Where Is Gloria Allred?
by Gregg OpelkaForget Waldo. Where’s Gloria?
Gloria Allred—the lawyer who put the ”rude” in jurisprudence—is mysteriously missing in action of late. Surfacing recently from beneath her rock in a cellophane effort to shore up Jerry-the-Clown Brown’s gubernatorial aspirations, Allred came riding to the raucous rescue of innocent Nikki Diaz, poor li’l counterfeit alien girl forced to accept the humiliating, inhumane salary of $23-an-hour from her employer-oppressor, Meg “She’s a whore” Whitman. Victim Diaz was even forced to—terribile dictu—drive the Whitman automobile to—and from!—the supermarket. Forget the Chicago stockyards, o ghost of Upton Sinclair, and get thee to California. It’s a real jungle out there.
Of course, Allred is to be applauded for her unrelenting altruistic efforts to call reprobates like Whitman to account and to champion immigration cheats and forgers like victim Diaz, those loveable naughty miscreants who otherwise would not have a voice in our noble legal system. “What’s in a name?” asked Romeo. But indeed, in Allred’s case, is there an appellation other than Gloria so befitting this self-effacing vindicatrix of victimhood, this scourge of scandal, this Titania of tarnish?







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