There are several Indisputable Truths of Life.
- You don’t tug on Superman’s cape.
- You don’t piss into the wind.
- You don’t pull the mask of that old Lone Ranger.
- And you don’t mess around with Jim. (Just ask Bad Leroy Brown)
- Don’t fuck with the IRS.
When it comes to the IRS, I’d rather perform a root canal on myself with a ball peen hammer and a rusty railroad spike than to deal with those bastards.
I heard a preacher once say that one of his parishoners had a problem with the Internal Revenue Service and he refused to pay them what thy said he owed. The Guy told the preacher, “They can’t get blood from a turnip.” The preacher replied, “But they can certainly come get the turnip.”
Taking into account the preacher’s admonishment that “they can come get the turnip”, and the fact that the IRS can be “aggressive” when pursuing tax scofflaws, I see absolutely no reason to piss off the revenuers.
It appears, however, that a couple of people in Georgia evidently didn’t get the Don’t Jack With the IRS memo. Or heard about the blood from a turnip story.