Blood on the Water

And fire in the sky!

The media, as I have read up to nine times in the past four days, smells bloodinthewater!and is circling. Like sharks! Which leads me to the observation that people have really got to come up with some fresher clichés.

But on whom will the snub noses of our brethren and sistren hammer, their awkwardly placed but numerous teeth trying to rip a goodly flesh-chunk? Take your pick: we've got Schwarzy, John Bolton, and our own dear Sheriff Yum.

I like a good donnybrook as much as the next girl—more, if my tingly reaction to the man at the CanyonFriday night is any indication: a man who with unexpected laser-like death beams from his eyes told a clumsy giant of six-foot-seven who outweighed him by 50 pounds to take his gold chain and his Rogaineand leave my bosom pal LongTallGinaalone.

I am impressed, sir, with your unexpected aggression in defense of a maiden who, it really must be admitted, started the whole thing. She always does, you know, since Gina can be trying.Indeed, you should have seen her in action on Saturday, when she was a bitch on freaking wheels.

But the donnybrooks! And the fiascoes! And the hullabaloos! Aside from my yelling at the stewardess Friday, "Do you know what 'personable' means? I said you were 'personable'! Shut up! You fucking idiot!" And her snarling, "You better write something fucking good about me this time!" And my screaming, "You were a bad waitress! It's not my fault you were hung-over!" preceding my own hangover by a slim five hours.

It was a full moon. What can I say? I think we'll be great friends.

* * *


Sheriff Yum

But let's move on to more important things: like the sheriff's burgeoning escandalo de sex!

I love the sheriff: you know I do. And there's nothing I like better than to see someone I love embroiled in a nasty sex-beef. And that's what we got this past week when someone who forcefully claims not to have been DeputyDASusanSchroeder(my favorite snugglebunny) handed a brown envelope to a Registerreporter.

In that brown envelope? Oh, honey, I thought you'd never ask.

It was a transcript regarding the long-rumored but little-seen sexy pics taken by the disgraced former Assistant Sheriff George Jaramillo . . . of his own sister-in-law.Ew! Ew! Ew! And then our sheriff seems to have told a DA he'd seen them engaged in sexual activity! Which is all that really matters. The influence peddling? The laundered campaign contributions? The convicted felons (for murder and shit!) who like to come by the office to hang out and shoot the breeze? That stuff's for wonks and gadflies and wonky gadflies. Like Shirley Grindle! And me!

But naked pics taken by one of the earth's greasier humans, ofhisownsister-in-law?Which apparently he liked to keep in a file folder and show folks?

We are all ears. And legs and lips and bosoms, of course, but that's just us. But here's a question: Why would Not-Susan smear Jaramillo and his sister-in-law with the juicy nastiness, when that just makes the sheriff—for whom Susan Schroeder's husband Mikeis The Cleaner—look like he's running a bawdyhouse? Susan has rarely struck me as retarded, but I guess if we're talking about Not-Susan, wait. Hmmm. Maybe it really wasn'tSusan. Strengthening my Spidey-sense that it actually wasn't Susan is the fact that Jaramillo's lawyer, and one of OC's Sexiest People(from his heyday defending the Haidl Gang-Rape Three) Joe Cavallo, says it was.

Unusually for Cavallo, he called no one a "slut."

The Times' Dana Parsons,the Reg's Slappy Mickadeit, even the Registereds, who fawn over Sheriff Carona as much as I do (but have the added bad taste to fawn over DA TonyRackauckasas well), are getting stern with Carona. They say his career's over. Forget lieutenant governor, they opine; one wag commenting on OCBlogsaid Carona wouldn't get elected to the board of his homeowners association. Nicely put, that.

They, it seems, are disappointed in America's Sheriff. Especially the ones who didn't get to see the snaps. All I want to know is: Was there beav?

I instant messaged my buddy Jon Fleischman, the sheriff's guy, for comment. "Hey sweetie!" I wrote. "How's tricks?"

Flash didn't fall for it, pretending not to be near his computer. He'll go places, he will. Like perhaps out for a nice lunch nosh with me! You bring the gossip, baby, I'll even pay the tab.

* * *

Really, you should have seen Gina in action at the Continentalthis weekend, and I was no slouch myself. It's like a great shark bitch feeding: the whole is greater than its bitterest parts.

Late-breaking update! Here's my good friend Jon on his computer machine:

Flash: Hi

CommieGirl: Oh, you just made it. I was claiming you were pretending not to be near your computer so as not to comment.

Flash: comment on what?

CommieGirl: Uh huh.

Flash: Happy Passover

CommieGirl: And to you!

Flash: Wassup, Becca?

CommieGirl: Darling, on what do you suppose i might like comment?

Flash: I don't know. There's too much going on these days.

CommieGirl: Hmmm. Mmmhmm?

Flash: OK. Sheriff Carona feels that just like they used tax laws to go after gangsters, we should use immigration laws to go after murderers, rapists and robbers.

Do you see my friend Jon's mad spin skillz, playing it so if I'm not focused on this week's actual policyquestion of whether the sheriff should be arresting illegal immigrants, I'm a prurient asshole? Luckily for you, I don't so much mind.

* * *

Did you know I was about to opine on John Bolton? It's true. It was going to be a funny little segueway between the fairly bad Elviswe saw, the losers we yelled at, and John Bolton, who yells at losers too (and chases them down hallways, and throws shoes at them, I believe), if when you say "losers" you mean "people whose assessments of intelligence differ from what John Bolton wants to hear." But nobody claimed that Gina and I could be diplomats, or even ambassadorto the United Nations! We'd never get security clearance, for one, due to all the hookers and booze.

But here's my wee little thought on this: John Bolton got Bernie Keriked. I mean, for crying out loud, John Negropontejust cruised through his nomination to director of National Intelligence, despite single-handedly inventing the Latin American Death Squad, because he declined to hit people (with shoes). When Bernie Kerik got nominated to head up Homeland Security, there was lots of grumbling, and lots of journalists actually doing their jobs, about things like the fact that he was in charge of training Iraqi police shortly after the national debate had focused onthe fact that the training of Iraqi police had been—well, let's parse the numbers from the Pentagon's own weekly report: the number of required Iraqi police for the transition was 89,369. After Kerik had completed his service (some months early), 65,084 were untrained, and 1,424 were in the process of getting there.

Good times.

But it wasn't that that did in Bernie Kerik, nor the mob ties, nor the influence peddling, nor the incompetence, nor the cover-story nanny problem. It was his snogging two women (neither his wife) in a love nest that had been donated ostensibly to resting rescue workers . . . at Ground Zero. Really, that was a bit too far.

So had John Bolton just been an odious, evil person who raped nuns and shot archbishops, things would have been fine. But throw a bad personality (or some poontang) in the mix? The intrepid media smell you coming, and they're finding ickier stories every day. Baby, you're as cooked as your yellowcake intelligence.

* * *


Papa Schwarzy

A sex scandal could never sink our good Governor Schwarzenegger, though not for his lack of trying. And I'd still sleep with him before I slept with KevinFederline,though I have to say: not happily.

But despite what the LATimesis crowing, PapaSchwarzyisn't dead and gone. Sure, the nurses and teachers and firefighters handed him his ass with an immensely well-orchestrated and intensive coalition effort against his assaults on public pensions and education, and his popularity, it wanes, but he was never the unassailable Leviathanthe media (and the Demsin the legislature, for a while) thought he was. Have you all forgotten the ass he was handed by puppyowners?Or when the retarded children jumped and shrieked on his ass in glee?

Look at George W. Bush: he's not popular either, and it's not like 9/11—the greatest defense failure in American history, I very much enjoy reminding you—happened on Schwarzenegger's watch. The gov's numbers are slipping, but who's gonna beat him? Phil Angelides?

Handing him his ass is nice (fo sho!), but it don't mean the WickedWitchis dead. It just means next time he'll take on the teachers or the nurses or the firefighters, but maybe not allofthematonce.Because while the assorted right-wing wackos who control the Republican Party in this state see firefighters and think "union" (just ask former Republican Assemblyman Ken Maddox, whose contributions from cops and firefighters led him to get his ass creamed an ugly 70-30 in the Republican state senate primary last year), most people look at firefighters and see really cute guys, albeit with porny mustaches.

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