opinion
Expunction Expo: Because Even Redemption Needs a Gimmick
Travis County’s new *Expunction Expo* promises to wipe your slate clean—because nothing says "justice" like turning legal redemption into a bureaucratic carnival.

Published November 24, 2025 at 2:14pm

Ah, the sweet, sweet sound of bureaucracy at work—Travis County has rolled out its very own Expunction Expo, because nothing says "second chance" like turning legal redemption into a goddamn county fair. That’s right, folks, if you’ve ever been nabbed for, say, protesting a pipeline or getting a little too rowdy at a punk show (allegedly), now’s your chance to scrub it clean like a bad tattoo you got at 3 a.m. behind a Whataburger.
This isn’t just any old paperwork purgatory—oh no. This is an expo. Because what better way to make the soul-crushing process of navigating the legal system feel fun than slapping a carnival-esque name on it? Step right up, get your records wiped! Cotton candy not included, but hey, at least you won’t have to explain that misdemeanor to your future landlord.
And let’s talk about the fine print, because of course there’s fine print. Did you get convicted? Tough luck, buddy. The system’s got a memory like an elephant with a grudge. But if you slipped through the cracks—maybe the cops lost the paperwork, or the DA had bigger fish to fry—congrats! You’ve won the bureaucratic lottery. Now you just need to jump through a few more hoops, prove you’re worthy of this magnanimous act of erasure, and voilà—your past is as clean as a freshly pressure-washed sidewalk.
Best part? Volunteer lawyers will graciously help you file the paperwork—because nothing says "justice" like relying on the kindness of overworked, underpaid legal aid to undo the system’s own mess. It’s like if your landlord set your apartment on fire and then offered to help you fill out the insurance claim. How generous.
So mark your calendars for February 28, 2026—because nothing says "fresh start" like waiting three years for the privilege of begging the government to pretend you never existed in their database. Welcome to the future, where even redemption comes with a waiting list. Punk’s not dead, but your criminal record might be—if you’re lucky.
