Republicus
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me. I lift my lamp beside the golden door." The Statue of Liberty (P.S. Please be so kind as to enter through the proper channels and in an orderly fashion)
3 Comments:
What a disaster.
(Except, of course, for the Secretary of Commerce pick.)
Yep. That about sums it up.
"Musta made a wrong turn. Other way, other way..."
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