WHO WANTS TO BE A BILLIONAIRE? – SEASON 23

Pop Idols is now into its 10th season in South Africa, but it has a long way to go to rival the country’s big three yearly game shows, now entering their 23rd season – the prizes offered by the SABC, SAA and ESKOM are also much bigger and you don’t need to have any talent to win any of them either.

Over the past 23 years, since the dawn of our glorious liberation from competence and the dark memories of roads without potholes and state departments that used to function, a fresh crop of twelve directors have been chosen to the board of the SABC to have a crack at this year’s R5 billion bailout jackpot up for grabs. Money no taxpayer in their right mind can begrudge spending so little on to keep our fine public broadcaster going. Hell. what would life in SA be without the SABC?

Understandably the 2017 crop at the SABC might be a little peeved. Their R5 billion bailout pales into insignificance compared to the R12 billion bailout bonanza at SAA this year. The players at ESKOM this year will also have to settle for a paltry R5 billion, this time around.

Let’s face it, it’s not fair. Why should the cadres at SAA have R7 billion more to share than their counterparts at the SABC and ESKOM?  After all, the rules are the same. Get appointed, fly all over the world in business class, stay in 6-star hotels, throw as many gala bashes and banquets as you can and put pictures of yourselves up in the reception areas of your office complexes so that your staff and the security guys can recognise you when you do make an appearance at work every few months to award tenders to your dummy companies and family.

23 seasons in and the game hasn’t changed. Some boards manage to survive two years to have another bite at the cherry and slurp at the caviar – what admirable people. Most of the lesser contestants usually settle for just one year to make way for the next fresh crop of cadres lining up for their big payday – what unselfish, honourable office bearing good fellas they are – who said there isn’t honour among thieves?

Hell, they are such great sports that they even give the DA a good chance to demand that they all get fired – getting fired from these organisations is the best career move you can make. Well not exactly fired – suspended, with full pay, benefits and bonuses, pending an inquiry in 2069. The wheels of justice in South Africa are that swift and finely-tuned. Thank God we still have a judiciary left, depending on the judge selected to preside over your case. This satisfies the DA and once they have filed their motion in court, they swiftly lose interest in these upstanding public officials and leave them on the payroll, without any further bother. Where would this country be without the DA?

Sometimes you get lucky and have another crack at pot, even after the Attorney General finally gets around to auditing you and the DA files more court papers. Stick around for another year and take another crack at the Zama Zuma treasury trough.

I know I would, but they always reject my CV, even though I tell them I am a practising Zulu, but no matter how much time I spend working on my gumboot dance and suntan, they always fob me off.

They won’t even give me a chance for a day… that’s all I ask. Is that selfish of me? Hell, just give me a half-day. I need a new double-story mansion, private jet and 3000 cases of Johnny Blue Label really badly.

In fact, I reckon I could run all three of these fine “Proudly South African” brands, blindfolded, with both hands tied behind my back, more efficiently than the last 69 CEOs they have appointed since 1994. In fact, I believe that they need to appoint blind, deaf, limbless directors – I’ve had enough of this able-bodied imbalance against the alternatively-abled. Why don’t they ever get a look in? What blatant discrimination.

Don’t get me wrong here, I’m all for political-correctness and I’ve unselfishly decided to make it work for me. Therefore, I’ve decided to poke my eyes out, insert sosatie sticks into my ears to permanently render me hearing impaired and amputate all of my limbs and then turn gay to make sure, and then resubmit my CV as a transvestite Zulu.

If they turn my application down again, I’ll take them to the Human Rights Commission. We all know what a noble role they play in keeping a fair and equitable balance going on here in the Rainbow Nation. Where would the farmers in this country be without them?

On the other hand, maybe I’ll Winning-money.png simply keep my one-man protest up by always parking in the handicapped zone when I visit the mall… insanity is a vastly under-acknowledged handicap.

©Mayhemfiles2017

 

 

 

 

 

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THE MOGULS OF MAMMON

In the wake of hurricane Harvey an even bigger storm erupted – Joel Osteen’s refusal to open his megachurch up to house victims of the flood. Perhaps he forgot his credo – “the Lord loves a cheerful giver” – the one he used to build up his evangelical empire, making him one of the richest men in the world. The diatribe he so often preaches, from his beautifully adorned pulpit.

I don’t get the furore – I mean it was hardly a surprise. He has been preaching this mammon message in his megachurch for years, while just around the corner from its plush pews people huddle under a bridge for shelter, wondering where their next meal is coming from – not from Joel, that’s for sure. He’s got other things on his mind – his mega yacht, his mega wife, his mega bank account, his mega mansion, his mega ego and his mega greed. Hell he sells more CDs than Justin Bieber.

But let’s not judge him too harshly – he’s following the same formula for mega success as others before him have, the likes of Oral Roberts, the pioneer of tele-evangelism, whose orating soon built up a multi-million dollar empire, even with stiff competition from Jimmy Swaggart, another magnificent testimony to the inglorious profession of evangelism. Jimmy also had a fetish for another old profession – prostitution. The two professions are very similar in many ways, except the one is more honest than the other. No prizes for guessing which.

One of Jesus’ last deeds on earth was to forgive a prostitute. One of his most powerful sermons was about goats and sheep. Among the goats were the likes of these righteous rogues, who cried “But Lord, didn’t we preach your word? Didn’t we heal people and cast out demons in your name?” Jesus replied “Go away you evil doers. When I was hungry you did not give me food. When I was thirsty you did not give me drink. When I was a stranger you did not take me in. When I was naked you did not clothe me. When I was sick you did not visit me. When I was in prison you did not come to me.” And then they pleaded “but Lord when did we see you hungry, thirsty, naked and sick?” and Jesus replied “if you did it to the least of them, you did it to me.”

Bet you won’t hear his righteousness Osteen ever preach this parable from the resplendent pulpit he uses to prostitute the word of God for luxury and riches. Prostitutes sell their body – mega evangelists like Osteen, Hinn, Copeland, Crefo Dollar (what an apt name) and the likes of Angus Buchan and Ray McCauley right here in South Africa are going to find it a hell of a lot harder to be pardoned than any prostitute who has to sell her body to survive – they’ve sold their souls. Even Divine Brown, Jimmy Swaggart’s favourite trick and her pimp stand more chance of being forgiven than these repulsive mega nauseating cretins.

They even named a racehorse after her here in South Africa a few years ago. The commentator was very sharp that day, when asked about her chances – he replied; “We will have to see how she goes down, first.”

But returning to these moguls and the so-called “ministries” they advertise on social media in the name of the franchise holder. Ministries are the most profitable and successful franchises in the world today, their product, the Eternal Life policies (ELPs) they sell, is supplied free and they’re tax exempt too. Want to get rich fast? Start your own ministry franchise now and start selling ELPs.

Is it any wonder that there are so many atheists in this world? Atheism is no different. I also classify it as a religion, which incenses their congregation as much I have incensed Osteen’s here. Atheists have their own evangelists – Richard Dawkins, Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Lawrence M Krauss, Bill Maher – they are no better than the likes of Osteen, Dollar or Hinn. For me they will all end up in the same place – along with Hitler, Mugabe, Jacob Zuma, Pol Pot, Oprah and the entire Clinton, Bush and Kardashian families.

I look forward to meeting Devine Brown in heaven one day.

©Mayhemfiles2017

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AN INGENIOUS DISINGENUOUS PLAN – Part two

Over two thousand years Julius Caesar said that you can do anything to people so long as you keep them entertained. Today the same principle applies. Caesar used blood sport to fill the arenas. Today television, music, sport and movies do the job.

No matter what injustice occurs, it is forgotten when the next game kicks-off or the next season of Idols or some other sub-moronic retarded reality show like Survivor or The Bachelor starts. In fact people are so desperate to avoid reality that they’ll even watch MasterChef Bangladesh, with subtitles, to escape thinking. Never before in history has mankind been so immersed in superficiality and apathy.

But its sport that really tops it, because sport induces patriotism. Look at the stadiums filled with people with painted faces, proudly waving their flags while their country is falling apart. South Africa is a prime example of this syndrome.

It started when Nelson Mandela put on that green and gold rugby jersey back in 1995. It was a PR stunt that elevated him to sainthood and the world checked its brains out onto a flight to Lalaland.

We filled the stadiums, painted our faces and patriotically waved our flags and the world saw the ‘New’ South African miracle as beacon of hope for mankind. Worldwide, “The Rainbow Nation” was idealised. You couldn’t turn on a TV set without seeing some teary Hollywood star or Miss World contestant talking about “Madeebaa” inspiring them.

South Africa is the only country in the world where a corrupt thug, who evaded over seven hundred charges of fraud, can go on and become president – steal something worth fifty bucks from a supermarket and they put you in jail – steal billions from taxpayers and they make you President!

That’s why today we have a parliament full of unpunished criminals and thieves – at least two hundred of them. How do I come up with this figure you ask – remember Travelgate? Eighty-three members of parliament committed fraud, stealing millions from taxpayers, yet no action was taken against any of them. Add at least another hundred involved in the other corruption scandals swept under the red carpet like Oilgate, The Arms Deal and the never-ending tender corruption cases involving dozens more of our esteemed members of parliament.

Imagine an American president disbanding the FBI because it dared to investigate him for corruption? Do you think that the American public would have stood for it? Well, that’s what happened here when Jacob Zuma disbanded the Scorpions. Imagine a criminal like Bernie Madorff being allowed to walk free in the USA. Do you think that the American public would have stood it? Once again, that’s precisely what happened when Shabir Shaik walked free.

All we did was shrug our shoulders and have a gripe while turning our steak over on the fire and when the next Springbok game came along, we filled the stadiums and waved our flags again, like nothing had happened.

Two hundred unpunished criminals in government – no problem, the Springboks are playing Argentina on Saturday. Corrupt Judges exposed ten to the dozen – no problem, Sepp Blatter gave us nine-out-of-ten for the World Cup. Farmers being murdered at a rate that rivals casualty rates in Iraq and Afghanistan – no problem, Castor Semenya just broke the women’s four hundred meter record by three seconds and the men’s by one-and-a-half in the process.

Bob Dylan wrote the words – “Patriotism is the last refuge to which a scoundrel clings.” You’ve got to give it to our scoundrels – they’ve played this card to perfection over the past two decades – they know that all they have to do is keep the apathetic white, brain-drain remnants, entertained and they can do anything to them.

South Africa was the catalyst for the insane liberal agenda now sweeping Europe and the USA. It was the new world order’s show pony – it was held up as an example of how different races and cultures could integrate and embrace each other. The new South African story was the beginning of the fake news era and just about everyone in the world bought the bullshit, because Oprah, Bono and Desmond Tutu said so.

The role movie stars, pop stars and celebrities play is critical – people worship them. All you have to do is get them to endorse the fake cause, false narrative or fraudulent agenda and the numbskulls will fall for it. Its part of their job – look at what happens to celebrities who have come out in support of Donald Trump in the USA – all fired and their shows terminated by the globalist controlled television and movie studios. If don’t support the “we are all one, one world, open borders” atheistic narrative, you’re out.

Charlize Theron and Trevor Noah are two of the key celebrity sell-outs being used to conceal the truth about the fiasco that South Africa has become and the rest of the world will follow suite.

So far in this series we’ve covered two of the pillars of the 5 point plan to turn us into subservient, uninformed morons – education and entertainment – next we will look at the role of advertising. Stay tuned.

©Mayhemfiles2017

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AN INGENIOUS DISINGENUOUS PLAN – Part one

What is wrong with people? Why are 99% of them as clueless as a redneck at an art exhibition or a liberal in intelligent company?

I know why – they’re too into fast cars, fast Wi-Fi, fast food and fast remedies and idiotic gadgets – just the way the elite society of globalist controlling them want it, as they go about implementing their warped Aldous Huxley Brave New World plan.

It’s a plan that has been long in the making, but its well on track and has been gaining momentum fast since the dawn of the new millennium. It’s a simple, but very ingenious plan conjured by the disingenuous – you don’t need smart plans to outwit the dis-ingenious 99% mass living on this planet today. Here’s how it works:

  1. Educate them not to think for themselves.
  2. Distract them with plenty of entertainment.
  3. Bombard them with advertising to make them sick.
  4. Advertise the drugs that will make them feel better.
  5. Control the news they get to prevent them from realising this.

It all starts with twelve years of compulsory education, which is aimed at making people just smart enough to operate the machines, pack the shelves and dutifully take up their place in the worldwide distribution system, but not smart enough to question why or for what purpose or consequence. The singular purpose of education is to produce obedient, unaware and unwittingly complicit subjects.

All you have to do is take a look around you to see how wonderfully successful this plan has been. Of course the masses have been educated to dismiss such ideas as conspiracy theories.

In my days at school back in the seventies I soon became aware of the useless and retarded things they tried to cram into my head. Useless information that will never serve any practical purpose. For instance, who when speaking or writing thinks to themselves “which noun, verb, pronoun, adverb, adjective or preposition should I use in this sentence?” What the f…? Speaking of which, I bet you didn’t know that the unmentionable four letter word is the most versatile word in the English language. It falls into more grammatical categories than any other word.

As a transitive verb – “John f….d Shirley” and as an intransitive verb – “Shirley f…s”, but its meaning is not only limited to another unmentionable three letter word. The list of words you can’t say anymore because they may cause offence is growing by the day. But, I’m not through offending yet.

It can also be used as an adjective – “John’s doing all the f…..g work”, as part of an adverb – “Shirley talks too f……g much”, as an adverb enhancing an adjective – “Shirley is f……g beautiful”, as a noun – “I don’t give a f…” or even as part of a word – “abso-f…..g-lutely”. It can be used to describe disappointment – “I got f….d by that salesman”, dismay – “Aww f… it”, trouble – “I guess I’m really f….d now”, aggression – “don’t f… with me buddy”, difficulty – “I don’t understand this f…..g question”, inquiry – “who the f… was that?”, dissatisfaction – “I don’t like what the f….’s going on here”, and last but by no means least, my favourite dismissal to anyone I offend – “go f… yourself”.

Now apart from the obvious offensive repetition of the f-word, by today’s standard many of the examples stated above also constitute some kind of offensive gender and racial bias. For instance, I used the names Shirley and John in all of the examples – we all know that these are white heterosexual names, which causes blatant offence to people of colour and the LBGT community. A double gaffe – oh how ghastly of me.

I should rather have said “Jamal f.….d Freddie” to neutralise the gender and racial stereotyping. Notice I also said “John’s doing all the f…..g work” which is sexist. Well read my lips… I couldn’t give a used condom at a Gay Pride parade about SCOTUS. By the way, anyone ever notice how the words SCOTUS and scrotum are intermingled?

Before you dismiss me as a feelingless, uneducated cretin of a sociopath, let me tell you what I find offensive – children with minds as young as seven being “gender neutralised” and taught a pile of hogwash like humans coming from the ocean before they became bored with swinging from trees for millions of years and headed for the nearest shopping mall. The only evolution I see is entropy and the descent of humankind into a godless, genderless, cultureless, valueless, classless, identityless, clueless society.

Coming up in part two, I’ll deal with the role of entertainment in the rapidly approaching mayhem looming on the horizon for the Homo erectus species. Now, there’s a word I find offensive.

©mayhemfiles2017

drawing on paper by Laurie Lipton

 

 

 

An open letter to Donald Trump.

Dear Donald

I’m sure that you are aware that Julian Assange has been holed-up in the Ecuadorian Embassy in London since 2012.

Is he really an enemy to us? Correct me if I’m missing something here but, surely the people we elect and entrust to serve us openly and honestly, who end up withholding information from us, are more of an enemy, than a guy whose stated goal was to bring important news and information to us?

Hey, so maybe he fondled a couple of pairs of breasts along the way – if that’s a crime, I belong in Maximum Security. Fondling breasts – a crime – lying and suppressing information, not a crime?

You have had your share of fake news concocted against you by the Deep State/Globalist controlled mainstream media. Here’s an opportunity to really give them something to swallow. Pull a Monica Lewinsky on them and cut Julian a break.

WikiLeaks has released more than one million previously classified documents – more than the rest of world’s press put together, which to quote Julian “shows you the parlous state of the rest of the media. How is it that a team of five people has managed to release to the public more suppressed information, at that level, than the rest of the world’s press combined? It’s disgraceful.” Indeed it is Julian – almost as disgraceful as the public you tried to help, simply carrying on with their superficial lives in blissful ignorance, without a care in the world for price you are paying for trying to help them. That’s what I call a disgrace.

Pardon me for being so pushy, but pardon the man. After that, I’ll write to you about Edward Snowdon and Jacob Zuma.

 

NAUSEA RISING AND THE DEAFENING SILENCE

So the Spur has apologised for the way it handled the racial spat that went as viral as their salad bar does every time someone sneezes over it, vowing to “improve childminding” in their “Play Canyons”. I don’t know which part of their apology nauseated me most – the PC euphemisms or their cringingly patronising “apology”. What I do know is that the thought of ever patronising them again makes me cringe with nausea.

In fact, I haven’t been more nauseated since I heard the stewardess on an SAA flight, greeting passengers in all eleven official languages, before ending off her sickening diatribe with the most nauseating words I’ve ever heard – “Proudly South African”. What made it worse, was that this was shortly after they had renamed Johannesburg International Airport, O.R Tambo International Airport.

Before I could reach for the barf bag in the pouch in front of my seat, my travel partner, not known for his tact when it comes to expressing himself, came to my rescue when he shouted “O.R TAMBO SE MA SE P…”.

I nearly had a seizure – fortunately my seatbelt prevented me from falling out of my seat. Laughing at inappropriate times has always been a problem for me. That’s why I stay away from funerals and church services.

Spur and SAA are just the tip of the floating turd-berg that is “Big Business” in South Africa. Who can forget Engen and Woolworths’ brilliant “no whites” recruitment policies?

I have been scathing on the apathy of my fellow members of the Lost Tribe of South Africa in the past, but now it’s time to put our iconic “Proudly South African” multi-nationals under the spotlight. Their deafening silence has been bugging me for years. Not a murmur, not a word, amidst the tsunami of corruption we have been engulfed in since 1994.

The likes of PRIMEDIA, who own the sickening talk radio stations we have had to endure for decades, pouring out their insidious tripe, trying to put a sober cloak on the drunken havoc being wreaked by the Johnny Blue Label Club that has been looting the country, at will for the past 23 years.

Hey, but what about LEAD-SA some may cry? When I first heard 702 and 567 punting their LEAD-SA initiative, which called for “robust citizenship”, I thought “hello… ”, but that swiftly changed to “hell nooo…”, after I visited their website, vowing to quit drinking and ready to take up the challenge.

What a pile of apathetic, apologetic, ANC butt-kissing pish. Take a look at their list of their great achievements… I’ll save you the time – there are none. Oh, but wait, didn’t they initiate a campaign to make us aware of the importance of driving with our headlights on during the day? It was enough to drive me back to drink.

Which brings me to my next favourite “prrroudly SA” corporate giant – SAB-Miller, who continue to inflict their patronising “Rainbow Nation” advertising, depicting the country as one brimming with pride and camaraderie on us, ad-nauseam.

Give me a Heineken, Amstel, Windhoek or Stella Artois anytime. Give me a Castle and I’ll punch you in the face. I even have trouble restraining myself when I see someone buying that once proud brand, particularly when they’re wearing their Springbok jersey and you know what? I root for any side playing against a side sponsored by them – yes, even the pansy Proteas – even when they play Pakistan and even the Springboks – even when they play Japan.

Apart from Pat Symcox and Hansie Cronje and one or two others, post-94 South African cricketers have riled me no end, along with their bimbo groupies. I once had to ask my favourite restaurant in Cape Town, to relocate me from my regular table, to the smoking section, because I could no longer bear listening to these clones, with their designer shades on their foreheads, inflicting their shallow, bubble-gum advert, babble on me from the table alongside.

It was more nauseating than watching an episode of The Bold and The Beautiful or Isidingo. I swear, if I heard Jacques Kallis’ girlfriend say “Jacquee-poo” one more time, I would have either snapped or shat myself.

The bemused expression on their faces, when I loudly called the owner over and told him that I couldn’t bear the intrusion of their idiotic babbling any longer, was particularly satisfying. They gave me the most aghast fluoride stares I’ve ever seen. I gave them my “go screw yourself” stare, without making much of an effort to conceal my contempt.

Hell, I’m all for patriotism – when there’s something to be patriotic about. When big business grows some balls and backs a tax revolt, and the apathetic café society brigade realise that there’s more to life than updating their status and making a fashion statement, perhaps I’ll change my mind. Until then screw this deluded country – especially the cop-out big business corporates.

©Mayhemfiles2017

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THE IDES OF APRIL

Calamitus Necessaria Est… that’s my favourite Latin quip. If you don’t know what it means, don’t panic. It’s Latin for “disaster is inevitable”. Now you can panic…

That’s pretty much been my stock standard response to anyone I’ve met on my travels, when they ask me about the fool’s paradise I come from. The look of resigned and cynical indifference I’ve carried around with me for the past 23 years, whenever I utter that sentence, usually deters them from probing any further. Fools like their news to be either good or trivial.

On the rare occasions that some of them do venture to probe further, I like to tell them that in South Africa, April Fool’s Day is celebrated for the entire month, culminating with a huge amount of pomp, ceremony, Chivas and Caviar on the 27th, which they call “Freedom Day”, where a lot of obscenely obese people dance on stage and chant slogans to the illiterate masses, gorging on free Kentucky Fried Chicken. That one usually gets rid of them.

The news that one of the world’s biggest racketeers had reshuffled his cabinet in the late hours of the night, just 24 hours before April Fool’s Day, was greeted with the usual resigned, Calamitus Necessaria Est boredom, I’ve become so accustomed to.

I thought; “So now we have a new cabinet of crooked baboons. Perhaps this time, this country has finally gone to pot.”

The newspapers screamed the headline “Zuma’s State and Treasury Capture”. What crap – this state and treasury were captured a long time ago, when we, the citizens were tossed overboard back in 1994. The only thing that has changed, is that the Zulu’s have now purged the Xhosa’s, from the steal-as-much-as-you-can banquet hall in the Johnny Blue Label looter’s club. It’s like being in a 5-star casino, where all the machines and tables are rigged the other way around and the booze is free.

Later the very same day, the news broke that they had legalised pot. The symbolic irony wasn’t lost on me – within hours, this country had gone to pot, both literally and figuratively. The same day we hit a new low, it became legal to get high.

I haven’t had something to laugh so much about, in this miserable, mediocrity ravaged country, since the fake sign interpreter at the Nelson Mandela Memorial in 2013, the discovery of Homo Naledi in 2015 and former Minister of State Security, Siyabonga Cwele’s wife, Sheryl, getting bust running an international drug smuggling racket, right alongside him in bed, which he claimed he knew nothing about. Naturally, a man of such integrity didn’t need to undertake a polygraph test – for goodness sake he was, and still is, an esteemed member of the cabinet and doing a mighty fine job as Minister of Post and Telecommunications, despite his lack of state security skills.

Many people are superstitious about the Ides of March – not me. April makes me far more nervous – things often get very stupid in this country during April. It’s been a tradition since 27 April 1994.

I didn’t have to wait too long. It took just 7 days for the next reading on the stupidity seismograph to register…

Some of the people here decided to take to the streets with banners and flags – much like the Democrats in the USA have been doing, every day, for the past five months, since Donald Trump became POTUS. However, here, Democrats are not nearly as motivated their USA namesakes. Here, the protest against the POSA simply involved putting on a designer pair of sunglasses, packing some mineral water and snacks into your snazzy daypack and taking selfies of yourself protesting, until your snacks ran out, whereupon you headed to the nearest tavern or your favourite café deck, to sip sundowners and celebrate your “big one day stand”, against tyranny.

POSA was swift to shrug these protests off. Seems it’s going to take more than a street carnival to get his attention. When it comes to ignoring things flat, our man Jacob has no peers apart from Robert Mugabe. What do you do when you get bust on 783 fraud charges? You simply ignore them until they go away. And people actually think that a march is going to have any effect?

Besides, he’s probably got more important things like “Freedom Day” to prepare for. By now he won’t have to rehearse the speech that has served him so well since 2009, but he might want to rehearse his freedom songs and dance routine. Perhaps he will even introduce some new material into his act this year. Let’s face it, after eight years the show is losing a bit of its fizzle… sort of like A Dinner for One on New Year’s Eve did, and The Rainbow Nation has after 23 years.

I’m twixt and between as to what I’ll watch on 27th… the usual ritual idioting on stage, or the march carnival that the country’s diligent tax payers are planning for the same day.

©Mayhemfiles2017

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