Dear Gabacho: The Copper State politician was right to downplay the criminality of being in this country illegally (that’s just a civil boo-boo not classified as a federal crime by the Immigration and Nationality Act) but wrong to say it’s as harmless as a parking ticket. Last I checked, a parking ticket doesn’t spark a Know Nothing movement, can’t propel pendejo politicians to office, won’t split up families. Besides, splitting the hairs of our nation’s labyrinthine immigration laws (being in this country illegally isn’t a federal crime, but entering the United States illegally is) might win rhetorical battles but does nothing to advance the amnesty movement. My advice: Stick to the Reconquista-approved talking points of America’s necessity for cheap labor and the immigrant can-do spirit/prolific fecundity as necessary to help elderly, lazy gabachos keep los Estados Unidos strong in the face of the Guatemalan menace.

Dear Gabacho: We just have better-refined taste buds than gabachos. Only a true gourmand can appreciate a tall, frosty glass of Clamato– the sweet bitterness of tomato juice, that briny dash of clam broth, an elixir to start the day on the right foot. Add in the facts that Clamato originated in California and that Mott’s now exclusively devotes its advertising dollars to the Latino market, and it’s little mystery why Mexicans love the drink. There’s also the whole cosa that many Mexicans think Clamato is an aphrodisiac because of its miniscule clam content– but I’ll give my people the benefit of the doubt and think of them as being smarter than to believe that sipping tomato-and-clam juice will make their pitos harder and panochas tighter. Then again, Mexicans largely fueled the box-office smash Beverly Hills Chihuahua, so if any group can obsessively, stupidly gulp a beverage for restorative powers, it’s Mexicans– and gabachos with their lattes.

Ask the Mexican at askamexican@mcweekly.com.