Capitol Punishment

How Arnold Schwarzenegger stopped worrying and learned to love selling out to special interests

Shit. They'll probably think I'm some bimbo broadcastjournalist or something. I'm mortified, appalled and humiliated.

I'm humiliated like Richard Riordan on Jay Leno's soundstage. I'm humiliated like Schwarzenegger's erstwhile friend, the one whose wife he publicly banged. I'm humiliated like any number of women held down and molested on rowdy movie sets—or even the British talk show host he manhandled.

I'm still not bothering to put allegedly.

Sue me.

(And I still find that to be particularly well-put.)

I'm humiliated, and I'm out of there.

I should have gone to Fresno.

Sue me.

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