Are you ready for the interruption?

Yup, our fearless leader, G-Unit, is going on television tonight to talk ‘bout some immigration stuff. Thank goodness he’s not preempting any good shows, or else I’d be pretty steamed.

When I first started thinking about doing a blog, I decided I would make a conscious effort not to drift into anything political. Why not? Well, you could throw a bag of turd out your window and hit someone with a political blog these days. Then, you’d be out a perfectly good bag of turd and you’d become the subject of their next posting. It’s a lose-lose situation. But mostly it’s because I can’t stand any of this left-wing, right-wing, buffalo wing crap. I can’t stand people who make every opinion out to be some political agenda. And, I mostly can’t stand people who anchor themselves to some side of a political spectrum and refuse to even admit the very real possibility that the two-party system sucks balls.

My balls, specifically.

However, since people at work think I’m pretty smart, they’ve been asking me what I think about immigration reform. I’ll be honest, I’m not versed enough in either side of the issue to even remotely debate one side or the other.

I think the retard hillbillies who claim immigrants are stealing their jobs and should be rounded up and deported are, well, retard hillbillies. That goes without saying. Their argument is so ludicrous, I won’t even begin to ridicule it. By the same token, I’m nowhere near ready to start granting mass amnesty either. This is a problem that requires a creative solution.

Enter the Donkey.

I propose a three-part plan to clean up the immigration mess.

Step 1: All hot chicks stay. I’m not sure there’s anyone who’s willing to argue this point. Have you ever been to a party and said, “Man, there are too many hot chicks here, I’m leaving.”? No way. It’s like a dude looking down his pants and saying “Too big.” It’s just not going to happen. Even the retard hillbillies are on board with this. It doesn’t matter whether you have a chance with these hot chicks or not. More hot chicks means more fun for everyone.

Except the ladies, they need some goods as well. That leads me to. . .

Step 2: Any dude that can kick my ass can stay. I’m putting a ginormous cage in my front yard and challenging all immigrant dudes to a no-holds barred, old-school cage match. I’m a big guy and I used to be stronger than about 99% of the U.S. population. Not so much anymore, which means they’ll have a chance. No weapons, no groin punching, and no eye-gouging. That’s it. You win, you get a green card. You lose, you get a green shirt that reads “I got my ass handed to me by the Donkey.” That way, everyone leaves with something. Plus, I’m not above whoopin’ some old dude’s ass or some handicapped dude’s ass. No exceptions to the cage match if you’re a dude.

But, there’s got to be some exemptions, right? Of course, that’s why my plan has three steps.

Step 3: If you’ve been deemed not hot enough or not badass enough, there’s still hope for you yet if you want to stay in the U. S. of A. Can you say, “Scavenger Hunt?” This won’t be some sissy-ass scavenger hunt either. You’ll need to find more than a button from an old jacket and the same old crap you used to find on these lists when you were a kid. Nope, it’s going to include stuff specifically that I want and currently can’t get. Things like Courteney Cox’s underpants. Or a good pepperoni cheese steak with mayo. Awesome stuff. Finish the list and you get to stay. That’s it.

So, why should people adhere to my three step plan? Simply put, it’s not just because I’m awesome. It’s because a couple of weeks ago, I was awesome enough to march in the immigration rally in Chicago. We all have our reasons for marching in these things. Fair wages. Health insurance. Retirement benefits. But, my purpose was much more noble. Did I want to feel like I was part of something historic? Absolutely. Truth be told, that wasn’t the main reason. When it comes down to it, I just wanted to cross the street.

See, I was down at McCormick Place for a tradeshow that morning and we had an event up on Monroe and Michigan Avenue that afternoon. I was with some ladies from work and we took a cab up north around noon so we could get there by 2:00. At 12:45, it showed no signs of letting up, so we grabbed some lunch and hoped it would clear up before we had to be there. At about 1:30 we went out and it was still curb-to-curb marchers for as far as the eye could see. We had to make a choice: move forward or give up. I wasn’t for giving up.

So, we moved down one block and walked right in. Slowly, over the course of the block, we made our way across. Along the way, one of the ladies got smacked in the face by a Mexican flag fluttering in the breeze. I laughed because, well, co-workers getting hit in the face is funny. But then I asked myself, “Why are they carrying all these Mexican flags?” It seemed sort of counterproductive to me. You want the same rights as American citizens, but you’re not willing to let go of your native land. It’s called having your cake and eating it, too. There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your heritage. I’m cool with that. I’m just saying it’s probably not the best way to garner sympathy with the average American.

Let’s say, hypothetically speaking, you were once dating this average-looking girl, and things were fine, but there was one problem: she’d never give you a blowjob. Eventually, you decide that she either starts giving you blowjobs or you’re moving on. Your ultimatum passes and still, no blowjob. So you leave that girl and set out to find another. Now rumor has it that there’s a hot girl across the street who gives great head. If you spend some time with her and treat her right, provide her with things she can’t get from other guys, she’ll eventually start smoking pole. Now, she’s got some high standards, and you’re not always the first guy she’ll start sucking, but if she thinks you’re worth it, you’re golden. Why, with that kind of set up, would you then start marching around with pictures of your uglier, less fellatially inclined ex-girlfriend and demand that the hot chick move you up into her good graces. Yeah, that plan will work.

Yes, it’s a poor analogy and yes, it’s in poor taste. You know what? I don’t care. I just know that this nation was founded on hot chicks giving great head. That’s such a beautiful thing, I don’t want anyone to screw it up for the rest of us.

All right, I’m done talking about this. It’s time to get back to more important things, like taking wagers on how soon Aras from Survivor starts becoming a serial killer. There’s something not right in that dude’s head.