Dear Mr. President,
First off, I would just like to congratulate you on your fearless, stubborn, progressive leadership in governing the American people. Before we get into the meat-and-potatoes of it all, I think you—and the entire world—should know that you are as much a visionary as you are eloquent; as brilliant as you are naturally tanned. I, myself, am a die-hard, Bible-thumping, right-wing conservative. I believe in a woman’s right to choose— Her right to choose ABSTINENCE if she doesn’t want to get pregnant (ha ha)! I think big corporations are model citizens and that if money talks, we have an obligation to listen. And I reserve the right to go duck-hunting with an Uzi and hollow-points or a .50-caliber, high-powered rifle with explosive-tipped, armor-piercing rounds should I so choose. I believed you when you said you thought the American people were too smart to be hoodwinked by those left-handed, gluten-allergy-having, vegan liberal heathens; I also see that it’s imperative for your government to infringe on those individual freedoms when the public starts acting in conflict with those same exacting and infallible standards to which we as Americans are expected by the rest of the world to hold ourselves. Your border wall will help preserve those unassailable American values.
Listen to me, prattling on like I’ve got a school-girl crush. But enough of the small talk, Mr. President, and onto the issue at hand: The U.S.-Mexico border wall. First of all, just let me say “Bravo, Sir. Bravo.” I don’t think it will be an eyesore at all. In fact, I think it will serve as potent symbol of American prowess. A 2,000-mile-long slab of concrete, Sir—if you’ll excuse my bluntness—it’ll be like America whipped it out, laid it down, and said. “The peso stops here, compadre.”
But you know what I think would make it even better? If you had painted, in big, bold, blood-red letters visible from a mile out, ‘TRUMP IS HERE’ repeatedly along the Mexican side of the wall. Not ‘WAS’, because as long as that wall stands, Mr. President, you are here. Right here. And though I’m certain it will serve as an effective stop-gap, I’m afraid it still may not be the permanent solution we so fervently hope for.
As much as it pains me to admit, I got caught up in a debate with one of those ‘I-think-my-dog-should-be-allowed-to-marry-my-cat’ left-wing fairy lunatics, and he made a decent, albeit ass-backwards, point about the wall: It’s not going to be enough to stop those border-hopping Mexicans.
Between us, I think it’s safe to admit that we both know just how sneaky the Mexicans are. But this arrogant prick pointed out that a 20-foot wall wouldn’t be enough. He cited the inefficacy of the Berlin Wall at deterring East Germans from defecting to the West. Of course, I corrected him, informing him that the Berlin Wall was a smidge under 12 feet, while your (or should I say our) wall is going to be an impressive 50 feet. He seemed less than impressed (I mean, you can lead a hippie to water… But you can’t get him to bathe in it!—Am I right?). He countered by saying they’d just dig under it, and I deftly parried with the fact that it was also going to extend five feet beneath the ground. At which point he scoffed—Scoffed! At me!—and I’m not exaggerating when I say I was ready to just haul off and punch him right in the nuts. No joke!
Then he says something like, “So all they’d have to do is, what, dig six feet under?” to which I replied quickly—you’d be proud, I know you would—that “Sure they could dig six feet under—six feet down into their own damn graves!” Oh, boy, did I get a kick out of that one!
And then it dawned on me: He was right. They’re already known for digging tunnels beneath the border—a five-foot-deep slab embedded in the ground isn’t going to be a deterrent to these people.
And that’s when I had the best idea I’ve ever had in my life: We need to dig a moat, to safeguard the integrity of the wall. Ideally, it would span either side, but I think that even if it was just on the U.S. side, we’d be alright. I’m serious about this, Mr. President—it’s what we need to ensure the safety of the American people. Whether they support it or not. (Personally, I feel that NOT supporting the venture is tantamount to low-to-middling treason and that it needs to be stamped out… But one thing at a time.)
Because a wall and a moat—well, that’s damn-near impenetrable. And it’s not just the cheap-labor ruffians working for $3/hr in untaxed cash—as dishwashers and housekeepers and cheap manual laborers. They’re just the tip of the tortilla chip-shaped iceberg. It’s the cartel drug runners we need to be worried about. While obviously stupid by nature—(Just look at their chosen occupation!)—I believe they will find a way past the wall. But throw a deep moat on the other side, well, now we’ve got a whole new ball game. Add some crocodiles and alligators for good measure—they won’t know what hit ’em!
And don’t allow those whinging, tree-hugging, shoeless hacky-sackers get in your head about further endangering endangered wildlife—(you and I both know that the entire reason for the wall is to keep dangerous Mexican ‘wildlife’ out of our fair country… You know what I mean).
As for the indecision over who’s going to foot the bill, you stay stoic, Mr. President. I’m sure your detractors thought they saw something of a puffed-up, thin-skinned, rosaceous weakling begging the Mexican President to refrain from publicly refusing to finance the building of the wall—(which is absolutely ridiculous, by the way: I mean, it’s their fault, it’s their citizens performing triathlon-like feats to cross the border, why shouldn’t it be on their dime? And if they still won’t pay for it, I say we force the illegals to build it on their way out of town—they each get a section, starting on the U.S. side and finishing on the Mexican side, and by the time they realize what just happened, they’ll be back in Mexico staring at the business-end of your prodigious stature!).
But I digress. While your enemies may have seen your pleadings with the Mexican President as tantrum-esque, what I saw was a sincere, tender-hearted moment of humanity from a living giant, the preeminent leader in everything from real estate to reality TV. A prophet of freedom and prosperity; a herald angel—the patron saint—of the indigent slum-lord and the corner-cutting contractor. You are a titan of foreign policy, a stentorian and grandiloquent orator, the pillar of American values, and—no homo—a roguishly handsome man with a dashing, demonstrative demeanor whose hair is totally real, and it’s preposterous to suggest otherwise!
You keep up the good work, Sir, and don’t let the haters keep you from ‘Making America Great Again!’
Forever your sycophantically devoted servant and constituent,
P.S. If you need someone to help you dig that moat, I have a shovel and good buddy with a back-hoe whose fallen on tough times!