January 20, 2017
Dear President Donald Trump,
Now that you’ve become our new Emperor, I mean 45th President of the United States, I have a confession: I’m an “anchor baby.” Given that you represent the best white hope to “Make America Great Again!,” I’m confessing in exchange to be pardoned for my birthright citizenship crime.
Honestly, I didn’t know that being born to Mexican immigrants on work visas violated the law or that pesky little thing called the 14th Amendment of the Constitution. If I would’ve known of your novel interpretation of our Constitution, I mean your Constitution, I would’ve pleaded in my mother’s womb to be aborted. Oh, I forgot, Republicans don’t believe in abortions. Does the GOP make exceptions for brown fetuses?
By the way, I’m also asking for them to be pardoned posthumously of their sins. Before you do so, however, I want to ensure that they weren’t criminals, rapists or drug dealers. To find the truth about my parent’s shady past, especially since I know how much you value facts, why not recall your investigators from Hawai’i—the ones looking for President Obama’s real birth certificate—to look into this huge matter for the sake of national security.
While President Obama wastes his time with ISIS and the Iranians, fortunately, you’ve enlightened us about the apocalyptic threats of Latino immigrants to the U.S. In fact, my mother, as a domestic worker for over 40 years, must have stolen tons of Charmin toilet paper (one-ply) from the white, middle-class families she deceitfully served. Also, since my father worked as farmworker during the Bracero Program—the bi-national guest worker program during the mid-1900s—he surely moonlighted as a drug dealer. Actually, he worked for Joaquín “El Chapo” Guzmán—the Mexican drug lord who recently escaped from prison. It doesn’t that the drug lord was in his teens in the early 1960s.
Speaking of El Chapo, I want to congratulate you on how you showed him who’s the real jefe via Twitter. Only a graduate of The Wharton School of Business, like yourself, can outsmart and instill fear in a Mexican drug lord. I bet Sen. John McCain (R-AZ), the POW, couldn’t handle El Chapo, mano a mano, like you. Once you personally capture El Chapo with your new Secretary of State, “Dog the Bounty Hunter,” you should build a Trump-themed wall between the U.S. and Mexico border.
Once built by forced Mexican labor and confiscated revenues from Los Angeles street vendors, the gold-plated Trump Wall—surrounded with casinos, golf courses and infinity pools on both sides of the border—will put the Great Wall of China to shame. Heck, if you run out of money from the profits of bacon-wrapped hot dogs, pupusas and paletas de fresas, you can unilaterally negotiate with the Chinese for a portion of their wall in exchange for the oil money you’ll secure from re-invading Iraq.
It’s amazing how much easier international diplomacy has become, now that you’re the leader of the free-market world, I mean free world.
Finally, My Lord, now that you’ve made “America Great Again!,” especially by ridding the country of all those pesky brown people, you should relocate the White House from D.C. to the beacon of American exceptionalism: Trump Tower.