LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, I'm pretty fascinated with next year's presidential election. We've got a compelling cast of characters, no clear frontrunner, and a shifting political scene that pits the burgeoning interests of millennials against the baby boomers as they enter their autumn years.

Now, folks, I'm a pretty big idiot when it comes to political things. (I mean, I'm a pretty big idiot in general—I just ate an entire bag of "Haunted Ghost Pepper" tortilla chips, because the only thing that soothed the terrible burn of the first chip was the temporary relief of the second chip, which also turned into a punishing burn that could only be relieved by a third chip, except that third chip was a Trojan Horse of comfort [a Trojan Horse that disguised still more awful, scalding evil]. It was after the third chip that I succumbed to my fate. My brain chemistry had been changed. The ground beneath my feet shifted, my reality augmented. I was a junkie now... a real deal junkie. My prior existence as an independent being capable of critical thought sparked only momentarily—like a dying lighter incapable of holding a flame—in between all-consuming moments of excruciating scorch and fleeting placidity from the fucked duality of the Halloween-themed "Haunted Ghost Pepper" tortilla chips my friend Justin brought into the office today.)

Now, whether you're a liberal or a conservative, you've got some choices to make heading into primary season. Are you an idealist or a pragmatist? Are you a single-issue voter or do you consider a candidate's entire portfolio of opinions? And hey—just where the heck are all these politicians getting their money from anyway? (This isn't how I wanted to spend my day... hoping I haven't caused irreparable damage to my tongue. It's been half an hour since I ate those chips, and it's still burning. What sick fuck thought these chips were a good idea? An entire novelty bag of chips? An entire full-sized bag, okay? Not a fun-sized one—this is a big bag of chips. You know what's fun? Those bottles of hot sauce where it's like, "Watch out! We've decorated the bottle with fire trucks or a cool anthropomorphic wolf who wears sunglasses, or like, nuclear weapon imagery." Because it's like, yeah, of course I'm not going to use any of this hot sauce. I'm going to keep it in my kitchen cupboard and pack it up and unpack it every time I move until the day I die. Those hot sauces are a gift from an uncle who visited Albuquerque for work. A bag of chips, though, is supposed to be consumed! It expires! Why the fuck would anyone make chips like this? This isn't fun, spooky Halloween stuff, this is depraved, fucked-up Saw movie franchise Halloween stuff. I hate this. Fuck Halloween. Fuck this whole week. Fuck chips, man. Fuck.)

Look, no matter what happens, I just hope a good man—OR WOMAN!!!!—ends up in the White House, and that's my two cents. @IanKarmel