“Client 9” Cuff-linked to Girlie Circle

Koop on Spitzer: "Boys will be boys…"

March 11, 2008 – Geneva (apj.us) – Silda Spitzer, the beautiful wife of Governor Eliot Spitzer – a.k.a. ‘Client Number 9’ – stood by her man yesterday even as Michelle Obama was text messaging her, “Keep your piehole shut, honey!”

Watching this circus as one network after another broke their necks trying to be first to announce that Spitzer was a stick man, I was reminded of the Bible's Song of Solomon 1:9

I have compared thee, O my love, to a company of horses in Pharaoh's chariots.

Only Elliot Spitzer was comparing a multi-thousand-dollar-per-hour hooker to those horses – and Silda, impractical enough to believe it, was right next to him buying the lines he must have fed her about protecting the children and the family, the entire government of New York State, and “all the good work we’ve done up until now.”

Well, boys will be boys.

“I’m such an ass,” he added, “I forgot to tell George Fox that he was in Washington sharing my room that night!”

Spitzer and his wench were scheduled to use a room at the once trendy Mayflower Hotel which was rented under the name George Fox. Fox is a close friend and supporter of Spitzer, and seemingly a beard for Governor Steamroller when he is “out of town on business.” Pretty wily huh? More on Mr. Fox later.

The word is out that Spitzer nearly fainted after the New York Times phoned him up just after everyone in the Times’ news room gathered around the speakerphone tittering, and asked him about a law enforcement report that the Governor was a member of the “Emperor’s Club” a worldwide prostitution service for those men who could afford to spend a few thousand dollars to forget they were getting old. Spitzer had no comment (save, perhaps, to pretend he was vomiting).

In the unsealed FBI affidavit detailing the operation of the Emperors Club, Spitzer was simply called “Client Number 9” – which unintentionally makes Spitzer sound like 007. At the price Spitzer was paying, you can bet your bottom dollar that he was "shaken and stirred."

Whether or not an enemy of Governor Spitzer or the normal Republican spies inside the FBI made certain Spitzer’s rendezvous went public isn’t the point.

He seems to have done it, admitted it, and apologized for it.

Yet, even as I write, I know that he is political toast and that in the end, probably within a few hours, he’ll be resigning and soon discovering the wonders of crack (pardon the pun) somewhere on Playa Blanca.

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