did my taxes in chi-town last week. justin and his thai friend picked me up in the friend's tiny m3 or whatever model of BMW it is that has only two front seats and a tiny trunk space in which i had to squeeze. i lay down like a poor pet for 20 or so mins while we drove to the south-side to see the tax accountant.

it was a mexican neighbourhood and the tax office looked like any other that i would never have stepped into if i wanted to be completely legitimate- emblazoned on the front window were promises of "low mortgage financing!" and "24hour return!". and so we ventured in and it was a scene totally out of a movie. at the reception area a little kid was running around and Juan came out and said, "hey guys, come on in!" so we proceeded to his office in the back with a tequila bar in the corner, a tv area with a cheap sofa set, walls of tacky artwork and the floor stacked with files. as we go thru my returns he lights a cigarette and we chat about illegal immigrants and how puerto ricans could never survive in that neighbourhood because mexicans and puerto ricans didn't get along.

so i got about 2+ grand back on my returns which was a pleasant surprise for the 70 bucks i paid to have this guy file my returns for me. NICE. ask me the real story in person because if i get audited then i am fucked.