Oo-er
Checking my webstats this morning and came across visits from a domain I hadn’t seen before with their firewall portal somewhere around Harrogate. One quick reverse DNS lookup later - it only turned out to be from (DAH-DAH-DAAAH!) Customs and Excise – The tax man! Using Internet Explorer 6.0 on an NT4 workstation, no less.
For any tax inspectors reading; it’s no use checking out whether I make any money doing this blog because I don’t. I use free resources and my only input is my own free time. No money changes hands so you might as well go and snoop on some Ebayers instead. It’s bad enough being poor and unable to get a better job without some nosey member of Gordon Brown’s money grubbing militia snooping around for more of my non existent disposable income to waste on phoney Tony’s pet causes. You’ll have to raise someone else’s taxes because you’ve had all I’ve got. I’m broke – got that? Thank you. Not even to fill the pensions black hole or pay for the latest governmental £X million IT cock up. I’d write you a rude letter but I can’t spell “Thrrp!”
This, as I have detailed on a couple of occasions, is my brain dump. The toxic thought disposal area for all the bees in my bonnet that refuse to stop buzzing. It is not, and will never be a commercial enterprise. I have debated with Mrs Sticker the possibility to perchance selling ‘Bill Sticker’ merchandise, but have elected not to do so because that would be a sure fire way of being identified and possibly fired by my employers.
Unless of course some kind soul were to offer me a full time job as a columnist on a regular basis. Right, like that’s going to happen.
Just in case though, I’m open to serious offers. Then, and only then, would I be able to afford to pay any more tax. Don’t hold your breath.
For any tax inspectors reading; it’s no use checking out whether I make any money doing this blog because I don’t. I use free resources and my only input is my own free time. No money changes hands so you might as well go and snoop on some Ebayers instead. It’s bad enough being poor and unable to get a better job without some nosey member of Gordon Brown’s money grubbing militia snooping around for more of my non existent disposable income to waste on phoney Tony’s pet causes. You’ll have to raise someone else’s taxes because you’ve had all I’ve got. I’m broke – got that? Thank you. Not even to fill the pensions black hole or pay for the latest governmental £X million IT cock up. I’d write you a rude letter but I can’t spell “Thrrp!”
This, as I have detailed on a couple of occasions, is my brain dump. The toxic thought disposal area for all the bees in my bonnet that refuse to stop buzzing. It is not, and will never be a commercial enterprise. I have debated with Mrs Sticker the possibility to perchance selling ‘Bill Sticker’ merchandise, but have elected not to do so because that would be a sure fire way of being identified and possibly fired by my employers.
Unless of course some kind soul were to offer me a full time job as a columnist on a regular basis. Right, like that’s going to happen.
Just in case though, I’m open to serious offers. Then, and only then, would I be able to afford to pay any more tax. Don’t hold your breath.
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