Every year I have such good intentions of voting. Really. I have this little person sitting on my shoulder, we'll call him Voting Victor, that reminds me how lucky I am to have the opportunity, because people in other places in the world walk 20 miles and wait in line for three days just to speak their mind. Me? I just have to check some boxes on an absentee ballot that already arrived, walk 20 feet to the mailbox, and tell the government my every wish. Well, except for that one about the bathtub full of chocolate pudding. I mean, I could tell them that one, but it would be a write-in I suppose, since I didn't see it on the ballot anywhere. Then again, there was that year when my absentee ballot arrived in Chinese, maybe the Pudding Prop was on that one.
Anyhow, as I said, I always psych myself up to vote, because voting is important!, and part of my civic duty, and all that... but then the voters guide arrives in the mail, and this little person on my other shoulder, we'll call her Fuhggetaboudit Fergie, starts wailing and screaming as soon as I open it up. I mean really, can't the thing have a few comics, an entertainment section, maybe a sudoku stuck in there somewhere? It's so boring I lose the will to vote before I've made it through the first rebuttal of the argument against Prop 1 about whether or not they should pass a law allowing them to rewrite an amendment to the ratified code index veto adding a $0.25 tax to Q-tips to fund field trips for inner-city vegans.
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