How To Not Pay Or File Taxes For 12 Years
So far, you have heard about a good bit about my life and especially my keen abilities when it comes to earning, spending and losing millions of dollars – more than once. I know there is a medal or something I should get for this skill. Maybe I could market it, and I could be a millionaire!
*Cue the dream sequence of me lounging in money, and thinking nothing of it.*
I know what you are thinking, or if not, let me give you an idea of what you should be thinking.
“Andrew, all of this money is great and all, but what about the taxes you owe? Didn’t you pay your taxes on the income?”
Once again fair reader, grab a beverage, kick back and prepare yourself. It is time for another install of
Andrew: How To Become Insanely Wealthy But A Royal Screwup At The Same Time Or Something Along Those Lines; Use Your Imagination.
As a reminder about this particular time in my life, I am 18/19 years old. I am a millionaire. I have absolutely ZERO concept of money, money management, finances and anything to do with money outside of spending it with wanton abandon.
I mean, what could possibly go wrong? I have millions. I am rich. I am invincible. I am
not paying income tax.
“You don’t pay taxes. They take taxes.”
– Chris Rock
Really. Who is the I.R.S. to me? I have never had a job before, and I certainly did not (nor does anyone else for that matter) understand taxes. Still don’t. This all begs the next obvious question, which I shall ask on your behalf:
“Andrew, when was the last time you actually paid taxes,” you, the dear, dear reader inquire, quizzically.
*Dramatic pause* *Wide grin*
“What year is it,” I ask, knowing the answer but being slightly (read: quite) coy and looking for something not quite shock value but not quite being a smart a$$ either.
“2019? The last time I paid – 2007? I think? Twelve years ago,” I answer, looking to the sky wistfully while keeping an eye on you to remember your facial expression when I need something to smile about in the future.
About 12 years ago was the last time I actually paid, yes; paid, proper income tax to the federal government and to the state government. Remember; I was living outside of Denver at this time. Colorado has a state income tax.
I mean, I had an accountant. He did my returns for 2005, 2006 and 2007. It is not like I did not completely not pay taxes. I am a red-blooded American after all.
The accountant/accountants/accounting firm, I don’t remember, it has been 12 years and a copious amount of drugs and alcohol ago, set me up in an S-Corporation for the tax benefits. The name of said corporation?
Thompson & Executives, Inc.
See how fancy I was? I had executives! And an Inc.! Do you have executives and an Inc.? Probably not. Neener, neener. (Side note: You can set up your own S-Corp in about 15 minutes on the Internet with a bit of basic information, including how to fill out a form and submit it. But, I wanted to seem fancy and all.)
The entire purpose of the S-Corp was to prevent me from being charged self-employment tax at my full amount I had earned that year. This was a lot of money when you are bringing home around 100K a month. The total was in the ball park of 2.5 million. After all, what is tens of thousands matter at this point?
As memory serves, and the server is drunk, the room is spinning, the tray is all lopsided, and there is a tornado, (This should give you an idea of my memory – booze, drugs and women will do this to you), it was in November 2005. I had switched to Yahoo ads. My income jumped from about $200.00/day to its apex of $10,000.00/day.
*Begin Side Note*
Yahoo and Google had something called ‘NET 45’ (a 45 day payout). This means after a full calendar month’s passing, November 1 – 30 that I would get my first physical check – approximately January 15th. The check came on the 10th.
*End Side Note*
That check was substantial. You can read about it in this chapter of my blog, a little less than ½ way through it. While you are there, read the whole blog. Again. Or for the first time. Just read the blog, okay? For that matter, read all of the blogs. Starting at the beginning. Go to the end. Thanks. Bye-bye. Go take a bath now. Well, not now. Read the blog first. And not in the bathtub.
Did I mention I have uncontrolled, severe ADHD? I didn’t? I have uncontrolled, severe ADH – Hey! Squirrel!
I don’t remember how much I owed *shooes squirrel back outside*. I will find the returns and post them if and when I find them. I did, however, write a check to the I.R.S. for $340,000.00 and one to Colorado for $60,000.00.
Thus, again, dearest reader, the last time I paid taxes was 2007.
12 years ago.
The I.R.S. sent me a thank you letter in the form of a bill, saying I still owed $56,000.00.
Jump forward a few years. It is 2010. All of what I had from MySpace is gone. (*Hands you a towel.* Did you read the blog first?)
I get another nice piece of paper from the I.R.S. This one a federal tax lien on my credit.
<Image Coming Soon>
There was not much to do at this point but laugh about this. Credit? What credit? The credit I had (Boy, I like that word) was shot. Well, not shot. It was drug outside, stomped into mud, dried out, stomped a second time, run over with a steamroller, had no less than six different clerics of various religions come and hex it, shot, resurrected and THEN shot.
One would think the I.R.S. would put a lien against something with value, like my house. My house that already had a second mortgage and in which I was terribly upside down. (Upside down – you owe more than what it is worth. Car commercials sneak in the words “negative equity may be refinanced” at the end of the commercial fast and when you can barely hear it. This means you owe more on the car than its value. Again – you learn something new. Have a cookie. After you finish drying off.)
Remember, in case you don’t; let me remind you:
This was funny.
What could the I.R.S. realistically do to me? I was in foreclosure, unemployed (not that I ever have been), no money, a dream – beModel and in a home waiting for the bank to auction it off and send me an eviction notice.
That never happened.
The house was in foreclosure for about two to three years. The bank never took steps to take it. Why? Damifino. I could be because of the Great Recession. It could be because they were busy. Who cares?
We will come back to the house at another time.
It is also this time in my life when I was in a serious depression. I knew I was as well. Here is the blog about it, just in case you still have not read it. Do so; pre or post bath. (I swear. That is the last bath joke.)
Looking back now, 10 years later, it appears to be less of an issue of depression and more of an issue of a 23 year old, completely broke, living in a mansion in foreclosure and under the impression the I.R.S. was sure to bust in and raid me, which, I hoped, would go over as well as this one.
Seriously. Listen to me a second.
The I.R.S. is no joke. They will raid anyone.
So, I have the I.R.S. in the back of my mind, next to the squirrel (told you no more bath jokes), and no clue on how to deal with this.
I thought about bankruptcy, talked it over with an attorney but did not pull the trigger. Why?
Because, I am Andrew Fashion – The Renovatio.
I would get out of this. I would make my millions again. I would pay off the I.R.S., get my house out of foreclosure and be Scarlet O’Hara! (Minus the dress, loss of a plantation home, post Civil War and the fact she is a woman, of course.)
This brings me to my second round of millions earned.
LIVING LA VIDA DARKA (I don’t know Spanish.)
A friend has an idea. Most of my friends and their ideas are not what you think. These ideas actually make sense.
He mentions how we can make serious coin on the Dark Web.
This particular point in my saga was likely not exactly what you would consider legal. I am not going to post anything about this point until I have consulted an attorney. The Dark Web is, well, dark. I will say nothing further about it.
How are we going to make that money? With a little something called Bitcoin. Remember: I am a technophile (Tech lover. Stick around; you will learn some fancy words.) I managed to understand Bitcoin and its nuances within a month.
My buddy and I started converting.
This is the concept that earned me three million instead of two. This time around.
So. We are in 2010. The money is there, coming in but not at the level we are seeking. It would make sense to put some money aside for taxes and pay taxes.
2010 comes and goes.
2011 – Taxes? What are these taxes you speak of, comrade? Use your imagination.
2012 – Bitcoin is rocking. I am making money. Taxes? You are funny.
One thing I did do, which I touched on in a blog (No bath joke) was buy a Bentley. A used one, mind you. It was only $120,000.00. How? I pulled cash out using Bitcoin money.
“Huh? How did you do that,” I hear you asking.
All in due time, precious reader. All in due time. Meanwhile, just … you know … just … be.
Lookie there. It is 2013! I get a nice letter from the I.R.S. This is a summons letter. Getting one of these is like pulling the black spot and marked slip at the same time.
I also get a nice phone call.
Pause with me a moment. I want you to step out of yourself and the bathroom (Sorry! I really tried!) and become me. Here is what you are now doing:
1. Constantly glancing behind you for earning cash in a questionable fashion; 2. Worried that if caught, I could face time in a federal pen; 3. Worried about going to federal prison for not paying taxes. This is, after all, how they caught Al Capone.
If you ever questioned why or how I became an alcoholic – here are three pretty valid reasons. Well, not valid, as alcoholism is not a joke. But when you are 23 and in my situation, it was an outlet.
“Andrew. You boob. Why didn’t you just quit,” you ask.
You should know me well enough by now that 1. That is preposterous and 2. I have something to say about it.
It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor.
All I needed was one more dollar, and I would be good. You know who else that says they just need one more of something?
Addicts. Addicts who are hopelessly addicted to drugs, alcohol, gambling – you name it. They will stop after the next one. Just one more fix. Google the lyrics. I have eclectic musical tastes.
I also suffer from verbal diarrhea. I cannot shut up. Until I come to my senses.
I am in deep. Too deep. I need some help before things get really bad.
I speak to some of my fellow rich friends. They put me in contact with a tax attorney.
I mean, a serious tax attorney.
I found one.
Armenian. From Glendale, Calif. He was the epitome of this guy but a tax attorney.
I will say this. Cuz did some serious voodoo tax magic Jedi mind trick stuff because my name was cleared from the summons, and the issue – dropped.
Till this day, I do not know what the (insert expletive of disbelief here) he did or said to clear my name from the summons, but it was dropped.
If for some odd reason you have no life or are interested in taxes, check this movie on Youtube. The part you want is at the one hour, six minute mark. You, personally, may find this more entertaining. I, on the other hand, live for this sort of thing.
It is this part of this movie that I have used to justify my stance on not paying taxes. It seems to be a more valid excuse than just simply not doing it out of spite or to be hateful.
It is 2019. I still have ZERO idea on what that attorney did, how he did it or anything outside of the fact it cost me about $15,000.00 to clear my name and field phone calls from the lovely I.R.S. agent.
2013 comes; passes.
2014 comes; gotta talk a second.
By now, I have learned my lesson, straightened up my life, got a real job and settled down into a life of absolute 100 percent normalcy.
2014, I had enough of Bitcoin. The stress was too much at this point. I got tired of looking like this.
And! Guess what happened! Again!
You likely know! I am going to tell you anyway! I feel like being excited! I have had entirely too much coffee!
I went broke.
2014 passes; 2015 strolls in.
I meet Stephen. You should know that story.
By the way, still no taxes since 2012.
2016 – We Evolve. Stephen and I.
Taxes and I are the equivalent of any of these choice videos.
2017 slides its way in. One thing I am, if nothing else, is quite lucky. I mean, so fricking fortuitous that I should be in: 1. Jail; 2. Rehab; 3. Coffin.
Here is what happened: The federal tax lien is gone. As in no longer there, disappeared. I swear – I felt like these dogs.
Keep in mind, I still have not filed since 2013, and it is now 2017. Perhaps I should send the I.R.S. a thank you card for lifting the lien and graciously not coming after me for the last five years.
Before I know it, 2018 arrives – fresh and new – for some people.
2018 is when I crashed, hard. This is when I nearly lost Sage, got hooked on meth and became a full on addict. Yeah; it was that bad. It was so bad that I don’t have a nifty video to link for it. There is only one thing to do.
Road Trip! China seems like a good idea.
I need a passport. I was leaving the next day for China. I return where I applied, wait in line and get called up.
I do not get my passport. I get a letter.
The I.R.S. – remember them – they remembered me.
So, I panic. Then remember, again, who I am. I am the Renovatio.
I am going to: 1. Get over it; 2. Find someone to fix the tax problems; 3. Pay the damn things.
I call the I.R.S. and give them the voluminous amount of information they need. (Which amounts, basically to my S.S.N. However, if you want to fight them, like this wonderful lady, that is a completely different story. Read the entire story, and see what she went through.))
I have a problem. Surprisingly.
The I.R.S. “lost” 2008. Years 2013 – 2017 had to be filed. Strange; I made no money in 2008, but somehow, this did not matter.
The six years of unfiled taxes, on the other hand, came to an impressive $230,000.00 plus interest. I did math. In my head. Here is what I realized:
I put a lot of money into the bank. I figured 35 percent of what I put in would be between 200 and 300k. I put likely one to two million into the bank in those years. The rest of the money was Bitcoin.
I called tax attorneys. I got two answers: I can compromise; I cannot compromise. What I could do is something called OIC – Offer-in-Compromise, which, of course, is what the I.R.S. wants you to do. (Remember the nurse from above – they don’t like being stood up against or caught with their metaphorical pants down or up – depending on how you like to wear pants.)
The document, the OIC, is about 30 pages – short by I.R.S. standards. The least expensive attorney I could find was about $15,000.00, plus the $50,000.00 I would owe the I.R.S. on top of it.
And, I get a phone call. From the passport place.
My passport is ready. I do another one of these. I freaked to start with. I knew it was a setup, a scammer and my mind split into a whole bunch of ways (You know, I could dig and find a crap-ton of links from Youtube to express how I would feel, but I don’t wanna. Just imagine.) I need my passport, so off I go.
I get my passport. It is an actual passport – with my picture and everything!
Then, I get a letter from the I.R.S., and you know how much fun these can be. This letter, however, was – different.
This is what the letter basically said: Your metaphorical posterior is no longer braising in thermodynamically enhanced Dihydrogen monoxide. (Translation: Dear taxpayer, your a$$ is no longer in hot water.)
This action would take effect within 30 days time.
This makes about as much sense as change for a penny. Did the statute of limitations pass?
I called the I.R.S. – again. I wanted to do what was right, file the OIC, get a payment plan and put this tax issue behind me.
The I.R.S. says the missing years were filed on my behalf. I denied it; they didn’t.
The I.R.S. wrote me off as no income in those years and sold my debt to a private collection agency.
This sounds like a bad thing. It is not. Here is why: 1. I am caught up on my tax issues with the I.R.S.; 2. All I need to do is file properly, which I will do; 3. A private collection agency is much easier to deal with than the I.R.S.
Now. The last question you have is likely this:
“Andrew, where in the world are you now?”
I wave to you from somewhere in Asia. Probably Vietnam at this point.
So. What is my point in this particular piece?
Well, a few things, actually. Like everything I have tried to get you to understand, I am trying to keep YOU from making the same mistakes I have. Here is how.
I did not do much to avoid taxes. It just happened;
You will likely be safe if you screw up a tad, just not to the degree that I did.
People have asked me plenty of times about taxes and if they stood a chance of getting in trouble. My answer: I cannot guarantee that you will not. I can guarantee your situation is not as serious as some.
You may land a tax lien. You may also be bitten by a shark in Illinois.
I have been there. My bank accounts were garnished more by the State of California than the I.R.S. Strangely, the I.R.S. never touched anything of mine. This does not mean you should think the I.R.S. is going to let you slide, but that the state tax office and system may be much more severe.
Finally, I do not recommend you do what I did. I do recommend you watch the Zeitgeist movie. There is a wealth of information there. I mean, you are coming to me and reading up on things. You obviously think I am somewhat of a source of information. Leverage this for your benefit.
As for me now, my Pho is getting cold; there is a country to explore for @gypsee.travel; my time in the country is limited.