tax exempt
Yesterday was the deadline to file taxes. So, naturally, the managing directors wait until mid afternoon to awaken the will to do theirs. By “do” I mean, ask me to point where they need to sign and then dump the whole packet on my lap so I bother with the mailing nuissance…for their personal taxes.
As it is expected, being omnipotent beings of the universe and all, they don’t have to pay taxes. For that matter, their wives don’t have to either. Don’t get me wrong, they are supposed to pay thousands of dollars (upwards from $90,000). They just don’t. [Thank you Bush for the myriad ways in which you favor the very rich by allowing them to claim, say oh, 99 exemptions, without having any little trolls to justify this egregious number]. But I digress…
Instead, everything gets paid by…drumroll please…the all encompassing and forgiving rug of the management company, which by the way is money that the investors trust it’s being used for office operations.
Ah, yes! It’s admirable, really, that they can get away with so much. So far the company has absorbed skiing vacations, computers for the kids, airfare for the wives, a Tiffany ring, and innumerable dinners under the other office rug called “personal expenses.” Now, it’s also responsible for paying their personal taxes! It’s organized crime at its finest.
I think they should give workshops on the art of robbing people blind. They could call them “Profit up the yinyan by miss-managing people’s IRA accounts” or “The finer points of corporate racketeering” or better yet “Join the Kleptocracy!”Â
