Plime tax experts?
Plime laywers?

That's what this was meant for:
Plimates helping Plimates

I had a dream last night that my Ex tried to kill me, but thanks to statistics that I read online about gun fights, I ran away in a Zig Zag pattern, thus increasing the chance she was to miss by 80%.

I went to look on her Myspace page to see if anything had changed, (I have a six sense about people that makes a funny way of showing up in my dreams), and Im glad and sad that we arent together.

I had it so bad for this girl that it makes me doubt my sanity. I am such a hopeless romantic I could die. Anywho, long story short, she is like 50 lbs heavier now, and dating the first boy she ever dated again. She has no job, and leeching off her new fling, and is a total f**king fruit case.

I feel better now.

I would really love it if I could avoid being involved in a big class action thing. All I really wanted was for them to pay the vet bill, and not be d**kheads, you know? I guess I resent the fact that I have to deal with lawyers and the class action crap if I want any results. It shouldn't be that way.

bump

I would love to be in a big class action thing.

Me too. Stick it to the bad guys.

Bumping uglies.

It is extremely ultra rare for the plaintiffs to benefit from class action lawsuits.

Generally they get a a few dollars, perhaps a coupon for a discount from the place you sued (in case you decide to buy from them again)

The attorneys on the other hand, well they get many millions of dollars.

No unless you are an attorney you don't want to be in a class action lawsuit.

I guess it doesn't help that I've been having an angsty day; but I call my mother today to ask her if she got my tax papers (my boss sent them over there instead of here.) The conversation went a little like this. (additional commentary in italics)

me: Ma' my boss said he sent you my tax papers, did you get them?
mom: you haven't gotten anything.
me: .....from "the sticklies."
mom: oh... I don't remember--oh wait there was something but it's only 200 bucks or something.
this already aggravates me because she's been opening my f**king mail. I f**king hate that
me: ...200 bucks is a lot for me, mom... can you please send me the papers so I can file my taxes?
mom: you don't need to file them though cause you don't have to pay.
me: mom, i want my money though, I'd like to file them, please send me the papers. I also need to fill out my financial aid and need those papers to do that.
mom: no you don't cause you're my dependant, you only need my info.
I've been doing my financial aid papers for a very long time, I know what I need.
me: no mom, I need my info too. And keep in mind that you might've filed me as a dependent, but because of my age, the school considers me an independent. I don't want to run in to any problems... can you mail me the papers?
mom: You don't need those papers... I can just email them to you if you want--here they are, says you made xxxx...
me: --just please send them to me please. Don't scan them, i want the original papers for my records.
mom: you don't need them though.
at this point, the old; unmedicated me would've been punching the wall and screaming nonsense at the phone...thank you cymbalta.
me: mom.please.send.me.the.papers.by.mail.
mom: I don't see why you need them though, I can scan them like I scanned mine.
me: Mom, i want the original papers for my records , I want to be comfortable in knowing I have everything I need in my hands. Please just mail me the papers.
mom: but--
me: MOM PLEASE MAIL ME THE PAPERS. THAT'S ALL I'M ASKING.
mom: you don't have to get mad. I'll mail them... but--
me: MOM THANK YOU.


*headdesk*

THIS IS WHY I NEVER CALL.

As we're on the subject of taxes...I OWE AGAIN this year. You know this rebate that everyone is so thrilled with? I owe almost twice as much. How lame is it that I have to shell out the big bucks before April just to get some back in June, or July, or August.

I hate f***ing taxes.

I've been sick for the last 16 days and I may have fractured a rib. If I open my mouth, my throat gets raspy and I start coughing, which compressed and strains my rib. IT HURTS LIKE A B*TCH. If I try to talk: pain. If I laugh for any reason: pain. Anything you do that requires you to open your mouth (that includes eating, drinking, brushing your teeth) makes me start dry coughing and keel over because of my f**king ribs.

Fortunately, I'm going to the doctor tomorrow morning. If I survive the night, that is.

*sob*

Don't leave us, anonymous Plimate.

*hug*

There there, buddy. It'll be okay.

I am. There was a mortgage company that ran the credit of tons of people around here (me one of them) without their consent.

I received a letter in the mail asking me to join the lawsuit. I don't think I will get a lot of money though.

Hey me too. Fell in love with my best friend sophomore year. Took me six months to get over it. Feel like an idiot now, barely even like her. But SIX MONTHS is a long long time.


Will never love so easily again. Sigh. /emo

I wouldn't be in it for the money, I'd be in it for change ;p

Oh, man... I know EXACTLY what you mean. Cymbalta has saved my sanity. I love that stuff. Now, if only they would release the patent so I could get it generic! I can't hack spending $120/month.

Some of my extended family raise cattle and slaughter one every year for the beef, and they offered to split one with us this year. They have a friend that butchers part time out of his garage, and I went with hem to help pack the meat. The whole place smells like blood and death. When you read about that "sick sweet smell" it's hard to imagine, but it describes it perfectly. I watched as a side of beef (literally half a cow, sliced down the middle) was hacked into steaks. The bits and pieces that were left over were fed into a grinder and turned into hamburger.

Damn them. I can't look at a whopper the same way now.

bump

Me too!

/hops on the pile.