You might be seeing that leopard fannypack and that green sloth coat at a yard sale in front of Dionne Warwick’s house sometime soon, because the IRS has got her number, hussy, and that number is $10.7 million. The L.A. Times says that Cousin Dionne wishes she had Lindsay Lohan’s tax problems and the only way to pull her 72-year-old ass out from under the mountain of late payment notices from the IRS is to file for bankruptcy.
Dionne’s rep says that she owes the IRS and the California Franchise Tax Board millions of dollars for taxes, late fees and interest, and she tried to work out some kind of payment plan with them, but they gave her a thumbs down and so she filed for bankruptcy in her home state of New Jersey. Dionne makes $20,950 a month and her expenses are $20,940 (including $4,000 to her assistant and $5,000 for housekeeping), so she’s only got $10 leftover to pay the IRS. Dionne claims she only makes $1000 a month in in music royalties. Dionne’s rep blamed her accountants for “negligent and gross financial mismanagement.”
First of all, why didn’t one of Dionne’s Psychic Friends tell her that her accountants were being gross and mismanaging her cash? That way she could’ve went on over there, pulled off her house slipper and handled them? Second of all, why does she need to spend $5,000 a month on housekeeping? Dionne can buy a broom at the Dollar Tree and sweep her own damn carpet. (Side note: Even though we had a vacuum, my abuelita insisted on sweeping the carpet and she’d never use a dustpan. She’d sweep all the dirt out the front door. It was probably a Catholic thing.)
Poor Cousin Dionne. Now I can’t talk shit about her for taking part in this fucked up foolery with that low-rent Rebecca Black wannabe.
A check is a check even if the check is signed by an auto-tuned fetus.