Eliot P. Ness

Last week, I mentioned NY Gov. Spitzer’s creative use of campaign funds in a post about why I hate writing about politics. This afternoon, Spitzer got nailed in a federal investigation of a high-class prostitution ring (with lead reporting again by St. John’s College alum Danny Hakim!).

I consider prostitution a victimless crime, unless the John is ugly or fat or something. In fact, I’m only writing about this so I can write a post with the title of Howard Stern’s great character from The Gay Untouchables.

5 Replies to “Eliot P. Ness”

  1. found this on a message board:

    The real scandal is that these models seem a little ovepriced. We’ve seen homes being over-valued and now it’s the prostitutes! Yeah, they are hot — but not $10,000 an hour worth of hot. Unless their gold medalists or somehow triple jointed, then I’m not seeing the added value.

    And nobody is talking about how these models are driving up the cost of starter/entry level prostitutes throughout the country! Middle income Johns are being priced out of the market.

    Ultimately I think this scandal is for the best. The prostitution market has needed a healthy market correction for a long time now.

    How was your second day with junior?

  2. Heidi Fleiss was on Howard Stern’s show many years ago, and he asked her, “Why would celebrities like Billy Idol & Charlie Sheen be your clients? Can’t they get their share of hot women?”

    She said, “You have to understand: they weren’t paying for women to come home with them; they were paying the women to leave after they were done.”

  3. Rufus’ second day went fine. I went home at lunch to check on him, and he was accident-free and well-behaved in his cage/crate. So I decided to move most every book and other object out of my home office and put up a baby gate, so he’d have a little more room for the rest of the day.

    I came home 4 hours later to find him waiting for me at the top of the stairs, where I’d put the second baby gate. I’m glad I decided to close the bedroom and bathroom doors before I’d headed back to work.

    Quick inspection showed that he hadn’t wrecked anything and hadn’t had an accident. He had, however, somehow hidden one of his toys and one of our little fleece throws. I found the throw between a leather chair and its ottoman (he’d probably climbed on that and displaced the blanket), but I looked everywhere for his damned goonybird.

    Eventually, I figured out that he’d stood up (front paws) on the loveseat in the livingroom, which has the big window overlooking the front yard. He must’ve had the toy bird in his mouth then, because it was resting behind the loveseat, atop the baseboard.

    Still, outside of that and a snout-mark against my iMac’s monitor (his dim reflection must’ve intrigued him) he didn’t get into trouble, so I’m happy. I’ll be happier when he manages to sleep all night, since my nerves are getting shot from exhaustion.

    That said, he’ll be spending today in the crate; I’ll leave the office early to let him out and see how he handled things.

    Oh, and he’s much better with going down the stairs; up is still a big problem for both of us.

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