I have already given over 90% of my life to machines, which tell me when to eat, sleep, and brush my teeth (they don't brush them for me -- yet), populate spreadsheets for me and send e-mails while I sleep, and facilitate no coins or printed money ever passing these hands. Unfortunately, the tax sheet, particularly the US one, is a laughable 100s of pages, the kind of thing that seems deliberately sadistically designed: "Column A65? You'll have to file Form B-42, unless you are an S99 entity, in which case you need to ask at Window B6 for the BLUE form, on which you should check Box 4 of every odd-numbered page, unless you are type O negative blood of it is a full moon, in which case you will need the BLACK form, unlocked only by beating level 99 of the negative world and pressing up, up, down, down, a, b, select start and drawing a pentagram on the floor with blood drawn from your pinky finger using Pricking Shard B-62, available at the DMV upon presentation of a Light Motor Vehicle License."
In my opinion all of this shit should be given to CPAs, the more the better, so they can collect their nasty fees and leave you with precious time in this short life to do anything other than trying to beat level 99 of the negative world, which is really hard on account of the jumping Koopa-Troopas.
David, one of the many hats I wear, in addition to Tyrolean hats with feathers in them and beer hats with curly straws, is copywriter and extreme text producer extraordinaire, churning out 100s and 100s of pages daily for man, woman, and beast, from stick-on eyelashes for teens to research reports for think tanks. Do not hesitate to contact me for all of your text-churning needs. In fact, I am in the midst of a nice little bout of tendonitis brought on by extreme computing. I didn't use my special ergonomic stenographer's keyboard for a week and I am suffering the consequences. But no, not advertising per se, I think that's rather a low bar. Writing two lines for a box of cereal is a cheap trick.
When I read this I can't figure out when you would ever need to wear a tie? Videochats? (No, not the nude ones).