April 15th is fast approaching. I mean, other than a scheduled root canal, is there any other time that strikes fear and dread into the hearts of so many people?

Like many of you, I have waited until the last minute to do my taxes. I am a black, gay male with no dependents. My partner and I have a home together, but it is in his name, which means that due to our unrecognized union we cannot take part in any of the normal couple tax breaks.

You guys have already seen my post about same-sex marriage, though I could care less about a big church wedding. I want to take advantage of some of the same civil liberties given to heterosexual couples, primarily those that keep the government’s hands out of my pocket.

I normally prepare my tax ritual space in the basement. The ritual includes a vodka tonic, dim lighting and my favorite R & B diva, Patti LaBelle, playing. Strangely enough, some of the same elements appear during my traditional getting-ready-for-the club ritual.

I was lamenting the daunting task of tax preparation while contemplating what I would write about this week. I remembered a recent response posted by one of my readers, who posed an IRS question through the “Ask Me Anything” section of my Professor Locs Web site.

Question: Hi, Professor Locs. How is it when you deal with the IRS? When they owe you, it's chalked up to nothing. But if you owe them, then guess what, jackpot on interest. lp

Answer: I must step lightly when referencing the IRS. I mean, other than Oprah, it is the most powerful entity in America, with the ability to crush you like a bug. But I must support my readers.

You have to think about the IRS as the ultimate pimp. A pimp does not care how much you work, how much your feet hurt, how long the hours are or how many tricks you turn. All a pimp wants is his money, and you better have all of it!

And just like a pimp, the IRS can keep your money if it wants to, and no, they don't care. You work for them, and your money is their money.

For those of you who need a visual reference, please Google “Hookers at the Point: HBO Documentary.” This documentary has one of my favorite lines from the “seasoned veteran” when she states, in an almost nostalgic delivery, “It’s hard being a Ho now a days.” This cracked me up because I thought to myself: Was there ever an easy time to be a Ho?

So, you may as well throw on those fishnets, stilettos, rabbit fur and hit the streets. ’Cause that big purple hat, velvet cape-wearing, cane-wielding pimp, Daddy IRS, is ready to bust you upside the head with a sock of nickels in interest.

You better do what he says unless you want to get a letter from the IRS that reads "Audit," which is code for "Where is my money, &$#@!"

Lp: I hope this helps, and remember, a little concealer hides the bruises.
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Professor Locs describes himself as an African American, gay, Southern male who has had an extensive career in higher education Click here to read his blog.

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