In case you were in a coma yesterday and also turn to our humble website as your single source of information, have we got news for you! Glance at any american newspaper today, or certainly any of the New York tabloids (Which I am moments away from going to buy– all of them, to have as keepsakes) you will see that Eliot Spitzer, Governor of the Empire State, crusader for all things right and just, has gotten ensnared in your typical your run-of-the-mill, career-ending, deeply-flawed character kind of scenario: he likes fucking whores. Expensive ones. We’ve read all the long articles in the Times as well as the affidavit from the investigation, and we’ll bring you a couple of our favorite details from this story, the best story that ever was, after the jump.

Oh, Eliot. You could have been president one day if only you could keep your penis out of illegal snatch! But like Odysseus lured by the intoxicating Siren song, you could not help yourself and now look at the mess we’re in! Your political career is over. Indeed, if you make it to the end of the week, that will be miraculous! But in keeping with this election season of change, New York is about to get two firsts in its soon-to-be replacement governor: blind and black! Eliot, would you mind hanging around for a couple of days just so there’s not a power vacuum while some work gets done to the governor’s various offices to make them more blind-friendly? K, thanks!

Anyway, details we like, starting with Spitzer clever use of a false name. The room at the Mayflower Spitzer used to host his $4,200 companion was reserved under the name George Fox. Likewise, the girls knew him as George Fox, though the clever ones who fucked him in New York and maybe picked up a newspaper the next day may have had a hunch he was governor. But anyway, clever not to use your real name Eliot! Only here’s a funny thing. There is a guy named George Fox who happens to be one of your major donors! I bet he’s not that happy with this little comedy of mistaken identity! To us at least, that name belongs to Eliot, whom we will refer to as “The Fox” in future postings on this issue.

This is worth noting also because it underscores Spitzers commitment to sound fiscal policy. Since he, erm, didn’t use all his time during a previous love-in, he apparently had s $500 credit. So the day the FBI happened to first catch him on tape regarding this thing, he was haggling over the price of his top-shelf, top-dollar snatch.

Also, just a hint: there’s a thing called a cashiers check. This whole investigation (the one that led to the break up of the porn ring and Spitzer’s impending resignation) began with the IRS. Spitzer’s bank let them know he was moving money around in weird ways, making large deposits of cash into shell accounts. Since he was/is the governor of New York, they assumed it was some kind of political corruption and got to work on it, says the New York Times! Bummer for the folks at Emperor’s Club. If it wasn’t for their rich and powerful clientèle, one client in particular, client 9, I believe, they’d still be in business! So, make a note. Cashier’s check. Make it out to cash. FedEx it. That is, of course, unless you’re completely self-destructive and subconsciously looking for a way out. In that case, you did perfectly.

And quickly, let’s count the possible crimes. There’s the moving people across state lines for the purposes of paying for sex and of course just your basic paying for sex one. But also there’s one called structuring wherein someone is doing odd things with their bank accounts in order to conceal payments for, say, prostitution. So, that’s 3 by our count. Please leave any others in the comments!

And finally, we were a little too slow on the draw and didn’t manage to register client9.com before someone beat us to the punch. Damn!

Oh, Eliot. The nation thanks you for your service. Our country has been under attack by unending media coverage of a painfully stalemated presidential nomination contest. When you’re country needed you most, you rose to the challenge. This story will be a good– nay, a marvelous one– for weeks to come. Thank you, Eliot. Thank you.

Related:
Politicized? Quite Possibly. But Spitzer Should Still Go [No More Mister Nice Blog]
It’s Worse [Feministe]