Note to those executives in the really big chairs at American companies: A so-called customer service representative with a squeaky, shrieking, fingernail-on-the-chalkboard, fast-talking, thickly-accented foreign voice that I cannot understand on the telephone makes me want to never buy your product or service again. Got it?

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I am not conservative. I am normal. I expect to arrive at reasonable, logical decisions based on facts and truth. To get there, I ask questions. I believe we can end the screaming rhetoric about illegal aliens by getting an answer to one simple question.

But first, let me “set the scene”. Illegal aliens sometimes cross a dozen or more sovereign nations while traveling more than five-thousand-miles to reach the United States. Often, they pay drug dealers thousands of dollars to help them get here. Sometimes, parents send minor children off on such a journey all by themselves (in the U.S. this would be Felony Child Endangerment). For some unknown reason, these poor people do not ask for asylum in any of those dozen countries they cross. Countries, by the way, which speak their same language. This, I do not understand. Draw your own conclusion.

Opposing sides of any issue cannot arrive at a resolution if they don’t start out with facts and reality. If pro-illegal immigration folks will give the rest of us one simple answer to one simple question, we can end all the strife. Here’s the very simple question: How many more illegal aliens are you willing to allow into our country? Please, just give us your number. Then we will all know precisely where we stand, and can all have a reasonable conversation, instead of mindless bickering.

Before you come up with your number, please ask yourself: At what point do you think we will have more illegal aliens than our citizens can afford to feed, clothe, educate, medicate, and house? And then… please, just give us your number.

You might also ask yourself, Why do I want the United States to be the only country in the world that accepts unlimited illegal immigration? Oh… you don’t want unlimited illegal immigration? Fine… then please, just give us your number.

You might also ask yourself, Why do I not demand that other countries (including those of the oil-rich middle east) also feed, clothe, educate, medicate, and house hundreds of millions of illegal aliens? Oh… you don’t mean hundreds of millions? Fine… then please, just give us your number.

Do you want to allow another twenty-million illegal aliens into our country? Okay. Maybe Fifty-million? Okay. One-hundred-million? Three hundred-million? Fine. Please, just share your number with the rest of us.

I have no problem with helping people in need. I don’t know any American (Conservative, Liberal, or otherwise) who has a problem with helping people in need. The citizens of the United States of America are the most generous, giving, and compassionate people in the history of the entire world. This is an undeniable fact. Does that mean we must also give away our country?

The reality is… I don’t expect any pro-illegal immigration person to answer my simple question. I’ve asked  liberal associates this same question many times. All they do is change the subject. If you will please… just give us your number, then the whole country can discuss it calmly. Wouldn’t that be more pleasant than allowing a relatively small number of politically-inspired people to continue loudly wallowing in their sometimes obscene self-importance?

If you refuse to give us your number, then you—obviously—don’t really want to solve the problem. You just wish to continue your personal agenda, whatever it is.

So… if you refuse to give the country your number, here’s how we can stop your ugly ranting: We ignore you. Rant all you want. We won’t argue. We won’t correct your lies. We won’t counter-attack. All we’ll say is, “What’s your number?”

Normal citizens will no longer care about your opinion because your rants have no substance until you answer our one simple question. You will be having an argument all by yourself. Which is not possible. Unless you’re a no substance radical liberal. (Oops… I apologize for my poor writing style. “No substance” and “radical liberal” are redundant.)

Please… just give us your freaking number!

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Personally, I think the radlibs© are the ones who belong in an asylum.

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Listening to “oldies” radio while driving across the country on our recent road trip, a Beatles song took me back to my happy days as a rock ‘n’ roll radio personality. I  remembered the intro to a Beatles record I did on the air at KDWB in Minneapolis/St. Paul  . . .
. . . An Indian Chief had a beautiful daughter named Meadows. She married a young brave named Fields and became his Squaw. But, Fields died. The Chief sadly announced to the village, “Squaw bury Fields forever.”

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 Hey, the Ox man (Kevin Oxley) gave me permission to reproduce his latest bumper sticker. Here ya go:


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