If you follow my blog at all, you may recall from a pair of my / recent posts that, in all honesty, I'm just trying to earn some minimal income from Steemit posts describing and/or including photographs, so that I can claim the cost of those travels as business expenses. As I wrote before:
I realized that I can claim the costs of my travels this year as business expenses as long as I write about them here, earn at least a penny in upvotes, and convert that to fiat before 2018. If I'm wrong, then fuck it, let the IRS read this series of quickly-written posts and then tell me that I'm wrong, but that's my understanding.
So, yeah, that's my whole goal here. I don't really feel like writing though. Strange, because it's one of my few talents, and one I developed simply because I enjoyed it, but I don't really feel like writing right now. So, instead, I've got a couple photographs proving I did some other stuff this year too. Since my own upvote seems worth about a penny, I guess now I can automatically upvote my own posts and legally claim visiting friends and/or anarchist collaborators in Evansville, Indiana and Asheville, North Carolina, as business expenses, thereby reducing my overall tax liability. (Evidently I really don't give a shit about business because I declare the pure stratagem motivating these posts while doing nothing to "build a Steemit audience" or anything of that kind, but whatever, maybe my tension with the whole notion of self-promotion will become the subject of a later post all on its own.)
Anyway, I've got this group of friends, which the brilliant @utopiaboy named "the Wandering Communist Posse." Among these friends, Robin hosts an annual "Bro-B-Q," in which 'bros'--and, quite emphatically, ladies, trans folk, and really anyone with a decent personality, regardless of sexuality--in Evansville, Indiana. As my friend describes it, "Bro-B-Q" (an annual gathering of all his friends) stands as one of his favorite holidays. That and May Day, which he spends driving between fast food restaurants where he encourages the workers to unionize.
I would say the trio of my favorite holidays simply expands to include Festivus, as I'm currently feeling like a prisoner at the moment in the house of my immediate family, who care about Christmas while I don't: feeling, in other words, like airing some grievances. Regardless, here's some photographic evidence that I traveled to Evansville, Indiana (after flying to Chicago to meet my friend R. Rivendell and driving to Evansville from there), in whatever sequence or format appears to have synced with my Dropbox, and/or which I can discover on social media... alright, looks like social media it is, then. Whatever, here's some proof that Bro-B-Q happened, and I attended, and though this picture doesn't prove it, yeah I've been talking about buying a plot of land down there and starting a community garden or something, so that's also somewhat business-like. Take that, IRS!
(4 June 2017. Yours truly: the liquor-bloated bloke on the left.)
So, let's count Zane as the latest among the Wandering Communist Posse, as I met him more recently, but nonetheless, a valued addition to the circle. Also one of the possible co-owners of that plot of land I might buy, so again, fuck off tax-man. Anyway, here's a picture of Zane and I in Asheville, NC, 22 de diciembre:
(Source)
Alright, I guess we're done with that shit now. Thanks for any and all upvotes beyond my own, as you're helping me reduce my U.S. tax liability for 2017, which sits too high for my taste right now. Happy belated Festivus, and fuck taxes. Ciao!
