I sometimes feel guilty about my displeasure at the hordes of Central Americans who want to walk and crawl 1,500 miles just for the opportunity to wash my soiled underwear for slave wages. And I have a pile.

I assume 90-95% are nice folk who merely want to break our immigration laws. The other 5%? Thems trouble. Human traffickers, drug dealers, child exploiters. They want to prey upon your family. Kill you if necessary. But damn, I have a pile of dirty underwear, and no one named Consuela to do my dirty work. The job I theoretically won’t do. Do you mind if they crash with you?


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