Sheriff Joe, We Need You.

Sheriff Joe, we need you.

Don't you want to feel wanted again? Isn't it time to thrust up those chubby little hands and say, "Peace out, Arizona."

Look, you're being sued by the Justice Department for constitutional violations, which, you know, seems like it would be one of those "Oh Shit" moments. You're hated by everyone but a large handful of elderly white-ish people who, let's face it, aren't getting any younger.

Nevertheless, you, sir are a patriot. But you're digging the heels of those seven-and-a-half Red Wings so far into the desert sand, I'm afraid some Chinese illegals try to sneak in through the hole.

You're misunderstood. The people have elected you to perform a task, which is dealing a little peace by rounding up people who wouldn't think twice about stabbing the ground with a shovel.

I can't believe all the hoopla over your "Equation":

Tinted windows = tinted skin x i'm comin in

Well here's your opportunity to stick that disrespectful quagmire in the rearview of your 2009 Crown Victoria.

Come to Bellingham, Washington, SheJo. Please.

You see...it's those Canadians...again. So many maple leafs have fluttered south, my blower has seized up.

And that's where you come in, because these maple leafs could use a little baggin.'

They assault the border twenty five miles north and clog the roads and aisles, stocking up on cheap food and gas. Sure, they're nice and it's kind of cute the way they say "Grade Four" instead of "Fourth Grade," but there I am, just restocking my marshmallow vodka after a crazy weekend on the jet ski, and I'm stuck in line behind more milk and beef than a Romney family cookout.

Apparently, the store would like to grow, but a Bellingham ordinance prohibits large box stores from expanding, so Costco is looking into relocating.

Whatever.

Until then, Sheriff, we've got a bunch of pissed off Americans up here. Why not climb out of that disrespectful quagmire down there and head north? You'll be welcomed like Douglas MacFreakinArthur.

Here's the pitch: We're requesting that you and your entourage enforce "American Hours" at Costco.

The store would be open to American citizens only between ten and six.

You'll be given carte blanche. If someone flips you any guff at the door, you've got full authority to investigate that individual's citizenship by any means necessary. Should you opt to employ your signature "digital citizenship exam," I'm confidant your boys will know the feel of a Canadian after a couple of weeks.

The illegals can be processed at a detention facility inspired by your Maricopa County outdoor prisons, so if those Canadians want to enjoy a cup of coffee or a Marlboro red, can you say, "T.F.B., eh?"

Anyway yeah, Sheriff, Joe. We'd really appreciate your help on this one. If we lose our freedom to shop and be back home in time for Ellen, what's next?

Please help; the sooner the better. I need toner.

-A Concerned American and Gold Star Member Since 1990

Should we just go ahead and buy Halloween candy now?

It's no wonder the place is shaped like a huge box. Its products are in huge boxes, and most of the huge boxes you purchase are placed in larger, huge boxes, to make the load easier to haul out to your boxy mini van. That's right, I'm speaking of Costco. 

Most grocery stores strategically place a few items near the check-out area—People Magazine, gum, candy—"impulse buy" merchandise. Costco, however, is about five acres of impulse buy products. You might enter the store with a shopping list of ten items, but upon leaving, you watch yourself load up your vehicle with at least 27 more things than were on said list. How did I end up with that eighteen-pack of bagel jerky? Do I really need four gallons of low-fat giblet gravy? Is there room in the house for these adjustable bar stools with vibrating "smart fingers"? I mistakenly assumed I could buy a pair of reading glasses, but naturally, they were only offered in three packs. What's the deal there? Maybe one pair for home, one for the office and one just to keep in an unmentionable body cavity if you're ever in need of them somewhere else?

Another fairly obnoxious attribute of Costco's is their packaging. You basically need to purchase a four-pack of scissors to slice open the space-age plastic container for your new solar powered pencil sharpener. And before even approaching the plastic covering, there's a ten-inch, cardboard periphery to saw through.

Of course, I can sit here and critique the shortcomings of this institution, but will that stop me from returning time and time again, orbiting the frozen food area three times just to sample the meatball bakes or the microwavable chicken, broccoli and rice? Uh...nope. Will I gaze with contempt upon the folks sitting at those little picnic tables, looking like they're rehearsing for a competitive pizza eating championship? Oh, no...I will soon be joining them.