Hopping Mad and Out of Paper Towels

Dear friends:

I write this to ask you to please join me in my fight against the Face Tax, in the hopes that we can send a strong message to Congress that we will not tolerate this sort of highway robbery against citizens who want nothing more than to enjoy their own faces without being subject to financial penalties. The proposed tax is an affront to the 99.9 percent of Americans who possess a face, and grossly favors those who do not, letting them all but skate free of this officious regulation. I believe that it is the birthright of every person who abides by the laws of this country to freely wash, touch, and display their faces free of charge. But Big Government now wants to change all that. If our very faces are taxed, what’s next---the high-priced luxury items we purchase, or stays in expensive hotels, or the very property we own? Furthermore, I can envision this tax leading to the perception that faces are a bad thing, leading eventually to the outright ostracization of those who dare to walk our streets exposing them to public view. I do not want to live in a society where I wake up in the morning and the entire staff of the Internal Revenue Service is standing over my bed, peering judgmentally at my eyes, nose, and mouth as they hold their grubby hands out and say with a sneer, “Pay up, Nancyboy, it’s still there.”

Looking down at the Sacramento Bee article which has stirred in me such a riot of emotion, I see that I may be somewhat misinterpreting the facts as I first understood them, and that what has actually been proposed is something called the F.A.C.E. Tax, which is short for Federal Emergency Casualty Exclusion, which I guess would be something quite different from what I’m thinking of, yet I cannot help but still feel a rage burning within that the government would even CONSIDER a tax on our faces, and this rage inflicted upon me will almost certainly destroy my ability to concentrate on the foosball semi-finals at the rec center today, which I had every hope of winning, a victory which now, in my weakened state, seems like an utter impossibility. Thanks again, Bush White House, for ruining yet another day.

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