am moving later this year to live out the remainder of my life where my soul has been crying for ever since I first visited paradise in 1986. They say it will ruin my life READ HERE, but I don’t care, bring on the ruin.  I must cure this blah syndrome I’ve been infected by.  I need to run semi-nude on a warm sandy beach and let the remnants of my hair blow in the trade winds.  I need to make mad passionate Mai Tai’s and little stick animals from driftwood, learn to hula and lose a tire gut.  If you want to hate this humble blogger, well tough Golden Retriever Doo Doo!  I’ll be going on a 2-week due diligence trip shortly after tax season to decide which town to live in.  Then it’s time to sell everything I own except shorts, shirts and slippers (we called them thongs when I was kid) and buy a one-way ticket.

So over the next few weeks, if you get sick of my Hawaii posts, buy my books and you can lay claim that you were responsible to there being one less obnoxious blogger bragging about moving to Hawaii in this world.  It’s okay to hate me now.  Hater!



Coffee Chaos – May 2013 Edition (Children)

Coffee Chaos The Monthly Journal

Coffee Chaos
The Monthly Journal

We have been watching our grandson while our daughter-in-law continues in Dental School.  She will be responsible for taking care of the chaos in my mouth for the remainder of my life.  Part of that chaos is surely attributable to my love of coffee.  For a very long time neither of my children liked coffee.  As a matter of fact, they thought my wife and I were crazy.  Well we are, but that is beside the point.  Now that they are both adults, they have learned to love coffee.  My daughter who is 25 and SINGLE is going to dental hygiene school.  Between her and my daughter-in-law, my mouth should be well taken care of.

However, they are now loving my Colombian Supremo beans a little too much.  My son stops by each morning to drop off my grandson and has a large cup as we discuss the daily drudgery of being accountants.  I now know why they call us bean counters, because I am starting to count the depletion of my Colombian Supremo bean inventory with great angst and anxiety. We are now up to three pots in the morning and our commercial coffee grinder is being put to the test and depreciating rapidly.  We are already on a monthly shipment of the beans from Coffee for Less. I hope they see I’m a good referral source and ship one free 100 pound bag to me this month.  One can hope right? Then my daughter now has her own Keurig machine, but still consumes MY supply.

Now I love my kids, but they are making me draw the line. Kids or beans, beans or kids?  Whoever said children are a blessing should have their beans removed for a month. Then let’s see how they truly feel?  It’s enough to make a parent become a closet coffee addict and hide from the children coffee conspiracy.  Now our time of watching our grandson ends this next week and my supply of beans will stop depleting as rapidly.  My son will have to find his caffeine fix somewhere else.

This leaves me only with the issue of my daughter.  If there are any rich doctors, dentists or computer engineers seeking a beautiful, fun loving, and intelligent soul mate – puhleeeeze reply to this post. I’m taking applications and interviews for a son-in-law. Those with saggy pants need not apply. Attach photos of your coffee accessories and bean supply. I will make exception for Starbucks franchise owners or employees of Coffee for Less.  I’ll even throw in the 100 pounds of beans Coffee for Less ships me as her dowry.


Are you reading this Coffee for Less?  Geez, gratitude for shameless promotion is so hard to find these days. Oh the chaos that coffee brings to world.  Yes I am very shameless, but hey, every bean counts.

What madness has coffee brought to your family?

Coffee Chaos – April 2013 Edition (Tax Deadline)

Coffee ChaosThe Monthly Journal

Coffee Chaos
The Monthly Journal

I am a CPA.  Today is April 5th and the 15th is nearing.  Tax season is chaos, but it would be a disaster if my Colombian Supremo coffee supply ran out.  I can only imagine the deductions I’d let people get away with if caffeine wasn’t flowing through my veins.  Here’s an actual list of tax benefits and deductions people have asked if they could claim:

  1. Pets as dependents.  Yes dogs, cats, goldfish, squirrels and others are dependent on your goodwill and care, but the gods in Congress have written laws that prevent such deductions.  Although they have plenty deductions for their own pet projects.  He who writes the laws controls the laws.
  2. Travel Motor Home.  I had a lady one time demand I write off 100% of her motor home for conventions she attended selling makeup.  I suggested she run for Congress. She has the same mindset as they do.
  3. Bass Boats and Lap Dances.  You see, Bubbas entertain Bubba clients on Bubba Bass boats (wink wink).  They also want to deduct the booze and the lap dances from Lola Arlene’s House of Pleasure.  I believe these ex-clients are also members of Congress.
  4.  Home Office.  I had one client who wanted to deduct all the expenses of her home for watching a friends child.  Just one child. She was paid for the service, but claiming an 80″ HDTV as a office expense seemed a little excessive. What do you think?
  5. Breast Pump.  The mother of the child above also wanted to deduct her breast pump as a childcare expense.

I could go on and on, but this truly isn’t news to any of you.  You probably already know someone who qualifies for the Earned Income Credit and drives a BMW M6 convertible and has enough bling on them to compete with Zales jewelers.

My point is that the income tax systems (Federal and State) requires I stay on my toes, with eyes wide open.  Therefore my deduction of my Colombian Supremo bean supply, commercial grinder and brewer are an immediate and necessary business expense.  Now if I could just find a way to deduct my wine and cellar maintenance expense.

Happy tax season taxpayers and fellow CPA’s. This is my 28th survival season. As for members of congress and politicians everywhere, may someone slip you a decaf.  That’s coffee chaos I’d love to watch on C-SPASTIC.

Ginger or Mary Ann?

My daughter is now on a kick to see how I can create humor around photos.  For us aging men, there has always been a deep and daily thought on what would happen if we were stranded on an island and had only two choices of who to be stranded with.  That’s right, the philosophical conundrum of – Ginger or Mary Ann?


I can settle this quickly. Without a doubt Mary Ann.  Why you ask?

Mary Ann is a farmer’s daughter who set out on a three hour tour and wound up ship wrecked on Mulligan’s Isle with yours truly, the accountant.  Yeah, yeah, I know there was no accountant on the ship, but it’s my fantasy, so let me have fun. It’s tax season for crying out loud. Besides none of you ever questioned the absurdity of a filthy rich millionaire and movie star taking a low budget trolling tour.  It makes more sense for a tight-wad CPA. Producers canned the idea stating a CPA character would have sunk the Minnow in the pilot episode.  Well, they never met me.

Mary Ann is a farmer, so she is used to hard work and living off the land.  This means she will devise a way to make coconuts into something edible.  She’s been couped up in the hen house for most of her life and now she’s trapped there with me. For the sake of my minor aged readers, I’ll stop here.  But since I’ve never truly understood the meaning of “Farmer’s Daughter”, I assume world championship rodeo is involved. YEE HAW!

Had it been Ginger the “Movie Star”, of Rodeo Drive, she would have been immediately worried about her cuticles, hair, and her 50 Coach bags.  She’d be barking out orders like a super model pit bull on Red Bull.  She would most likely be an “experienced” lady of Lola LaLa Land,  and have been around the island a few times, if you get my sea weed drift.  Besides I saw her video on TMZ not intentionally wanting it to go public (wink, wink.) Any time she wanted something she’d go into acting mode; strutting towards you, while you sing a Bob Seger tune in your head, winking and whispering, “Oh dawling could you fix me some fish?”  Nope, she would be first to go over board.

Mary Ann would have already caught dinner for two, had it fried in a pan, and never, ever let me forget I was a man.  YEE HAW! Besides, who wants to go the beach with a woman that has a $5,000 Fendi evening gown on?  Mary Ann’s running around the place with beautiful flowing brunette hair and tanned skin, with faded worn out denim short-shorts and a thinning plaid shirt tied above the naval base, calling out for invasion.  Grrrrrr… Woof Woof! Sorry I can only hold back the animal inside me for a while.  Am I right, or am I right?

She’s also a enterprising woman, willing to do back breaking work, while I sip on Pina Colada’s and count the coconut inventory(my only job as chief beach bum.) She made a moonshine still too!  It doesn’t take a professor for this smart country gal. She also made a wooden railroad on the island so that I could take a daily trip to Petticoat Junction.  Hey, it’s my fantasy island!  Again, you never questioned how the Minnow could carry so much stuff, like luggage, for a three hour tour.  Was Ginger giving a fashion show?

Now for a sing along:

Just sit right back and I’ll tell a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started from this tropic port
Aboard this tiny ship.
The mate was a skinny silly man,
The skipper brave and sure.
Six passengers set sail that day
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.
The ocean bellowed and the ocean swayed,
Someone sabotaged the tiny ship,
If not for the courage of the devious CPA
Mary Ann would be lost, Mary Ann would be lost.
The ship set ground on the shore of a deserted fruity isle
With Eduardo,
No Skipper or Scooby Doo,
No millionaire and his wife,
No movie star,
No professor, just
Mary Ann,
Here on Mulligan’s Isle.

Oh what a fantasy!  That’s when some little short runt would come running by screaming “Boss, De Plane, De Plane!”  and a cruise whip wrecks just right off the reef, with thousands of people from the geriatric Love Boat come swimming my way wearing bikinis, thongs and speedos. This is where my fantasy runs ashore on the wind swept plains of Oklahoma.

As you can see I would not make a great erotic author.  Fantasy islands have too many tourist and are overly commercial.  We only had 3 channels growing up.  Today we have 3,000.  There’s more material now for absurd fantasy than ever before.

Get busy writing!

The Desperately Humorous Accountant

If you have ever been an accountant, you may experience what many accountants experience, the desire to escape and live an exciting and imaginative life.  An accountant with an imagination is one you should try to avoid, unless you like having meetings at the prison visitors room. I have tried with all my powers to execute my professional and ethical responsibilities, but the rules and regulations are more active and changing than lion hunting. One slip up and you can be shredded. I was just recently reintroduced to an old Monty Python skit.  You should enjoy this even though it is decades old.  It still applies to me to this very day.

Now that you have watched this silly farce, remember this next time you talk with your accountant. When you are with them, roar slightly and sing “Career Guidance Counselor”, they will act all stoic and stodgy, as if they didn’t understand you, but they will get it.  If they try to remain stoic and stodgy say the following words, one at a time, with a pause in between while they prepare your tax return in front of you:

  1. Dull
  2. Tediously dull
  3. Appalling and tediously dull
  4. Desperately appalling and tediously dull
  5. Drab and dreadfully awful, desperately appalling and tediously dull
  6. Stuffy, drab and dreadfully awful, desperately appalling and tediously dull
  7. Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull Dull

And now for something completely different,

If the accountant looks at you as though you were insane, sing again “Career Guidance Counselor” and make a whipping sound while holding up your chair.  If the accountant still appears to be stoic and stodgy, leave his office and head over to mine. I’ll get it, we’ll laugh at my predecessor and I’ll gladly accept your new business.

Who says we accountants are all stuffy, drab and dreadfully awful, desperately appalling and tediously dull?  You see those of us accountants who want exciting second lives as authors have a slight imaginative edge over our  stuffy, drab and dreadfully awful, desperately appalling and tediously dull, spineless, timid, humorless and easily dominated colleagues.

And there you have it, my new client attraction business model for 2013 – The desperately humorous accountant! I’ll even sing out the results of your 1040.