AN OPEN LETTER TO THE COUNTY OF BOULDER, CO:

Dudes.

My nose has begun to bleed. I am trying to wipe it discreetly, but I can't really leave my polling both – that would be too conspicuous. I contemplate ripping off a tiny piece of my ballot aand shoving it up my nose to stem the rising flood of red indignation.

My nose is bleeding, Colorado, and it's because of you. You seem to understand me okay on this first page of questions ... who should be governor, who should be county commissioner, who should be the chief of police? I have opinions. I have a voice.

But, Colorado, why are you asking me who should be county coroner?

Boulder, I think it's only fair to announce that you've herniated me.

First off, I am not dead, and therefore not one of the county coroner's constituents. If anything, you should setting up a crackerjack team of Oujia boardists to hold an all-dead election just for this guy.

Secondly, Colorado. Why. WHY. WHY would it matter to me whether my coroner is Democratic or Republican or Libertarian or Jewish? Why am I voting the party line for a man whose job is effectively to poke a dude in the face and say, “Yeah. He's dead.”? Call me a dreamer, but I'd like to believe a man's competence in spotting deadness is in no way corellated to his political beliefs.

So guess what, Colorado? When I bleed to death from the aneurism you just gave me, I will be interested to know all the details of the coroner-election. Until such time as I am not-breathing, however, I shall continue to itierate: what the fuck.

THOUGHTS ON REFERENDUM GET-THE-HELL-OFF-MY-PROPERTY:

What do you call it when your kidney gives out every two weeks, leaving you with an emply bottle of apple brandy, a head full of unwanted memories, and an insatiable urge to pee?

You call it the retribution of your body for years of arrogant carelessness; you call it irony; you call it Reason # 42 to wear a diaper – or you call it a challenge.

What, kidneys? You think I can't survive without you? You think my body can't filter the waste from my blood on its own? You think I would collapse and die a horrible toxic death involving lots of foam and screaming?

Well, I got news for you, kidneys.

That's what Mexicans are for.

That is why today I voted “No” on the Colorado measure that would enable the state government to bring suit against the Feds for letting in too many of the Great Brown Unwashed. Seriously, Colorado. What is your ass thinking? Mexico is like a giant organ farm ripe for the plucking, and you have the world's entire fruit-plucking workforce right there to help. A man with a few syringes, some ice, and a dream ... that is all I and Colorado need.

So don't build fences, Colorado – build gigantic walk-in freezers. You'll need them where my kidneys are going.