A Pot in Every Garage
I’m Art Kumbalek and man oh manischewitz what a world, ain’a? And yes sir, happy days are soon to be here once again for me, the first happy day commencing Wednesday, Nov. 9, a day I’d like to believe that I will receive not a nary one robo-loco phone call from some Republican Party minion asking me to support their radical-fruitcake anti-truth-and-common-sense agenda.
Cripes, the GOP tying up my telephone to ask me for my vote is like somebody calling up noted astrophysicist Stephen Hawking to peddle him a pair of Shake Weights. Forget about it. Neither one of us got the time nor patience for dumbbells. Life’s too short, I kid you not.
Listen, last weekend when the kids came by my place for trick-or-treat, instead of handing out some focking candy, I passed out useful advice, like “Never, ever mix good booze with soda” and “Get a job and buy your own focking candy.”
So what the fock, with a big-time scary National Election Day right around the intersected corner of “Do or Die,” I’ve got some advice for the American electorate whose trick-or-treat experience comes next Tuesday, Nov. 8. One word for you’s:
Got it? No excuses. Vote for the knoblin of your choice. And what the fock, if you’re out of work it’ll give you something to do. And don’t forget, voting won’t cost you a dime—yet. Of course, if big business and rich guys keep getting away without paying taxes, it’s only a matter of time ’til they’ll slap a user fee on the ballot box (and an extra charge for your voter-registration license), and the more dough you can shell out, the more times you get to vote. God bless America.
So vote now while it’s still focking free and open to any Tom, Dick or Dickless from sea to shining sea, ’cause I’m Art Kumbalek and I told you so.