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Ty = Rad

Feeling pretty good. A bit more drowsy than my last couple naps, but definitely fully functional (or as close as I get anyway).

Neetu! Get back on the boat.

Nick's on the boat now... he doesn't think it's hard enough so he does pushups when he wakes up. He just doesn't know what we know.

The Taxman

I walk down to my stupid community mailbox to check my mail. The idiocy of these types of mailboxes strikes me, as it has every other time I've checked my mail. Bills. Magazines. Junk Mail. A package slip!

I couldn't remember what I ordered, but that happens a lot. I start driving towards the post office, eager to get whatever gadget I've ordered this time. Stopped at a red light, I look more closely at the slip. It's not a package, it's a certified letter. And it's from the IRS.

Crap.