Commie Girl

Where Everybody Knows My Name: Take that, Gustavo!

I flitted about and introduced people as if we all were at one of my cocktail parties, which is pretty much how I like to live my life. "Matt Cunningham of OC Blog, do you know OC Dem Executive Director Mike Levin?" I asked. (It's Levin, not Lawson, as I mistagged him in a recent column. But I introduced Matt to Mike Lawson as well.) "Have you met Frank Barbaro? And have you met our editor, Will Swaim? Will, this is Jubal."

Hands were graciously shaken and nobody fought—except an old white lady and an old white man. At first, with his Mexican flag and his sign touting open borders, I thought he was a Minuteman plant. But when the old white lady kept grabbing his flag and he kept threatening to have her charged with assault, I just got confused. Then, when I recognized his compadre as local commie activist Jay Funsch (not Jeff Funsch, as I mistagged him, too, recently—and maybe I should lay off the sauce at least when I'm on deadline), I realized there is in fact an old white man in Orange County who goes around waving Mexican flags and means it.

Um, hooray!

Life is sweet, or better than it had been
Life is sweet, or better than it had been

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You know what would be hilarious? If my friend Paul Lucas (for whom I'm an unpaid consultant, unless your country's currency, like mine, is based on the cocktail) actually beats Van Tran in the 68th Assembly District. (I call dibs on press liaison!)

It could happen, I explained to Paul at his Friday night fundraiser—before I ditched his ass without a goodbye to hear the dueling pianos at the Rockin Taco—even in a district that's got 50 percent more Republicans than Dems, because of all the racist white people not knowing the difference between Van and Tan.

"Make racism," I told him, "work for you!"

And then I laughed and laughed because I totally meant it.

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