How’s this been as the mother of all wake-up calls?
I suppose it was always going to end in tears given what we now know, but what a bitter irony it must be that your bacon gets cooked by a voicemail plea to Jaimee Grubbs to save your bacon with Elin.
Not even Karl Rove could’ve conjured a plausible deniability after that Weapon of Mass Destruction hit the airwaves.
And it’s not like you could’ve kept hiding behind polemics posted on your website about privacy.
No, you had to face the music, which is what I’m sure your team of advisors told you this morning, however reluctantly. You had no choice. And at the very least, it’d stop the procession of skanks coming out from under the sheets with stories to sell.