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Mexicans Do Jobs the Kids from Bel Air Shouldn’t Have to Do
Just don't start writing scripts, Jose.


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Which doesn’t mean we’d ever vote for a Republican. If we did, the next thing you know we’d have a president who never vetoes a spending bill, institutes a No Child Left Behind Act, pushes relentlessly for open borders, appoints Alberto Gonzales as attorney general, refuses to enforce the immigration laws, hands out citizenship like it was candy, appeases the Palestinians, humiliates the Chairman of the joint chiefs of staff by firing him after one term, and generally acts like a tool in Ted Kennedy’s hand. And that’s a Democrat’s job.

So instead of fussing about immigration, or “illegal aliens,” or the Reconquista, or whatever you want to call it, we’ve got more important things on our mind. Really big stuff, more pressing than Paris in chains, or Larry and Laurie David deciding which one gets the Prius before the world ends, or even whether Phil Spector is finally going to get the chair for ruining the Beatles’ Let It Be album.

Hillary or Obama?

Luckily, Uncle Stevie Spielberg settled that one last week by coming down from the mountain and anointing Herself. It’s not that we don’t like Obama: as Joe Biden says, he’s clean and articulate. And we don’t hold his middle name — Hussein — against him. In fact, you can take it to the bank that after “Che” finally runs its course as a chic moniker, “Hussein” will take its place. After all, Yugoslavia — I mean Iraq — never attacked us!

Still, it sure was fun to flirt with the Punahou Kid for a while. Believe it or not, some of us do resent getting pushed around by the Clintons, shaken down for donations and forced to shop at Ron Burkle’s supermarkets when we’d rather be buying Two-Buck Chuck at Trader Joe’s. And so we grumble and groan, and make goo-goo eyes at people like Dick Gephardt and Joe Lieberman and even crazy Albert Arnold Gore Jr.

But in the end, we always go back to the Clintons. We love them. They showed us the way out of the Reagan-Bush electoral wilderness and into the land of milk, honey, and Monica from Beverly Hills. So what if Bill never got even 50 percent of the popular vote, was impeached, and disbarred by the Supreme Court? He’s still a winner in our books, and if he wants his brilliant, brainy, multilingual helpmeet, soul mate, and business partner to follow him into the Lincoln Bedroom, I say: Go for it!

Because there’s another reason we’re going to vote for her, and that’s to get him out of Los Angeles. Remember all that talk about how, when Bill fell victim to the cruel, Republican plot known as the 22nd Amendment, he was going to come out here and take a job as a studio executive? Never happened, did it? No, because the last thing anybody in Hollywood needs is a sexual-harassment lawsuit.

As president, Hillary Clinton will be doing a job that even Mexicans can’t do, yet. Which is just fine with us, as long as she keeps her friends close, and her enemies closer.



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