I was ruminating last night on the immigration issue and realized that it bears a striking resemblance to that other national gift from our neighbors to the south. That's right. Illegal immigration is just like tequila. At first, everything's great. You've got cheap labor and delicious mixed drinks. Everybody's having a good time. But then in the morning, the hospital bill comes. Nobody wants to pay it and the fun is all over.
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Hospital bill? Hospitals after tequila are only for wusses.
Really? Are you sure that the hospital bills aren't for the truly hardcore?
quite an analogy, then again, you're always coming up with some sort of analogy
The truly hardcore don't go to the hospital.
The truly hardcore are taken there by their friends.
the hospital or the morgue . . . the real men, that is. in fact, if you really are a real man, you just start at the morgue. saves everyone a whole lot of time and trouble. more consideration
The truly hardcore have friends that dump them in front of the ER and then speed away.
I'm allergic to hospitals