But let me tell you why ...

There has been much cackling and giggling chez Miniature Rose these past three days.

It's not that I care about the soon-to-be-Ex-Guvnah's peccadilloes per se. He's not the first, nor will he be the last, narcissistic, powerful man to explore his {ahem} options.

It's the hypocrisy. It's the hubris. It's the schadenfreude. It's the unfolding of a 21st century Greek tragedy before our very eyes that brings such amusement to this house.

A couple of years ago, my Mother-In-Law called in the middle of the day. Before she even said hello, she blurted out, "I just want you to know that it wasn't me on the cover of the New York Post, and I haven't been arrested."

The rather large insurance company, for which my MIL still works, was a very lucrative target for Mr. Spitzer when he was the AG of this great state. I won't pretend to understand the larger picture, let alone the nuances of Mr. Spitzer's charges against this particular insurance behemoth. However, it was crystal clear to us, from the beginning, that this "campaign against corporate corruption" had nothing to do with business practices, and everything to do with The Steamroller's political aspirations.

Was it a mere coincidence that the photographers from the NY Post were waiting outside the offices of this insurance behemoth when several of its employees were frogmarched out of there like war criminals? Wasn't that a nice little bit of free advertising for Mr. Spitzer's gubernatorial aspirations?

On behalf of the entire state of New York, I'd like to apologize to the world for the scuzziness of our soon-to-be-ex governor. I wish I could offer y'all some mental bleach.