I still have not gotten used to all the motherfucking Mexican men here in Steepleton during the growing season. I have yet to see a Mexican woman up here lending their labour to our labour hungry farmers. I do not think the local farmers' wives are too keen on seeing good looking Mexican women bending over the crops. Hell, I might get a job on a farm if they start bringing Mexican women up here to do our work for us.
On Sunday Sonja and I saw four Mexicans pedalling their bikes across town. I said, "Look at those motherfucking Mexicans on their bikes. That's the way to keep people from driving cars - keep them poor. If you don't think that's what the rich motherfuckers think is the solution to global warming, you're not as paranoid about conspiracies as you should be. Keeping people poor is as much fun as making money to the fucking rotten bastards."
Sonja rolled her eyes and told me, "If Utah Philips dies and you learn to play the guitar and sing a little better there just might be a future for you outside of the fucking forest industry."