One-Two Punch of IRS Audit Gambits Has Me Reeling

Sunday On Friday, Dr. Bill Skinner, my wizard physician, gave me a flu shot with a needle that looked like a pneumatic hammer topped by the Chrysler Building. He did his usual fine job, but I have been woozy ever since. Dazzled. That night, my pal Judah and I went down to Koreatown for barbecued beef. We sat next to a mixed-up group, mixed in every maddening way, a group that was competing to see if they could be the most noisy, infuriating neighbors in any restaurant. I really could see how people murder complete strangers. Yesterday, I spent all