Jack Kukoda

Hey kids, it’s me, Radical Jack. And I’m here to tell you how awesomely cool voting is! Man, voting is like a a vert ramp, a Hot Pocket, and an Xbox all rolled into one! So get out there and do your cool civic duty by voting.

I won’t be voting today, unfortunately, as convicted felons are not allowed to vote in this state. Actually, convicted felons can vote, but thrice-convicted felons cannot. How did I end up getting convicted of three felonies? Well, there’s no easy answer. Actually, there is: drugs. More specifically, Franzia Dust. That’s angel dust mixed with box wine. Sweet Christ on a cracker, I cannot control myself when it comes to the Franzia Dust. I’ve lost count of the number of relationships and furniture I’ve destroyed when that demon gets a hold of me.

But I haven’t lost count of the felonies I’ve commited. That number is three. And that’s very easy to remember because I have to wear three different ankle bracelets that track my every move. If I want to go to the store just to buy nachos, I’ve got to notify like a billion federal agencies. But does that stop me from buying nachos? Shit no, homes. You’d have to saw my legs off to keep me from buying nachos. Speaking of which, one of the crimes I’m accused of committing is threatening to saw the legs off of my neighbor because he refused to turn his stereo down. Don’t worry, I didn’t actually do it. The police came before I could break into his apartment. It’s actually a funny story. Turns out his stereo wasn’t on at all. But I had been up snorting Franzia Dust for three days straight and was convinced that he was playing Frank Zappa at ungodly levels.

Anyway, the point of all this was to tell you to vote. I won’t tell you which party to vote for, but I do recommend voting NO on Proposition 219, which would prevent thrice-convicted felons from renting cars. If that shit gets passed, I’ll never see Montreal in Autumn. Keep Hertz alive.