The District's Rebecca Schoenkopf got to know Sheriff Mike Carona in her OC Weekly days — he once sent her a bottle of wine and chocolate for her son — and she took perhaps too much delight in seeing him defrocked (allegedly!) in court this week.

Mike Carona is a man who knows girls like a little attention and a little something sweet. And pedicures. Once, we got those too. He paid.

I watched last Wednesday at the Ronald Reagan federal building in Santa Ana as the sheriff’s bail was set by a federal magistrate—as well as the bails of his wife and (according to the 29-page indictment) long-term mistress. America’s Sheriff faces a possible century in the clink, and it was the happiest day I’ve had in forever. Am I a terrible person? I think we all know the answer is ‘yes.’

Before the hearing, I gathered with my reporter friends in the (travertine) halls of justice. It was a Big Kids’ club—and one that would have me as a member. We gossiped and giggled and guffawed, and we bemoaned the lack of R. Scott Moxley, from whose Weekly stories on the sheriff’s corruption(s) had surely sprung the feds’ investigation and eventual charges. That’s some good journalisting right there, Mox. Like I said when I left that rag: the news boys were always either busting someone out of prison or putting someone in it, depending on the week. This week was the latter, and oh, it felt good.

Inside the courtroom, the sheriff was looking sweet. There’s something about cops, Republicans and Marines that gets to me: I think it’s the manly way they want to shoot and kill people. It’s testosterrific!

Commie Girl (the name of her column) says she used to see Carona around "because I frequently crash parties and also because I used to be engaged to a GOP operative."