Hillaryzilla

Yes, we are in constant communication with Senator Obama’s campaign officials. He knows what I’m doing for him is good politics. I rip into him whenever I get the chance. If he survives my attacks, he deserves the nomination for President. The exercise will make him a better candidate.

If he doesn’t survive me, then he doesn’t deserve the nomination. After all, I’ve survived whatever has been thrown at me.

Privately, reporters ask if we, Barack and me, communicate. The answer is yes and no. We don’t talk or chat with one another. That would be too personal and people might get the idea that we’re pals. We’re not. It’s a surrogate thing. My people talk to his people. So we talk. But not really.

Why should I? He rode in out of nowhere and took the nomination away from me by exploiting loopholes in the rules. Who knew that caucus elections could be manipulated in so many ways. I wasn’t even planning to campaign in states with caucus elections. Except for Iowa, of course.

If Barack Obama wins the Democratic presidential nomination and calls me on the phone to ask for advice, I’ll give him some advice.

Get more life insurance

Everybody is against something. If I don’t win the Democratic presidential nomination, despite carrying all the important states, and biting into Republican strongholds like Kentucky and West Virginia, my supporters will cry foul.

Foul?

Sure. It’s purely sexism that is keeping me from winning the nomination. It’s a man’s world and the last thing they want is for a strong woman to become Commander-in-Chief. Look what happened to Gena Davis? Men pulled her TV show off the air.

The West Wing? Dominated by men and it lasted for years.

It’s not race. It can’t be. Look at Barack Obama. He’s black. Or white. But mostly black. And he’s managed to do very well, far beyond expectations. No, it’s not racism that is influencing this election for Democrats. It’s good old sexism.

The glass ceiling seems to stop at the Senate.

My latest ad campaign is code named ‘HillaryVirus.’ It’s viral marketing. I’m not completely sure what that means but my aides and advisors think it’s cool. When I asked them if a viral marketing campaign would help me defeat Barack Obama they all shrugged, and said, ‘meh.’

I came up with the ‘Hillary in the House’ slogan. At first, it was ‘Put a White Woman in the White House.’ I figured that would help with the voting in Kentucky and West Virginia. Voters there identify with me. White women there have cheating husbands, too.

Maggie thought we might have a problem with the media over ‘Put a White Woman in the White House’ what with me being so white and my opponent only being half white.

So, we changed the new campaign slogan to ‘Hillary in the House,’ added some hip hop jive talk to it, and started to spread it on YouTube and other places. It worked. Everyone loves it. I will win Kentucky and West Virginia and prove to the SuperDelegates that I can win the important states and Barack Obama cannot.

I am concerned for Barack Obama. Ever since I won a decisive primary victory in Indiana, he’s been off the campaign trail, probably licking his wounds and pondering obscurity.

I understand Obama’s appeal. He’s an attractive black man, a mixture of cultures, an enticing and engaging, some say exotic, man of learning and discipline. That’s all well and good, but America’s need to know more about this man.

He’s not a closer. Obama can’t close the deal. He can’t wrap up a campaign in which he’s led from the very beginning. What does that say about the man when it comes to heat in the kitchen?

If Obama can’t beat a woman in important primary election states like California, New York, Texas, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Florida, Michigan, how will he fare against a tough Republican candidate who is afraid of me?

I have this vision of poor Barack, sitting alone in grungy hotel room in Kentucky or West Virginia, states who is likely to lose because people there don’t like his kind, and will show their displeasure by voting for me.

He must be a sad and lonely man.

In the face of rising fuel costs, I proposed a federal Gas Tax Holiday and somehow people didn’t buy it. What’s not to like?

The proposal was simple. We have record high gasoline prices, partly because the government collects taxes on each gallon pumped.

I propose that from Memorial Day through Labor Day, that we, the federal government, do not collect the gasoline taxes, thereby saving drivers untold dozens of dollars through the peak travel months this summer.

I repeat: What is not to like?

Barack Obama, my opponent, who doesn’t even drive his own car, and who does not have a gas tax holiday plan of his own, steps up and says my plan is a gimmick, it’s pandering for votes, and lo and behold, the voters in North Carolina agreed with him. He almost convinced the voters in Indiana, too. His appeal to uneducated voters is better than I expected.

I know my new campaign slogan says Forget the Math, but we live in dire economic times. The math is easy. The average driver fills up their gasoline tank twice a month. That’s about 40 gallons. The federal tax is 18-cents on each gallon, which would be repealed during June, July and August, saving drivers over $7.00 a month. Maybe more.

Dozens of dollars would be saved before Labor Day and somehow my plan is considered a gimmick.

People will believe anything.

I was warned against doing an interview on Bill O’Reilly’s television show. He is so anti-Democratic, so hostile, so anti-Clinton. Everyone asked me what I hoped to gain.

Ha. What they didn’t know. 

O’Reilly was civil, courteous, agreed to disagree, and the whole show was without incident and a smash ratings success. Why?

Just before the cameras were turned on I leaned over and whispered to Bill, ‘Listen you sleeze bag, piss-poor excuse for a voter, I have photos that show you wearing women’s panties. White cotton from Jockey, to be precise, size 8. If you give me a difficult time today, I’ll whip those photos out faster than you can say pantyhose, and have them published on the internet before your show goes off the air. For the last time. Do we have a deal?”

O’Reilly sat back in his chair, gulped, looked me right in the eye, and said, ‘Yes Ma-am.”

The rest is history. We had a good time. Now I can come on his show any time I want. It’s all in the power of persuasion.

Paying some historical homage to General Custer, Indiana is pretty much Clinton’s Last Stand. The man on the hot seat for delivering a win in Indiana is Evan Bayh, the former Governor-turned-Senator who promised me he would deliver his state. He’s my biggest booster in Indiana.

We’ll see. It’s getting awfully close in the polls.

Evan is like his daddy and runs the political machine in the Hoosier State. If anything political happens in Indiana I’m sure that Bayh is behind it. Good or bad.

I’ll admit that I’m taxing my patience with these wannabe Ambassadors. Everyone wants to give me a state and then get appointed as Ambassador to France or England or the Bahamas or someplace.

Deliver the goods, or it’s bye bye Bayh.

One thing I love to do to people in the media is play chameleon and constantly re-invent myself. They eat it up, thinking all the while that I’m connecting with people, showing the real me. If anyone is doing a count I’m up to the seventh ‘real me’ since the Iowa caucuses. 

The latest series of television ads, the greatest political reinvention tool ever created, shows me as ‘working class‘. When I told Bill I was running a bunch of television ads which depict me as working class he spit up his drink laughing so hard.

I grew up in Chicago. My parents were wealthy. I went to a rich white girls school. What do I know about working class anything? But a picture is worth a thousand words, and a video of me highlighting my Midwestern working class roots, born of blue collar, working hard for the money is just priceless.

This week I’m on television telling all the voters in Indiana that I’m just a neighborhood home town girl from Chicago, right next door to them, a working girl who embraces hard work and opportunity.

They eat this stuff up.

People need to ask Barack Obama this question: ‘Why can’t you close the deal?’

After all, Obama leads in the popular vote, he leads in the number of delegates, he’s got five times as much money as me, and he’s spending it like a drunken sailor on shore leave, but I’m going to win Pennsylvania by double digits.

Obama can’t win the big ones.

When people run down that list of states Obama has NOT won they’ll be surprised. California, New York, Texas, Ohio, Florida, Michigan, and tomorrow, Pennsylvania. In all the big states the winner is me, the loser is Barack Obama.

Obama can’t win the big ones.

If he can’t close the deal against me with seven times as much money in his war chest, how does anyone expect Obama to beat John McCain in November?

Now that everyone knows Catholics will vote for me and not for Barack Obama, I’m ready to cash in a political chip or two.

Pope Benedict XVI is visiting the U.S. and I want a ride in his Popemobile. In fact, I plan to change the presidential limo into a Hillarymobile once I’m elected President. I’ll use a Cadillac instead of a Mercedes, though.

The Pope is German so he can get away with driving a customized German car. I don’t have that luxury thanks to NAFTA and the U.S. automobile industry in a shambles. Except for Honda, Toyota, and Nissan.

My Hillarymobile will have the same tall glass surrounding the presidential throne. I’ll get Bill to drive. Talk about making a statement on Day One.