As a former Florida tax attorney, I’m not sure I can completely endorse Mr. Dong Resin’s taxation suggestions for the Sunshine State, but they’re a hell of a lot smarter and more inventive than any put forward by the state legislature. To wit:
Any white kid who lives in a gated community but talks like Flavor Flav did when he was still on the rock has to pay $12,000 a year to the NAACP. $14,000 if he tries to intimidate people with it.
You’re all, “Ooh, look at me, I’m a chic umlaut. I make girls’ names look modish, like ZoÃ« and ChloÃ«, and I rock with strung out 80s metal bands!”
“If the Market Near My House Were a Baseball Game, and You Were a Fan,” by Roy Kesey.
“Lovebuzz,” by Mike Topp
You all read this, yes?
Choose your own New York City adventure.
Hindsight: “It was primarily the series of accidental deaths, more than the wild accusations of ‘gross negligence’, that got me fired from my job as a crossing guard at the School for the Blind.”