My Brush With Brush

So I met Brush on the mean streets of Hillsboro, MO last nite. No Secret Service detail or nothing. Just walking alone, a bit dishevelled, muttering to himself. We rapped a bit and from the few coherent phrases I could understand, I gathered that he wuz in a funk b/c of how his plan for immigration reform crashed and burned into a taco stand. I wuz like, "Dude, what were you thinking? Are you actively trying to destroy your image now?" He laughed like I had just told the funniest joke ever, a real maniac laugh, and muttered on about how too many folks these days--even good Christian folks--are strapping on rubbers or popping the pill, so we need the "mexis" to keep up our labor force. I mentioned that Gerry and Lisa Becker fought like hell to add to the labor force, and they succeeded. He laughed again, yelping, "AmeriCANS--not cans of tuna!" I wuz starting to worry a bit about the guy, so I tried to give him advice: "Look here, why don't you just say that the latex or whatever in condoms make's a dude's joint fall off and run away and join the circus--and tell women that the pill has all these possible horrible side effects. Oh, wait..." Brush just kept cracking up, like I wuz doing a stand up routine for him. He finally stopped laughing and got all stern and said, "No. Mexis. Fucking Christian babies pickin' lettuce? Rucking Ryan Recker running a roadside restaurant? Not on my watch. Besides...we need the fucking votes!" After that, he just went on with a two or three minute full bore Tourette's Syndrome monologue that involved various combinations of words like fuck, cunt, shit, Lou Dobbs, asshole, Sean Hannity, tacos, burritos, puta, and so on. Now twas I that had to laugh: "Oh, Brush...you slay the shit out of me, dude. You still don't get what happened, do ya, poor bastard? Fucking Reagan got immigration reform shoved thru, dude, so it's not like 100 percent of yer redneck base has been sitting around hating Mexicans from time immemorial. But fuck...you've even got the picket fence crowd fearing the brown menace!" Brush got all lucid for a sec, saying he loved the little brown people and he wuz taking it in the asshole every godamn day for his little dumbfuck Alberto, so how could he have caused all the anti-mexi sentiment? I thumped him on the forehead and said, "You pushed the panic button, Hoss! The fucking fear button! Over and over again. First you made everyone fear the Arabs and then you didn't get why Americans wouldn't want Arabs guarding our ports? Now what's left of your base is scared shitless of all dark-skinned people and wants the architects who designed the Great Wall of China to come up with something similar for the USA, and that shocks you? Jesus fuck...are you doing coke, again, son?" Just then, a Secret Service limo screeched into view and Brush was swept into it by three men in black. A fourth one looked out at me from an open window and said he'd kill me if I talked to anyone about Brush's mental state. I belched loudly and said, "It's cool, amigo. He didn't seem that different from how he's been at press conferences, lately." And, with that, the limo sped off and I got in my own car and drove to Los Portales for a beef chimi.