A Child’s Garden of Cheap Shots, because if you can’t enjoy yourself at the expense of a guy with $100-million who gets laid better in one hour than you will in your entire sorry life, well who can youkid?
Left: NY Gov. Eliot "John" Spitzer disguises himself as jack o' lantern for D.C. tryst.
Right: Turning that frown upside down to put on a game face for consituents, from whom much has been taken away. (AP photos)
Yes I realize this diary is a tad tardy, but that Eliot Spitzer thing had me tied up pretty much all day yesterday. Of course for Eliot Spitzer that would have been an additional $2-$3,000. As the former governor might opine, perhaps a little voir dire may be called for. O.K. maybe even a lot of voir dire. Let’s be honest. This should call for a whole can of voir not only dire, but more precious than hell. At the subconscious level, that may be the inadequacy prompting this otherwise pathetic attempt at mirth in these trying days ahead – although not necessarily for us. (That would be an additional $200.)
To be perfectly honest, I’ve got no problem with entering into a business arrangement with prostitutes, even when you’re a public official with a devoted wife and family. That’s because I am a—whaddayacallit, it’s on the tip of my tongue ($450) – a guy. It’d no big deal. It’s only sex. I remember what that was like. You shouldn’t let it get in the way of an otherwise successful marriage. We’ve been married 38 years, and consider it a win win. She got pregnant both times. Not that it’s any of your business but we only made it this far after discovering the 35th anniversary is counseling.
I don’t mean to hit a guy when he’s down. Or when she’s down. Or when they’re both down and aren’t you getting a little turned on too right about now? Who among us hasn’t said, there but for the grace of God and $4,300 go I? If only to experience what it would be like, who among us hasn’t harbored the latent desire to try something like this at least for one day before he dies? OK in my own particular socioeconomic bracket, maybe only 15 minutes, and then under our particular marital structure most likely immediately before he dies – of unnatural, though understandable, causes.
Not that I am in favor of long distance sexual activity, that taking place in upscale D.C. boutique hotels. Let’s leave extramarital sex where it belongs – on the Internet. Or in the words of Ashley Alexandra Dupré, we’ve all probably had our fill of Gov. Spitzer by now. And yet one feels the need to get it completely out of one’s system-- if only as matter of forensic evidence. Sorry one just can't help oneself. As you may surmise, my own most highly evolved sexual maneuver could very well be the single entendre.
So out of consideration for you, dear reader, in purging myself of these sordid thoughts – and at least one pretty damn phenomenal one -- that have been racing through my mind over the past several days, I will endeavor to limit this offering to, oh, three dozen low blows and a ten point exit strategy, making every effort to exclude questions and observations that one would have reason to believe might have already been expressed elsewhere on late night television. We haven’t had cable in years so you’ll have to Stewart/Colbert/Maher debrief on your own there. Other satirical Internet fare – what, do you think, I’ve got all day?
Think of this not just as free association, but as a kind of one stop shopping for the kinds of lame references and snarky observations that we’d otherwise have to troll the Net many hours to accumulate by other means.
First, can I have a show of hands? How many are virtually certain this whole hullabaloo is just a plot to take the shine off Obama’s big win in Mississippi?
Second, as Gov. Spitzer’s life coach, spiritual advisor, and pilates instructor, I have been asked by the Emperor’s Club to announce that their Client #9 hopes to be launching his own personal fragrance as soon as we can come up with a name for it. So far we think we’re two-thirds of the way there, "Love Potion #__. Help us out here.
Heard around the Prozac-Water cooler:
- I'll say something stinks! I transferred $35,000 in savings from Citibank to BOA, and I didn't even get a goddamn toaster.
- Look at the bright side Romney wasn’t the only ex-governor who loved America too much?
- On the one hand you’ve got a classy dame with a great set of gams (gee does this date me?) who you can have for $1,000/hr. On the other hand, well, you’ve got your other hand.
- So what have we learned? It’s a misconception that you have to withdraw or deposit $10,000 to come under government scrutiny. In fact you look even more suspicious if you try to get in just under the wire. So what are you saying, $9K is the new $10K?
- Is it my imagination or does this Spitzer guy look pretty much like Bill Cowher after he's freshened up a little?
- You are absolutely right sir, Republican sex scandals just don't cut it anymore. They're pathetic. The Jenrettes must now be in their 90’s, but even they’d probably still be fun to watch. Bring back Wilbur Mills and Fanny Foxx, Gary Hart and Donna Rice, Jefferson and Sally Hemmings. You know, the A team.
- Don't you see what this means? It's a biggie. This legitimizes out next four cheap shots at Republican sex scandals. They owe us one extramarital affair, two hookers, and a gay thing.
- Things aren't always what they seem. With Clinton it was a question of judgment. She just wasn’t that good looking. With Spitzer it's fiscal irresponsibility. Who pays $4,300 for a hooker? What do you get for that? An annuity?
- On a scale of animal magnetism, I’d now compare the Governor to Brad Pitt. Women will find them both unapproachable for diametrically opposed reasons.
- Ten to one it all started with that damned Passengers Bill of Rights the dude signed. Isn’t this the way that works? Say you’ve boarded a flight at LaGuardia, and now you’re stuck out on the taxiway two hours. You are not only awarded a free roll of toilet paper, but for $5,000 you can join the mile high club without leaving the ground, have a swell time, and when Jet Blue throws in the towel you can still get back in your car and be home by dinner.
- I don't think it's scandalous so much as subprime.
- So how much for one o' them "It's Just Lunch" girls?
Now just a few questions out of simple curiousity:
- You're supposed to give rings to prostitutes? I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment .
- They’re lambasting him for possibly doing prostitutes for six years? I say "What stamina!" Was that taking time out for meals?
- What do they mean "he was a very demanding customer?" He asked for receipts?
- Who but a Visigoth would think "Kristen" is sexier than her interim nom de night Ashley Alexandra Duprė.
- Depending upon what level of substance abuse may be involved, are the names Sleepy, Dopey, Sneezy, Grumpy, Bashful and, of course Doc still in play?
- What precedes an elected official into the Mayflower Hotel? If it’s not a call girl named April Showers, I’ll eat my pillow mint and half the minibar.
- And now that you mention it, I'm still waiting for that DC madam to come over and help me figure out my phone bill.
- With all those gazillion dollar golden parachutes and executive luxuries, how come you rarely read about corporate CEOs getting caught like this. Not even in the WSJ?
- What kind of balls does it take to think a high profile individual can get away with something like this? I’ll tell you what kind. Balls that are apparently worth $2,150 apiece.
- If $5,000 is the equivalent of maybe two dollars for a high roller like Mr. Spitzer, then is a $5,000/hr. call girl still pretty much like a two-dollar whore? Well no, but in a way it’s comforting to think so.
- How good can these women be to be worth $1,000 and up and hour? (There I go again.) How lithe, how blithe, how Holly Golightly? How coy? How wonderfully jejune if you will. Or if at least one of them will? And would three at once be entirely out of the question? Or as the oddsmakers are now labeling it the Trif_ckta.
- How amenable, how available, how flexible in every sense of the word? How adorable, unforgettable, approachable, dependable, negotiable, how gullible?
- How huggable, compatible, peaceable, pierceable, invertible, and just plain bootylicious.
- If worse comes to worse, inflatable? Not quite as kinky, billiardtable?
- How serviceable, audible, navigable, submersible, filmable fungible, and strictly in business terms, doable?
- How dependable? How ready, willing and ableable? How America’s-Next-Top-modelable?
- How irrepressible, unquenchable, insatiable, inexhaustible – or conversely, depending upon one’s age and preference – repressible, quenchable, satiable, or exhaustible?
- Especially at this time of year, would she be depreciable?
- How statutorily transportable, court admissible, prosecutable, permeable, refundable and HubbleTelescopeable?
- And lest we not forget, communicable?
- Has her name ever surfaced in a sentence alongside the phrase "chrome off a trailer hitch?"
- Not sanctimonious enough ever to be approached by the faux-morality pretensions of the television show Cheaters?
- Has she ever not been with Charlie Sheen?
- Wait a minute. Silda Wall Spitzer? The Governor’s squeeze went to Wall HS in Belmar? The best I ever hoped for was wall-to-wall carpeting. And have mercy. Wasn’t that Silda woman punished enough in Michael Clayton?
Just asking.
O.K. team, let’s get with the spin. Repeat these talking points after me:
- Sometimes at 3 a.m., you just have to go with whoever picks up the phone.
- They had an open marriage. He'd open his wallet and shell out $4,300. She opened her willing suspension of disbelief.
- It's kind of a marine green conservation thing. He thought he was transporting a woman across state lines for immortal porpoises.
- It was that Prozac energy water I tell you, the Prozac water.
- Cripe in this economy doesn't providing high-end employment opportunities count for anything? Oh wait, high end, I think you have to pay extra for that too?
- He became distraught the moment the Department of Agriculture admitted that dead cattle have been entering the nation’s food supply for hundreds of years.
- Some things are better left unsaid. Other things would have been way better left unpaid.
- Don't forget, Rockefeller's oysters died on top of Megan Marshak. Hey, does she still have the office key?
- It's in the American tradition that when you strongly disagree with a law, acts of civil disobedience are called for. If anyone would be interested in a little civil disobediating with me, I can be reached at Tel. 555-742-6268.
- And finally, how do we make this resignation thing sound voluntary?
Diarist’s disclaimer.
No, I’m not proud of this mockery, it’s an addiction. So let me start by apologizing first to my family and to the good people of New York. I realize that with this lame crap I’m violating my obligations not only to the blogosphere but to the entire Van Patten family. That said, I will soon be entering at least a half-hour of seclusion, meditation and introspection. Trying to determine how to make amends, or at least how to lease amends for something less than $1,000 an hour.
I’m sure you realize this is a very private moment that I hope the media will respect . It has already met with complete indifference around this particular residence.
Two lingering questions:
I been hearing alot lately about these superdelicates and how everybody wants some. What I've never been able to figure out is what cycle do you wash your superdelicates on? Normal? Light? Gentle/Knit? Coldwater/warm? Do you need Woolite? What?
And another thing, that missile they used to shoot down that schoolbus-sized satellite. The articles keep saying everybody at Defense was worried about those Chinese SATs. Well, duh. Now they notice? The Asian kids have been cleaning our clocks on these tests for years and years. Why, because they STUDY! Don't complain about it, take Muffy off that pep squad and throw some calculus at her!
What? Oh....
This is Emily Litella, "Nevermind."
Former Dallas Film Commissioner Roger Burke published the satirical newsletter Occasional News Events From Around Texas And Selected States (acronym intentional) until he realized 10,000 others making up fake news on the Internet were probably already sufficient. His Daily Kos page includes a number of equally cerebral diaries, boasting as many a 12 readers to date. No known priors.