Dear Sir/Madam/Inhuman Cyborg Programmed to Eviscerate Me Every April,
As an overworked drone who has been staring at columns full of numbers for the past several months until you feel exhausted and irredeemably hollow (much like the icky, unclean feeling us laypeople get after watching an episode of Nip/Tuck), I think I can say with some assurance that you have been very busy, and neglectful of your family and loved ones. This is an issue well-known to us hard-working Americans, who spend the entire year short-changing those we care about in favor of earning more money so that we can then pull it out of our butt to give to you. We want you to know we understand what you are going through right now. And we hope, nay, demand, that you stop this terrible cycle. Stop making us work extra hard and alienate those near and dear to us by allowing us the following work-life balance deductions.
•Dog Food. Approximately $3,000 annually. Not only does Rover provide delight to my wife and children, he is, unlike them, the only one who listens when I get drunk and go on one of my "nobody understands how hard I have to work to keep this house going" rants. Rubbing his belly and weeping is an important outlet for overall harmony in the home.
•Cat Litter. Approximately $1,000 annually. You try running things in a house with cat droppings everywhere. Not going to happen.
•Car DVD player. Approximately $800. Nothing says "I love you, now be quiet so Daddy can make deals on the phone while he’s driving" like this modern marvel of parenting.
•Wife’s Beauty Treatments. Approximately $4,000 annually. During an argument, these soothing, relaxing treatments have been offered as alternatives to the threat of my being killed countless times. I think we can all agree that my death could severely impact my ability to be a breadwinner, and my wife’s resulting prison time might perhaps adversely affect our children.
•Cable Bill. Just because they suck and aren’t even worth the money. You’re with me on that, right?
•Therapy. Approximately $20,000 annually. If blaming my parents for how I turned out doesn’t count as a legitimate business expense, what does?
Just remember, Sir/Madam/Uncaring Husk of What Was Once a Human Being, you are only overworked during tax season. The rest of us are trying to keep it together 24/7. For that, you blood-sucking automatons, you simply have to give us our props.
Uh…John Smith. Not Tom Stern at all. Actually, I kind of lost my nerve. Maybe you could just ignore the letter? Please don’t hurt me.