Here are the lessons we’ve learned in the past few days.
1. If you’re a well-known (Republican) governor in love with somebody in Argentina but trying to get back with your wife:
a. Don’t tell the AP about all the other women you didn’t get as far with
b. But if you’re so lovesick you just can’t stop talking, arrange to do all this before a major celebrity dies under mysterious circumstances
2. If you’re a major celebrity (probably not Republican) and you want everyone to forget you’re a pedophile:
a. Arrange to die under mysterious circumstances
b. Also arrange to do this in the midst of 1, 3, and 4
3. If you’re a well-known (Republican) senator trying to cover up an affair with someone on your campaign staff:
a. Don’t fire both her and her husband, who also works for you
b. Don’t get your parents to send her $96,000
c. Don’t tell a bunch of evangelicals about it
4. If you’re a too-well-known (Republican) governor and you’re sick of your job but want to be president:
a. Don’t quit
b. Don’t let your knocked-up daughter’s estranged boyfriend hear you talking about all the money you’re going to make
5. If you’re a well-known (Republican) columnist, and the (Republican) congressman sitting next to you at a dinner party puts his hand on your thigh:
a. TAKE IT OFF!
b. If for some reason you didn’t take it off, don’t laugh about it on MSNBC
c. And whatever you do, don’t stress that it was your inner thigh
And finally, if you’re George Bush, and you are the one who called John Ashcroft in the hospital where he was recovering from surgery, insisting on his signature for a still-secret domestic spying program, arrange to have the news come out after 1,2,3,4, and 5.