debauched accountant

For some reason, whenever I get stoned I end up trashing my apartment. Like I woke up this morning all, "what the fuck?"

It appears I had started to "do my taxes." And evidently "doing taxes" involves dumping a lot of receipts, paystubs, envelopes and phonebills all over the kitchen floor and then covering them up with a few 7-11 bags, and a carton of milk whose 'use by' date is 10 days ago.

It would be less funny but I've never paid taxes in my life and have no idea how to go about doing so. Oh and there are three pairs of underwear by my chord organ. Nothing too exciting I mean, it was all MY underwear.


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