Irs Jokes Quotes

A man wrote a letter to the IRS saying, "I have been unable to sleep knowing that I have cheated on my income tax. I have understated my taxable income and have enclosed a check for $150. If I still can’t sleep, I will send the rest.

There is no time machine To see What happened In the past; If you can Invent it; But all they invent Is lies And fake evidence; There are no crimes Reasoning is easy when no one can know Justice Is A Joke (Time Machine) / Apocalypse Revolution

Prannoy Roy was appointing sons, daughters, in-laws, nephews and nieces of top officials and politicians in NDTV as journalists.  This show of nepotism in journalism changed the style of journalism as access to corridors of power became easy for media houses. Not only bureaucrats, several kith and kin and siblings of top police and military officials too became journalists in NDTV, as and when the organization needed largesse from the system.  This unholy recruitment of journalists completely changed the character of India’s journalism. In those days the joke in Delhi was that all siblings of the powerful, not-so-good-in-academics can become journalists through NDTV. Still, when you look at the family details of many journalists in NDTV, you can see their links with IAS, IPS, IRS, Military top brass uncles, fathers, and in- laws.

The guys in a local bar were so sure that their bartender was the strongest man in town that they offered a standing thousand-dollar bet. The bartender would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a glass, and then hand the lemon to a patron. Anyone who could squeeze out one more drop of juice would win the money. Many people had tried over the years—weight lifters, longshoremen, you name it—but nobody could do it. One day, this scrawny little man comes into the bar wearing thick glasses and a polyester suit and says in a tiny, squeaky voice, “ I’d like to try the bet.” After the laughter dies down, the bartender shrugs, grabs a lemon, and squeezes away. Then he hands the wrinkled remains to the little man. The crowd’s laughter turns to astonished silence as the man clenches his fist around the lemon and six drops fall into the glass. As the other patrons cheer, the bartender pays the little man the thousand dollars and asks him, “What do you do for a living? Are you a lumberjack, a weight lifter, or what?” “Oh no. I work for the IRS.