You're Statue of Liberty. You go to New York and has an inscription at the bottom by Emma Lazarus that is a tribute, an invitation to immigrants. Give me your tired, your poor, your huddle masses, journey to breathe free. The wretched refuse of your teaming, sure, send these, the homeless tempted sauce to me, and I lift my lamp by the golden door. That's, that shit is beautiful. But if we don't mean it, let's grasp that shit off. Or at least put PS, except for Mexicans. We reserved a right to refuse service to anybody. She's holding a lamp, not a leaf, Laura. Just, I don't understand it, man. We have a law here. Y'all riding a yellow bus or something? What the fuck is wrong? Oh, kind of shit going on, I don't understand. Of course, you can't say nothing to nobody. No more. Everybody's politically correct. You can't say nothing to God damn more, man. That's the fucking deal. It all started with, remember, male Gibson said, Jews started all the world, but he couldn't take the heat for it. Oh, no, no, I don't hate Jews, I was drinking.