I received a little love-card from the gubmint yesterday.
It was my final reminder to pay the Property Tax. That’s a bit fucking rich sending a “final reminder” as it’s the first I have heard from them.
What interested me about it was that it listed all the things the tax is to pay towards. Apparently it is to pay for all my essential local services, and it is even nice enough to list them for me:
Public Parks. Hah! The nearest public park to here is in Skobieville. At this time of year don’t go looking for daffodils as you are more likely to find a grand display of used condoms. empty beer cans and a shed load of hypodermic needles [or hypodemic nerdles as Herself calls them]. So they can scratch that.
Libraries. OK. I’ll concede that libraries are an excellent resource and I am a lifelong lover and user. I am more than willing to pay per loan of a book as I think that would be money well spent. I will only concede to a payment if I pay them directly though.
Open spaces and leisure amenities. What? This is the fucking countryside where it’s all open spaces, and all of them are owned by farmers. What the fuck are they on about here? Leisure amenities? The pub? What?
Planning and Development. Sweet Jayzus but this is getting worse. What am I supposed to be paying for here? I have had a few dealings with the local planning crowd and they charged me through the fucking nose for that. I’m not going to pay twice. I’m surprised they mention that as I would have thought it’s a bit of a tricky subject at the moment. Heh!
Fire and emergency services. Fuck off. They already charge per call out. It would be cheaper to let the house burn down.
Maintenance and cleaning of streets. OK. I have nearly stopped laughing. Maintenance of my street? My fucking “street” has more fucking potholes in it that the surface of the fucking moon. We recently had a query from the Irish Caving Club wanting permission to explore some of our potholes. The council “maintain” it by turning up every couple of years and dumping a barrow of asphalt into the nearest hole and then buggering off again. As for cleaning – the laughter has just given me a stitch in my side.
Street lighting. Yes. We do have a street light. Just the one. It stands out there each night burning electricity and creating a tiny puddle of light. They can take it away for all I care. I always bring a hand lamp in the dark anyway. It’s the fucking countryside for God’s sake, not the fucking suburbs.
So that’s it. That’s their list of things I am supposed to be paying for.
I am not impressed.