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June 14, 2007

Why I think Fred Thompson is viable and other points of Great Importance.

Firstly, Fred Thompson has the status of “celebrity” firmly in hand. This means all his money can be spent on things other than making the “household name”. Secondly, he looks presidential. Tall, distinguished, well-spoken. Lovely speaking voice. And finally, the American sheeple are not really interested in electing a leader as much as they are interested in finding someone who makes them look good and leave them the hell alone. Unless of course there is a government program of which they can avail themselves.

Secondly, immigration is one loud grating nails on the chalkboard type subject, isn’t it? I am uncomfortable with the way this whole issue is panning out. Mostly because I live in Oregon and that means Juan Valdez and his entire illegal family have more rights/freedoms than I do. They don’t have to pay taxes, show proof of identity or work. All they have to do is sneak in, live under the radar and avail themselves of the free money, food, drivers license and all the little blond American girlies they can rape and abduct in a 24 hour period. Now, I know that doesn’t sound very nice but listen to the news for a few days. How many criminals have the last name “Gonzalez”, “Gutierrez”, “de la” whatever. First names, Juan, Pablo, Guillermo, Maria…. How many of them are little brown people looking terribly strung out.

Does it make me a bigot because I dared to actually pay attention and notice the folks we’ve been told are clean, hard working “just want to make a decent living for Mama and send it back to Chipotle” or wherever seem to be scarce. As in where the hell?

Anyone who feels completely justified in beginning something illegally will have no qualms continuing to live that life by whatever means necessary. Legality means nothing. Besides, they’ll get dumped in Mexicali, wait a few days and swim right back.

Boomerangs.

And don’t even get me started on having to say “permiso” to the abuela at the store who is there with her 14 children and Will Not move out of my way although I am fairly certain a white woman saying “excuse me” TWELVE times is easily understood. But I say “permiso” and the crowd parts. Practically miraculous.

Do I feel some animosity? Why, yes. Yes I do. This is MY country. These are MY taxes paying for her chorizo and tripe. This is MY ER in MY town where I can’t get decent medical care because Roberto broke a toe at his under the table construction job and his entire FAMILY is at the ER with him and the wait is now 4 hours long. No, really, it’s just a concussion. I’ll just lie down over here and go to sleep while I’m waiting for you to get that government mandated translator to communicate to all of them what all their options are. Just hand me the check when you are finished with the El Dorito family.

I have met and been friends with wonderful people whose lineage was south of the border. Their cultural heritage was fun, enjoyable. They were an asset to any community they chose to be a part of. But they were Americans first who happened to at one time be from another place. They assimilated into a new culture. They became part of who we are as a country. They make us stronger.

So, when I see these families, 3 families to a car, 4 families to an apartment, pregnant 15 year olds and shawl covered grandmothers I get testy. When their ill-mannered and belligerent progeny sprawl over the playgrounds and tag every available flat surface I get downright pissed.

I don’t care if you are Algerian, Canadian, Uzbekistani or Guatamalen. You freakin’ dare to come to MY country do it the right way. Become one of us or go the hell home. You learn MY language, you live by MY laws and you suck it up and concede you are the new guy here. You accomodate me and mine. Period.

Because if you are really interested in America and the opportunities our sons and daughters have bled and died for you’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. If you’re just looking for handouts, drug mules and “brothas” you better get marching.

We’re done. And you need to be gone.

Nobody’s restaurants, landscaping, construction skills are that good.