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Take Your Huddled Masses and Shove 'Em
Take your tired and your poor, your huddled masses, yada, yada, yada, and shove 'em. Let them be poor and miserable somewhere else. Fuck off. Country's full.
I know what my stupid plaque says. I don't care. I was young and French and felt sorry for these nincompoops, but not anymore. Now I'm a proud American and I'll still lift my lamp high – only to show these bums the way the hell back to whatever stink hole they crawled out of.
Wah! My government is bombing me. Wah!
Go ahead, call me callous. I'll call you a sap. I’m older now. More pragmatic. Maybe one day we needed these cretins for their cheap labor, like in the 1800s or something, but now we have teenagers. Other people's teenagers. And old people.
Grandma might not pick strawberries as fast as a Mexican, but at least she speaks English.
Build that wall!
And don't tell me about the so-called smart ones. There's currently a limit of 60,000 some-odd work visas issued to these clowns every year. I say we lower that number. To ZERO.
What, there aren't any research facilities in Holland? Piss off.
Huddled masses. Fuck you. Go huddle up in Canada. You'll love it. They have socialized healthcare.
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