Watergate brought down one government and by crikey, 34 years on and half a world away, it might bring down another. I've been relatively sanguine about this administration over the past nine years; the "forged" painting didn't really exercise me.
The turn-around on the smacking bill - well, that's just real politik.
And attempting to break the land speed record in a Government car - hell, everyone would have enjoyed that until the PM got sprung. Hanging her drivers out to dry was a rather disturbing aspect of the whole affair - a foreshadowing of how Owen Glenn would be shafted by a ruthless ruler. Still, I've teetered on the brink.
But to hear that the Department of Building and Housing is to regulate the water pressure of my shower is a step too far. As of February, the maximum allowable flow rate in new homes or renovated bathrooms will be six litres a minute. At present, most showers run at 16 or more litres a minute.
Oh, they tried to soft-soap us and tell us we wouldn't know the difference - but if there's one thing I regard as sacrosanct, it's my ablutions.
There are few things more satisfying than a strong, hot shower or a long, hot bath. I escape to the bath with bath oils and books and a glass of wine when the world gets too much and, half an hour later, I'm ready to rejoin the fray. Cheaper than psychotherapy and surely a harmless pleasure.
And when it comes to showering, being blasted by a spray of water with the strength of a water cannon is to know one of the blessings of living in the First World. I've had lesser showers before, showers where they've tried to make up for the lack of water by increasing the force, and it's like showering in needles. Starting the day doing a St Sebastian is not something I recommend.
I've also had showers where I've had to chase the drips around the shower stall - drips as in water, not drips as in idiots. Although if the number crunching, walk-sock-wearing drips from the DBH did turn up and try to put a regulator on my shower head I would indeed chase them around the shower stall, out of my house and back to their energy-efficient little offices.
In Cambodia and Cuba, I've experienced bathing under the miserable spit of a thread of water and I've been grateful. You make do when you have to and when you're just a passing visitor, you don't complain.
But by God, you can bloody well let rip when your own Government tries to obviate something you hold dear.
According to the lackeys from the DBH, it's an energy-saving device - part of the sustainability measures that were included in the revised Building Act. Less water used, less power needed to heat the water - marvellous.
On paper, it makes sense. But I'm not wasteful. I know how precious water is in other countries so when I have a bath, I'll (usually) use the water to fill the washing machine and to flush the loo. When I shower, I'll put a bucket over the plughole (most times) and use that for hand washing or again, the overworked loo.
We don't have a dishwasher or heated towel rails. I line-dry all the clothes and we only have the one TV - and it's not a 42-inch flat screen, much to the Irishman's chagrin. And we're on gas, so I don't cause a spike in the national grid when I'm taking care of personal hygiene.
But do you know what galls me beyond belief? I cannot believe I have to justify my desire for a good strong shower! I cannot believe I have to make a case for having the water pressure of my shower the way I like it. It's all alarmingly Jesuit. Cold, dribbling showers are only a step away from hair shirts and daily thrashings - all because we have the temerity to have bettered ourselves. Bloody Greens.
I blame myself. Other people saw this level of legislation coming and were shouting warnings years ago. I had my head in the sand. I thought people were being alarmist, or over-reacting, or just a bit one-eyed in their political thinking.
But oh no. They were right and I was wrong. I still don't know who I'll vote for this election, but Nick Smith may have won me over with his robust defence of the right to shower in peace. Praise John Key and pass the blue rinse.