Thank You, Wall Street Journal
For the past couple of days I've been a little confused.
Tracking the updates on CNN, I was happy to learn the kids down in DC decided to play nice and work together to give a little spending money back to Americans in hopes of stimulating the economy. A figure of $600 was thrown around as the amount most individuals would receive. Offspring would earn 'rents an additional $300 per spawn.
The set income cap determining your ability to qualify for the rebate is what made me unsure of whether I'd have the chance to mull over paying down some debt or treating myself to a little bit of pampering.
The qualifying income cap thrown around a few times was $75K. What was a little murky was if an individual earned more than this amount whether they'd get a rebate or not. More often than not, the news sites I was reading claimed over $75K yields nada.
I come from pretty humble beginnings, so I completely emphasize and agree with issuing the checks to families earning under $75K and know what a difference the rebates would mean.
Not to pat myself on the back, but since graduating in '99 from college, I've busted my ass to claw my way up to lower middle management. (ha!) In doing so, I will be reporting just around the cap in my 2007 Form 1040. I was resigned to the fact that I wouldn't be getting a dime. Which sucks, because I live in New York City. Alone.
Which means that more often than not, my hard working ass is broke after scraping together rent that's more than most flyover state's average mortgage and car payments combined, the monthly raping from Time Warner to just get your basic digital cable and broadband internet access, the triple slam of Fed, State and NYC taxes with each paycheck and all the other trappings of living an adult life.
But ah! Finally, the rhetoric has been made plain and simple with the above chart published in today's WSJ. I still may end up with a little something to donate to the good folks at Sallie Mae (Two more years and those student loan payments will finally be a thing of the past!).
Now if I can only just figure out what my 'adjusted gross income' is...
Imagine you've finally found the love of your life. You have so much in common including taste in music, phobias, career choices. Heck, you even both named your dog Toy! You often find yourselves finishing one another's sentences and it's like you can FEEL when something's happening to your soul mate.
The blessed day of your wedding comes and passes. Then, you get an odd query from the government. The results of your blood test came back with a bit of unusual information.
Your DNA and that of your soul mate matches. Your soul mate is your biological twin.
This is exactly what happened to a British set of twins who were separated at birth and happened to meet and inevitably fall in love later in life. Their marriage has since been annulled, but the psychological damage has likely maimed the two for life.
Luquer Street Strikes Again
After November's Punch Prius game netted the Manfriend $5K in damage, I thought he'd stay away from Luquer Street when visiting. But lo, on Saturday, he once again parked outside the St. Mary's Star Of The Sea Rectory before settling in for a relaxing evening of homemade risotto and the NFL Playoffs.
Yesterday, we were running late for a family function back in Jersey. As he went to put our respective overnight bags in the trunk, both of us got a start. He from a flippant canine owner who had refused to curb their (apparently large-sized) dog and I from recognizing the tell tale signs that we would once again need to summon NY's Finest from the 76th Precinct upon viewing the Prius' smashed in passenger seat window.
It must have been kids out for a prank, as although the glove compartment and center consoles were rummaged through, nothing appeared to be taken (including the camcorder in the back seat). While the Manfriend furiously scrapped away the feces from his right shoe and cursed the neighborhood, I calmly called 911.
Ironically, the male partner of the 5-0 duo who arrived at the scene said that just the day before, the same thing had happened to him, however his pranksters got off with a brand new GPS system.
We then drove, windowless, out to the burbs in Jersey. (Who knew driving at the speed limit on Route 3 with one window completely down/out would elicit such trauma on the ear drums? Seriously, they were 'popping' like we were riding an express elevator up and down.)
I'm not sure when and if the oft-injured Prius will make a return to Brooklyn.
Once Again The Post Delivers
What it (many times) lacks in journalistic credibility and neutrality, the NY Post more than makes up for with its ingenious photo shopped covers as evident with today's Democratic marathon running bobble head contenders.
Nice legs, Hil.
(God only knows what Edwards was doing when that facial shot was taken.)
Iowa's only the start of the primary blitz to come, but I'm counting on you NY Post to keep us entertained throughout.
Welcome Back, Dave!
Of all the Late Night hosts returning this week, I've been salivating most for my man Letterman. Tonight, he's going to kick it off in true Dave style with a snarky welcome back from Hillary Clinton and guest Robin Williams. Oh, and Letterman's sporting a grey grizzly beard.
Happy New Year Coney Island Style
A few hundred brave soles took the annual Polar Bear New Years plunge in the frigid Atlantic off the Coney Island coast this morning. The daring dip isn't just for bragging rights. Club President, Louis Scarscella announced the group raised nearly $30,000 for seriously ill children(and their parents) to attend Camp Sunshine in Maine.
Way to go you crazy kids!