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March 12, 2008

An Open Letter from Governor Eliot Spitzer to the Citizens of New York

Dear Every Individual Citizen of New York,

Do you remember when you were a little kid and you crept into the kitchen, hoping to steal a cookie out of the cookie jar? Did your mom ever walk in on you and see your hand clutching one of her homemade cookies? Remember how that felt? Remember how terrified you were? Remember the paralysis that gripped your body?

Well, instead of having your mom catch you holding a cookie, imagine that she walked in and saw you with your pants around your ankles as you held the cookie jar against your waist in a manner that made it obvious that your cock was inside the jar, all while you pumped your hips faster than a jackhammer at a construction site. Imagine how you would have felt had your mom walked in at that precise moment.

Now for a second try to imagine that your best friend Tommy was also in the kitchen at the time and also butt naked, only your mom didn’t see him at first because he was kneeling behind you with his tongue shoved right up your bunghole. If that wasn’t bad enough, imagine what your mom would think if after focusing on the two of you, she saw her all-time favorite stuffed Teddy Bear – the one her great grandmother gave to her and that she gave to you – on the edge of the table with a huge purple strap-on attached to it, which confused the living crap out of her until she saw your friend Tiffany poke her head up from beneath the counter and immediately start blowing the Teddy Bear, obviously unaware that your mom had entered the room.

How do you think you’d feel then? Well, that’s how I feel right now, only ten times worse.

I’m not going to deny that I stuck my willie in some high-class call girls’ coochie cooches on more than one occasion. I am not going to share details that you all want to know, like whether I really had one of them fuck a Great Dane named Charlie, or whether I made one shove Hershey kisses up my butt and then suck them out with a portable Orrick vacuum cleaner – you know, the kind that can pick up bowling balls (those are really great vacuums, by the way), or whether I made one jerk me off three times so I could squirt “The Governor Was Here” all over the master bedroom wall (I always liked that scene from Shawshank Redemption when Brooks carved his name in a board near the ceiling before hanging himself – I liked it because Brooks hanged himself and I’ve never much cared for criminals, and he was a criminal), or whether one girl and I invited the maid to come in and both mooned her when she opened the door and then chastised her for coming up and entering the room even though we had a note on the door that said, “Senora, por favor entre la alcoba rapido,” or, well, I’m not going to give you those kinds of details because they just aren't relevant.

What I will say is this. I’ve always wanted to watch a woman get eaten out by a big bird. I’m talking a bird as big as that yellow son-of-a-bitch on Sesame Street. Unfortunately, the one time I casually mentioned this to my wife, she said she didn’t want to get eaten out by an Ostrich. She tells me that, yet somehow you people are telling me I’m the bad guy here. Who the hell said anything about an Ostrich? I never said it HAD to be an Ostrich. Obviously that would have been ideal, but a flamingo could have worked well too. Hell, all I did was make her stand behind me when I told the entire world I was unfaithful to her, yet you people make it sound like I made her be in the room and watch me fuck the hookers. Get a grip.

I don't know why everyone is so upset about this. Have any of you looked at me? Seriously, have any of you taken a good look? I look a little bit like Gollum from those Lord of the Rings movies. I was hoping to prosecute that Peter Jackson S.O.B. who directed them. You know, he's the fat dude who looks like a homeless caveman. One time, I met him at a party and he looked at me, but his eyes didn’t twinkle. That pissed me off. Why the hell wouldn't someone's eyes twinkle when they met me? I AM Eliot just as Jordan IS Michael and Bryant IS Kobe and Madonna is Madonna. (I don't know her last name or even her real name. Hell, if I could, I'd prosecute her too because that's fucked up.) Unfortunately, I got elected governor before I could really dedicate my time to ruining Peter Jackson's life, which is a shame because that non-twinkle-in-the-eye bastard disrespected me.

Anyway, back to me. Do you realize that I’m as physically attractive as Sloth from Goonies or as Olden Polynice, formerly of the Los Angeles Clippers, or as Jimmy Kimmel’s left testicle after Kimmel's spent an hour on the treadmill (which by the looks of him doesn't seem to be something that actually ever happens). In any event, I ain’t pretty, folks. I ain't even somewhat pretty. Even my mom told me I was like the ugly duckling in that stupid story only I never turned into a Swan.

What's my point? Of course, I had to pay for some good-looking tang!

I’ve been trying to figure out what to do. At first, I thought, “I’ll just say I found Jesus.” But then I realized I’m a Jew and it’s one thing to tell your wife you’ve been slipping the one-eyed salami in some hookers the last six years; it’s quite another to tell her that and then spring the whole Jesus card on her the same week. Hell, if I did that, she’d probably expect me to turn into Sammy Davis, Jr., by Friday and that'd fuck things up even more because that dude's been dead for quite some time. So I can’t really find religion like most bastards do because I already have religion. I also can’t buy her flowers. I did that once after I had her father indicted and it didn’t work - she didn't even say thank you - so why would I want to do that now. After all, I want to save my money – I’m going to need to pay a lot of it to lawyers and obviously figure out how I can save up for another go with “Kristen.”

You know what I really hate. I never got to bang an Asian. Not once. I could have. But I was always drawn to the brunettes. I banged a few black chicks – mostly to piss off my mom – but never an Asian. That’s upsetting. I don’t know when I’ll get the chance anytime soon. I imagine the news media is going to be on me like bumps on a leper.

Let me know if you guys want to know more. Maybe I’ll write a book or something. I don’t know what firm is going to want me. I guess I could practice with that idiot Mark Geragos in California. He’d probably like the publicity of having me join his office.

Anyway, I’m tired and my advisers have told me I need to keep this relatively short and on point, so I’m just going to wrap it up, something by the way that I didn’t want to do with any of the Emperor’s Girls. God I'm smart. That was a really clever line. Eliot, you ARE the best.

Oh, as for what the hell's going to happen. I’m not going to be Governor anymore. Good luck with the quack who’s the Lieutenant Governor. He's going to blow.

E. Spitzer

P.S. – Ever heard that joke about the store that has liquor in the front and poker in the rear. Get it, LICK-HER in the front and POKE-HER in the rear. Ha, one of the hookers told me that. Makes me laugh every time.

Posted by fool on March 12, 2008 01:05 AM

Comments

Posted by: acaligurl at March 12, 2008 12:01 PM

Posted by: Wiseazzz at March 12, 2008 08:32 PM

Posted by: teahouseblossom at March 12, 2008 11:39 PM

Posted by: miss happy at March 13, 2008 11:39 AM