Is anyone going to lose his or her $150,000-a-year state pension over this Leigha Genduso scandal?

That’s always the ultimate question in the hackerama — how is whatever-it-is going to affect my kiss in the mail?

Among all the multiple scandals in Massachusetts, this one seems different. Some cops will always go bad, just like people in any other line of work. But usually police don’t go over to the dark side until they’ve had their badge and their gun and their cruiser (and in Leigha’s case her K-9) for a while.

Think bent G-men Zip Connolly, H. Paul Rico, Vino Morris and a host of others, or trooper Richard Schneiderhan, or BPD detective/hitman Bill Stuart. Corrupt as they all were, they were at least nominally clean when they were sworn in.

Not Leigha. Her attention-grabbing past was there for all to see. And somebody has to answer for this, or should, although I have my doubts about the ongoing MSP internal investigation into how she was hired.

At her boyfriend’s trial, she admitted under a grant of immunity to committing a host of major felonies — kingpin-level drug dealing, perjury, income tax evasion and money laundering. But even if you put all that aside, what exactly were her qualifications for being a state trooper?

She was a cocktail waitress at Scuttlebutts in Salem. Period.

Oh, I forgot, she’s also a web designer of sorts. When her gangster boyfriend, Sean Bucci, decided to set up a website to identify law enforcement informants, she’s the one who came up with the name — WhosARat.com.

Here’s what the cops said about Leigha’s website:

“Although BUCCI posted a disclaimer that the website’s intent is to assist in criminal defense, it clearly has an underlying intimidation aspect.”

Nice, huh?

This website — which is still around — was such a big deal that the fat thug Bucci actually appeared on Geraldo Rivera’s TV show in 2007. You can still watch the segment on YouTube. When asked about the peril posed to informants by being listed as rats, Bucci replies:

“Don’t come crying because you’re on a website, because you’ve already done the damage. You already signed up for the program. Deal with it.”

Nobody noticed any of this? Nobody? Leigha Genduso was in the crosshairs of a major federal drug kingpin takedown — I count at least six local and state cops, six DEA agents.

And you’re telling me nobody realized that this gangster’s moll — the Bonnie to Sean Bucci’s Clyde — had gone on the job and was making $151,000 a year?

Has anyone seen Sean Bucci lately? He was sentenced to 151 months, and the feds seized $2.7 million in assets. This proud “Irish-Italian,” as he described himself, much to the chagrin of all Irish and Italians, has been out of prison since October 2015.

Do you suppose Bucci ever hooks up with his ex? Probably not, considering his public disdain for rats and snitches, which Leigha Genduso most assuredly is, in addition to all of her other attributes.

And where is Gov. Charlie “Tall Deval” Baker on all this? I know he’s got a whole host of other scandals in state government that he’s very busy ignoring, but consider how quickly he moved against the state trooper known as “Big Irish.”

I’m not defending Big Irish’s rude comments on that cop website. But seriously, if making asinine comments in an internet chat room becomes a firing offense, there’s not going to be anybody left to bag groceries at Market Basket, let alone patrol the Southeast Expressway.

I’m sure Tall Deval is working hard to get to the bottom of his latest state police scandal. Like AG Maura Healey, he will leave no stone unturned — except the one Leigha is hiding under.

Meanwhile, wherever she’s stashed now, Leigha still has a listing on a “talent” website.

“Age 36 Female Boston MA. Height 5’3”. Weight 116 lbs. Body Type Petite. Ethnicity Caucasian. Hair Color Brown. Eye Color Brown.”

As for her resume, the website notes that Leigha has “not yet provided this information.”

One final question for Leigha: Is Scuttlebutts hiring?

Buy Howie’s new book “What Really Happened” at howiecarrshow.com.

What exactly has Charlie Baker accomplished as governor?

I’ll wait for your answer. There’s no rush. We’ve got all day. While you’re thinking, can I mention a few, a very few, of his signature achievements?

The man known as Tall Deval makes dumb Super Bowl bets with the governor of whatever state the NFC champion plays in.

He announces his “disappointment” with Donald Trump at least as often as AG Maura Healey files one of her own frivolous lawsuits against the federal government.

He occasionally gets a stupid buzz cut for charity, as he did yesterday with Tom Brady. (Rather than shaving his own head, wouldn’t it be more satisfying if Tall Deval started shaving the bloated pensions of all these dodgy state police brass who are “retiring” one step ahead of the posse?)

Whenever there’s a snowstorm, he travels to MEMA headquarters in Framingham and advises everyone to bundle up and stay warm and try not to go out on the highways, especially if you’re a non-essential, I mean non-emergency state worker.

Every Monday at the State House, he has a closed meeting with an unindicted co-conspirator in a federal corruption indictment, a Senate leader who has since had to step down in the midst of an FBI investigation of his spouse, and his lieutenant governor who likes to pose for pictures with a suspended female state trooper who has admitted to perjury, drug-dealing, income tax evasion and money laundering.

He signed the transgender bathroom bill to allow “self-identifying” male sex offenders to use the ladies’ bathroom.

He vowed to veto the obscene 40 percent pay raise for the legislature — but only after the unindicted co-conspirator and the guy who had to step down because of the FBI investigation of his husband had rounded up enough votes to override the veto.

I could go on, but maybe you’re ready to share with us your list of Tall Deval accomplishments?

No?

Well, I’ll just keep talking then. You know, they used to say that Mussolini made the trains run on time. When it comes to Tall Deval, we’d be happy if he could just get the MBTA trains to run, period.

You know, when most politicians in executive offices run for re-election, they can claim at least a few victories. Whatever you say about Trump, his administration has demolished ISIS, gotten the economy out of its eight-year Obama malaise, and had an excellent judge confirmed onto the Supreme Court.

Yet Baker has no serious opposition. You know the old saying, you can’t beat somebody with nobody, even if that somebody hasn’t done a damn thing worth a damn.

Tall Deval is a guy who was elected in 2014 only because he lucked into running against the Hillary Clinton of Massachusetts — hapless Marsha Coakley.

And as long as the economy is humming, and everybody has money in his pocket, nobody’s really going to notice that state government is an absolute catastrophe, and is only going to get worse.

Plus, attacking Trump on practically a daily basis keeps the moonbats at bay.

As long as he says the right things, Tall Deval can be their token Republican, even if he’s Republican In Name Only.

Bottom line: If Trump didn’t exist, Tall Deval would have to invent him.

Buy Howie’s new book, “What Really Happened,” at howiecarrshow.com.

So Barack Obama is in talks with Netflix, The New York Times reports, “to produce a series of high-profile shows that will provide him a global platform after his departure” from relevance last year.

High profile? Global platform? Uh, won’t the ratings determine whether this is really high-profile TV, or just another big payday Obama didn’t come near earning on his own merits, like every other damn thing that’s been handed to him throughout his pampered, indolent life?

Still, imagine the possibilities of Barack Obama providing “exclusive content” and “inspirational stories” for Netflix.

What can I say except to paraphrase one of Dear Leader’s most memorable statements: “If you like your Netflix, you can keep your Netflix.”

What could be more inspirational than tales about one’s family? Obama could do a miniseries about his mother — “I Remember Obamama.” Not to mention his maternal grandmother — “A Typical White Person.”

And then, of course, there are his beloved aunt and uncle, who moved from Kenya to Massachusetts as illegal immigrants to go on welfare and get arrested for drunk driving. They were Dreamers before there were Dreamers — dreaming of living large on the arm, complements of Uncle Sap.

Their stories could be titled “The Man from U.N.C.L.E. Omar” and “Name That Zeituni.”

How about some quiz shows for Netflix’s Obama channel? Given the economy’s parlous state as he departed last year, let’s call one show “The Wheel of Misfortune.” Given the Obama administration’s record for veracity, perhaps Susan Rice could host “To Tell the Truth 2018.”

Speaking of Susan Rice and her lengthy record of prevarications, how about a Biblical epic for next Easter — “Benghazi Hur.”

Don’t you love the History Channel? It’s one of the top-rated cable networks. They say plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery, so maybe Obama can lift the concepts of some of their best shows.

Forget “Pawn Stars.” Obama’s screen gem will be “Con Stars.”

He’s also a history buff. Perhaps he could commission a documentary about the building of what he calls “the Intercontinental Railroad.” Or on the proud history of Navy “corpse-men,” as he pronounces it.

Then he and Michelle can join John Kerry for a tour of the 57 states that Obama identified in his first run for president. Kerry’s second wife’s first husband’s trust fund could even sponsor the series — call it “Heinz 57.”

ESPN is shedding anchors left and right. That leaves an opening for the Obama Channel. He can host his own sports show, riffing on such topics as March Madness — will “Syracus,” as he spells the ACC semi-power, make it off the bubble tonight? And how about those “Nittaly Lions” of Penn State? When is the White Sox’ home opener at “Cominski Field”?

Religious programming brings in billions every year. Think Joel Osteen, or EWTN. Obama could talk about the religious influences on his life, like the Rev. Jeremiah Wright.

Actually, you know, Obama’s going to have to provide 24/7 programming. Why not give the Rev. Wright his own show? ABC’s a.m. agitprop is “Good Morning America.” Rev. Wright can call his program “Good Morning God Damn America.”

Then there’s Obama’s secular mentor, Saul Alinsky. The title for that series is obvious — “Better Call Saul (Alinsky).” Instead of “The Big Lebowski” it could be “The Big Alinsky.”

Animal Planet is another successful cable network. Viewers love animals — think Mr. Ed? Barack should do a remake about a horse of a different color that would match his own political views — Mr. Red.

Remember “This Old House”? To appeal to Obama’s constituents, he could bring it back as “This Old Public Housing Project.”

How about a sitcom or two about some of Obama’s wacky out-of-control agencies — the EPA, the Justice Department running guns to Mexican drug dealers, etc. Long before Lois Ler­ner blamed the unconstitutional persecutions of Tea Party groups by the IRS on a “rogue office” in Cincinnati, there was a comedy called “WKRP in Cincinnati.”

Stand by for “IRS in Cincinnati.” Bring back Loni Anderson in the role of Lois Lerner. The dialogue is easy. All Lois says is, “I’ll take the Fifth.”

Nothing beats a good spy movie, especially James Bond. Obama can star as his own OO7 — “From Kenya with Love.”

Next let’s remake “Breaking Bad” as “Baraking Bad.”

Then there was “Undercover Boss.” Maybe Obama can go incognito to various small businessmen who’ve been working 70 hours a week for the past 30 years. At the end of the show, he can reveal himself, not as their corporate owner, but as the tax collector. Instead of yelling “You’re fired!” Barack can say, “You didn’t build that!”

Such potential! I do hope Barack gets his own channel, like Howard Stern has on satellite radio. I’ve even got a perfect name for the Barack Channel, but unfortunately Jim Carrey got there first.

Dumb and Dumber.

Buy Howie’s new book, “What Really Happened,” at howiecarrshow.com.

Boy, are the Kennedys going to hate this new movie about Teddy.

The title of the movie: “Chappaquiddick.” What more does America’s First Family need to know before they start booing and hissing?

The movie debuts April 6, and after viewing it Monday night, I can tell you it’s a great film. Here are a few of the more memorable scenes:

As the Oldsmobile sinks in the tidal pond and the water rises around Mary Jo Kopechne, with her final panicked breaths she is reciting the Act of Contrition.

As Ted tells his crippled, dying father Joe what has happened, the old man croaks out, “Alibi!”

In the car with Joan on the way to Mary Jo’s funeral, Teddy tells his fuming wife: “Thanks for doing this, Joanie.” To which Joan replies, “Go (bleep) yourself, Teddy!”

Even though his advisers warn him not to wear a fake neck brace to Mary Jo’s funeral, he does so anyway. When the newspapers rip him to shreds for his cynical ploy, Teddy admits to his posse: “The neck brace was a mistake, I see that now.”

At the compound in Hyannis Port, Teddy tells his advisers that he’ll handle the scandal control “since it’s my political future at stake.” And Robert McNamara, the former defense secretary, interrupts him to say, “You won’t have a political future if you’re in jail, Ted.”

When Ted mentions to his two pals that he plans to say Mary Jo was driving the death car, U.S. attorney Paul Markham informs him, “Attorney-client privilege doesn’t extend to aiding and abetting.”

Even a few years ago, “Chappaquiddick” could have never, ever been made in Hollywood. A few producers tried, and they never worked in this town again.

Ask Geraldo Rivera sometime what happened when ABC News tried to do a documentary on the strange death of Marilyn Monroe. Teddy tried to shut down this newspaper and the New York Post after I started calling him Fat Boy when his weight ballooned above 300 pounds in the late 1980s.

The Kennedys likewise almost prevented the publication of two unflattering tell-all books about Fat Boy — “The Senator” and “Senatorial Privilege.” The author of the latter, Leo Damore, ended up committing suicide after he was blackballed in the publishing industry.

But that was then, and this is now, and the Kennedys have become a national laughingstock. Not only is this new movie coming out, but Damore’s book is being reissued next month, under the title “Chappaquiddick.” (I wrote the foreword for the new edition.)

The actor who plays Teddy, Jason Clarke, is amazing. He’s Australian, just like the guy who played crooked FBI agent Zip Connolly in the movie “Black Mass.” What is it about these Aussies that they can do such a bang-up job playing bent Boston Irish criminals?

A couple of more great moments in “Chappaquiddick”:

Teddy is ordering one of his minions to hustle Mary Jo’s corpse off the island, and the hack says OK “but there may be a delay if they want to perform an autopsy.” And Teddy starts yelling, “Why do you think I want it out of here!?”

Right before his speech to the nation, Teddy tells his cousin, Joe Gargan, that all men are flawed — “Moses had a temper, Peter betrayed Jesus, I have Chappaquiddick.” To which Cousin Joe replies, “Yeah, Moses had a temper but he never left a girl at the bottom of the Red Sea.”

Buy Howie’s book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com.

For the record, I’m pretty sure I was the first person in the media to demand that Sen. Elizabeth Warren take a DNA test.

This is from my column, April 18, 2014: “There is only one way to settle once and for all the question of whether the fake Indian is or is not a real Indian. She needs to take a DNA test.”

Before that, I was talking about DNA tests on my radio show, and generously offering to pay.

So the fake Indian has been stonewalling for years.

I’m through waiting for the fake Indian, although I think we all believe, as the Berkshire Eagle suggested, that she probably already has taken the test, and, uh, not gotten the results she was hoping for. So I’ve ordered DNA test kits for myself and my two radio producers. I can have one overnighted for her.

Fake Indian, both of us can take the test together at the cheese shop of your choosing in Harvard Square.

I have a backup plan, but it will involve some sneaky stuff, which I’ve tried before. In 2012, when she was running against Scott Brown, one of my guys tricked her into autographing a copy of “Pow Wow Chow” — the cookbook where she plagiarized her “Indian” recipes from a French chef who worked for The New York Times.

She was campaigning in Kelley Square in Worcester when my man handed her the cookbook and a pen. Before she realized she was being pranked, Fauxcahontas pulled the cap off the pen — with her teeth.

I sent the pen off for testing. But alas, there wasn’t enough saliva on it.

Sunday, I assume she’ll be at Halitosis Hall for the annual St. Patrick’s Day time. It is an election year, after all. So if someone could grab her water glass …

Still, I’d prefer to go one-on-one with her in a DNA test, even though I’m pretty sure I have zero Native-American heritage. I’m guessing that as remote as my chances of winning the casino lottery are, they are still much better than hers.

By the way, the fake Indian is fortunate that she’s working this grift now, and not a century ago.

Does the name William Henry “Lone Star” Dietz ring a bell? He was one of the first coaches of the Boston Redskins, the NFL franchise now in Washington.

During World War I, there was a draft-exempt classification known as “Non-Citizen Indian.”

Lone Star, a white man, decided that, like the fake Indian of today, he knew who he was, and that was exempt from trench duty. The FBI thought otherwise, and Lone Star was indicted in 1919. At his first trial, in Spokane, the judge told the jury to consider whether Dietz “believed” himself to be an Indian. Lone Star got a hung jury, but he was convicted the second time, and he served a month in federal prison before resuming his post as coach of the Redskins.

The lesson here for Warren, the situation your forked tongue has gotten you into is pretty embarrassing, but it could be worse. You could be looking at hard time.

One last thing Senator — do you mind if we start calling you “Lone Star”?

Buy Howie’s new book, “What Really Happened,” at howiecarrshow.com.

Have you noticed that the more we pay our state legislators, the dumber they get?

The latest example is Rep. Michelle DuBois (D-Brockton), who this past week complained that somehow, a sign bearing Gen. Joseph Hooker’s name outside one of the entrances to the State House is demeaning to women because, well, like, hookers, or something.

Let’s not get into the etymology (to use one of the many words the extinguished solon doesn’t know the meaning of). Who knows why the powers that be felt compelled to put the bust-out Union general’s statue outside the State House along with the words, “General Hooker Entrance.”

Confusing, right? I mean, if the State House has a “general” hooker entrance, a visitor might reasonably conclude that somewhere there might exist a “special” hooker entrance to the building, you know, for women like Stormy Daniels.

Now, this DuBois is the same solon who last year tried to give a heads-up to all of the illegal alien criminals in her district that ICE raids might soon be coming down, although they weren’t. Maybe that’s where Oakland Mayor Libby Schaaf got her bright idea.

You know, Brockton politics used to be associated with dodgy families like the Creedons, who were always getting into jams and scheming how to pass their hack sinecures down to their brothers, or wives, or, more recently, their nephews.

But compared to Rep. DuBois, the Creedons — Clerk Bob and Judge Mike and Rep. Geraldine and all the rest of them — look positively Churchillian.

Someone once said that the legislature is America’s native criminal class. In retrospect, those were the good old days. Crooks have a certain low cunning that has all but vanished in this era of six-figure no-show jobs on Beacon Hill.

Say what you will about the now-indicted ex-Sen. Brian “Multiple Choice” Joyce, but he was old school — if he wanted something, he didn’t wait to have it spoon fed to him, like he was some kind of domesticated pet. No, any shiny object Multiple Choice Joyce coveted, he went out and stole it himself. Or so the federal indictment says.

People used to complain that there were too many lawyers in the Legislature. Well, at least lawyers support themselves, as do morticians, bar owners, insurance agents, Realtors, etc., all of which legislators used to be.

No longer. Most reps now list their “profession” as “legislator.” Yikes. I’d be more impressed if they claimed their trade was “Patriots fan” or “people person.”

Rep. DuBois is typical of this new breed. But how is her ignorance any worse than that of, say, Jen Benson of Lunenburg, who at a candidates’ forum once explained that it was the Supreme Court that granted women the right to vote. (No, it wasn’t.)

Then there was Rep. Sarah Peake of Provincetown, who complained about an old oil painting at her local town hall of the Pilgrims and the Indians signing the Mayflower Compact. Her gripe — there are no women casting ballots in the picture. (Hey Sarah, it was 1620 — 300 years before the Supreme Court, or somebody, approved women’s suffrage.)

These pols are dopes. They weep on the floor of the House. They say that global warming, whatever that is, can be solved “if we have a strategy as part of state law.” (Thanks for sharing, Sen. Marc Pacheco.)

Rep. Ruth Balser of Newton denounced attempts to crack down on using welfare cash on nonessential items.

“If a poor woman wants to go to a job interview and she needs to put on lipstick, she’s not going to be able to.”

Lipstick? As if a lot of gimme girls are going out on job interviews. And should they also be allowed to use their EBT cards for, say, tattoos?

Then there was then-Rep. Carlos Henriquez of Dorchester, complaining about still another attempt to get a handle on welfare fraud, saying, “We’re spending a dollar to chase down a dime.”

This was right before the local constabulary chased down Rep. Henriquez all the way to the Billerica Jail and House of Correction for using his girlfriend as a punching bag.

Speaking of prison, last week another jailbird ex-rep, John George of Dartmouth, left his cell at ­Devens to plead guilty to one more felony, obstruction of justice. When he was first convicted, the 71-year-old Democrat (Bureau of Prisons #96202-038) told the feds he only had $28,000 in cash. His numbers were a little off, $2.5 million to be exact, which the G-men found stashed along with some Rolex watches in assorted safe-deposit boxes in New Bedford and Fairhaven.

Let me tell you, if Rep. George ever once considered the Hooker statue, it was only how to figure out how to turn it upside down and shake it until the change fell out of Gen. Hooker’s coat pockets.

BOP #96202-038 understood the three eternal rules of life on Beacon Hill.

Nothing on the level. Everything is a deal. No deal too small.

Sadly, now only the brains are too small.

Buy Howie’s new book, “What Really Happened,” at howiecarrshow.com.

After so many scandals in such a short time, the Massachusetts State Police are finally figuring out how to get ahead of the bad-news curve.

So yesterday they held a press conference, which they Facebooked in addition to the live TV coverage, announcing that 20 members of Troop E, the Turnpike crew, and one retired trooper are going to have “duty status hearings” in a widening overtime scandal.

So far, so good. But what’s up with this “duty status hearing” BS?

Whatever happened to “fired?” Or at least “suspended without pay.”

Even better, “stripped of fat six-figure pensions coming to them at age 50 or 55.”

Still better: “Trooper, you have the right to remain silent ….”

The exact phrase used by MSP Col. Kerry Gilpin was “potential changes in their duty status,” which sounds like a slap on the wrist to me, even if it is a prelude to ousting their snouts from the public trough.

Col. Gilpin also told the press that, “Integrity, honesty and accountability are core values of the Massachusetts State Police.”

Surely she meant to say, “were.”

This latest MSP scandal, which the Herald told you was coming a couple of weeks ago, is all about bogus OT. Apparently, for every X number of troopers who are out on overtime, a “superior officer” is required ... wink-wink, nudge-nudge. According to sources, the rank-and-file were on the job, but in many cases, their bosses just put in for the OT but never did anything.

They called this racket, I mean effort, the Accident and Injury Reduction Effort (AIRE) patrols. The primary goal for some of the higher-ranking staties was apparently to concoct OT shifts out of thin AIRE.

Gilpin said the probe will be extended to every other troop in the state — I see many job openings ahead in the MSP, or there would be, anyway, if the commonwealth hadn’t long since degenerated into a Third-World banana republic.

Every bogus MSP shift should be good for one count of mail or wire fraud, five years per. Or are these bums in jodhpurs going to get to ride off into the sunset with those obscene pensions?

These staties should be treated no differently than the corrupt Quincy cop Thomas Corliss. He was found guilty last year of stealing $8,211 from the city of Quincy. At his trial, the feds described him as “nothing more than a thief in uniform.” Corliss is now locked up at the Club Fed in Lewisburg, Pa., until Sept. 1. His BOP No. is 99753-038.

If the laws can send a bent Quincy cop to prison, why not all these crooked staties?

More and more, the MSP is looking like the FBI, and that is not a good thing, given the endemic corruption among the G-men during the sordid Mueller-Comey-McCabe-Obama era.

Gilpin kept saying that all the evidence will go to the state attorney general, Maura “Hold It” Healey, a Democrat, and that her office “will review and take whatever action they determine to be warranted.”

As Gilpin well knows, unless President Donald J. Trump personally signed the overtime sheets, Hold It Healey has absolutely zero interest in prosecuting any of her fellow Democrat hacks.

Remember the corrupt drug addict in the Amherst state lab, Sonja Farak? What did Hold It do to the two female assistant AGs who were accused by Judge Richard Carey of committing “a fraud upon the court” by covering up evidence of Farak’s misdeeds and railroading innocent men into prison?

Healey did nothing. Both her payroll patriots now have new six-figure hack jobs, one at the state treasurer’s office, the other at the Suffolk County courthouse.

Bottom line: If you want to hide something real good, just stick it in one of Hold It Healey’s law books. If Healey is in charge of this probe, those 20 staties might as well be booking their JetBlue flights to Florida to start pricing their new retirement homes in gated golf-course communities.

Every day the state police are looking more and more like “The Departed.” And now even more will be departing. Good riddance.

Buy Howie’s new book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com.

Now it turns out that state trooper Leigha Genduso was breaking even more rules, in addition to the perjury, drug dealing, money laundering and income tax evasion that she admitted to under a grant of immunity in federal court before she was welcomed with open arms onto the MSP.

Genduso’s “employee misconduct” was running the numbers of license plates for her own personal reasons, according to an internal statie probe I obtained. The cops call running plate numbers Criminal Justice Information Services (CJIS) inquiries, and cops can’t do them without a law-enforcement reason. Any use of CJIS inquiries for personal use is, the MSP ruled in May 2016, “a violation of Department Rules and Regulations.”

But not to worry, the onetime drug kingpin’s moll who then became the main squeeze of a top-ranking statie had her latest bit of wrongdoing broomed — again!

“Trooper Genduso was interviewed and she explained the reasons she conducted these three inquiries,” wrote Detective Lt. Steven Harrigan in his report. “Her reasons were not malicious at any level, nevertheless, they were conducted for personal reasons and not for official police business.”

Harrigan’s italics. By the way, he made $203,401.83 last year. He sent his report to the C.O. of Internal Affairs, Capt. David DeBuccia, who made $182,935.37 last year.

“Trooper Genduso was straightforward and she made no attempts to downplay her actions.”

Why would she? She knew the case was going to be swept under the rug, no matter what she did. She was connected. And it wasn’t like she was working for an on-the-level police force. She was “working” for the MSP.

Does the name Mel Steele ring a bell? He was a Boston PD cop, in the gang unit, and he ran a license plate for a gangbanger. One, not three. But in 2015, he was forced to resign and plead guilty to one count of lying to a federal agent.

Steele’s underlying crime? After running that single license plate for a member of the Academy Homes Street Gang that he knew, Steele lied about it. The judge slapped him with a year’s probation and a $2,000 fine and his career was destroyed.

At his sentencing, Steele told the judge that his actions “didn’t come from a malicious place.”

There’s that word again — malicious. Steele, a black guy, runs one plate in a non-malicious way and his life is destroyed. Genduso, a drug kingpin’s moll-turned-MSP brass’-main-squeeze, runs three plates and … nothing happens.

Zip, zero, nada. She goes back on the job, on the coveted K-9 unit, where she made $151,164.99 last year.

I inquired of the MSP yesterday what exactly constituted the “personal reasons” that led Genduso to commit three times the number of violations that caused Steele to lose his job, his career and his pension.

I asked the MSP brass what is the definition of a “malicious” violation of departmental regulations, and who gets to make that determination? Your boyfriend?

I also asked, if I robbed a bank and then said I did it for “personal reasons” that were not “malicious,” would all charges be dismissed? Would I be treated as leniently as Leigha Genduso?

The MSP declined to answer any of my questions.

Genduso, who has finally been suspended since her sordid pre-MSP life of crime was revealed last month, ran the CJIS inquiries in April, May and July of 2015. Her live-in drug kingpin former boyfriend, Sean Bucci, was released from Club Fed in October 2015.

I asked the MSP if she had run the plates because she was worried about the impending release of her fellow drug dealer Bucci, whom she had ratted out on the witness stand in federal court.

I asked, if she did admit that she was worried about the release of her former drug-dealing partner, shouldn’t that have been a red flag to the MSP as to her fitness to be a cop, even if they claim, however unbelievably, that they had no idea of Genduso’s sordid background when they hired her, first as a dispatcher and then as a trooper.

Again, no answer. The way the state police are collapsing, I can only think of one word to describe their breathtaking corruption.

Malicious.

Buy Howie’s book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com.

The word of the day is “unfettered.”

That’s the kind of discretion Hampden Superior Court Judge David Ricciardone said he wanted when he was first nominated for a hack state judgeship back in 2004.

“My own view of the use of discretion,” he wrote to the Governor’s Council, “is that it must be as unfettered as possible to promote the ends of justice.”

The ends of justice? Given his recent behavior on the bench, surely Ricciardone meant to say he wanted to promote the “end of justice.”

Over the last week or so, Ricciardone has certainly been “unfettered” in his attempts to mollycoddle the absolute worst of the worst criminals in Springfield.

Last week, an accused murderer by the name of Rafael Martinez walked out the door of the local jail on $50,000 bond — despite the desperate pleas of the district attorney to keep the accused killer behind bars while he awaits a trial that could lead to life imprisonment with no chance of parole.

Martinez is accused of shooting a guy sitting in a car outside his house six times. I’m sure he’s not a flight risk, right?

The mayor of Springfield called the judge’s decision to cut Martinez loose a “joke.” And like the DA, he’s a Democrat.

But wait, there’s more. Last week, Ricciardone also had before him three felons who had pleaded guilty to a home invasion of a 63-year-old woman, after which they poured gasoline over her head and then flicked a lighter next to her ear before she finally gave them her ATM card.

In addition to home invasion, the three thugs pleaded guilty to armed burglary, armed robbery, kidnapping, and assault and battery with a dangerous weapon on a person over 60.

The Hampden County DA, Anthony Gulluni, asked the bleeding-heart judge to give the perps 30 to 35 years. Instead, Harvard man Ricciardone sentenced two of them to between 8 and 10 years, and the third to 12 to 14 years.

In other words, he threw the book at the vicious fiends. A comic book.

The DA was appalled, describing the crime to the local newspaper:

“It was among the most inhuman, heinous things I’ve ever heard. It absolutely shocks the conscience and it’s just horrifying. … I mean this is monstrous behavior. We wouldn’t treat animals like this. We would be horrified if an animal were treated this way.”

But Ricciardone pointed out that the victim, despite being terrified of being raped and set afire, was actually not “injured.”

“I find that (statement) incredibly offensive,” Gulluni said.

So who is this “unfettered” jurist? Would you be shocked to learn that, post-Harvard, he was incubated in the epicenter of almost all the current dysfunction in Massachusetts law enforcement — the Worcester County District Attorney’s Office?

Another ADA in that hackerama was one Timothy Bibaud, father of the admitted junkie prostitute whose OUI case the top brass of the Mass. State Police tried to broom last fall, threatening to fire honest staties who refused to roll over for the payroll patriots. Alli Bibaud, the admitted hooker, is likewise a former employee of the Worcester County DA’s office.

So too is the secretary of public safety, Daniel Bennett, who now stands accused in a massive federal lawsuit of engaging in a criminal conspiracy to obstruct justice in the failed brooming of the case of the judge’s daughter.

When he was governor, Mitt Romney preferred to appoint prosecutors, thinking they were less likely to go, shall we say, all Ricciardone on him. Obviously, this was not a foolproof plan. The next governor, Small Deval Patrick, promoted the bleeding heart to the Superior Court in 2011.

Ricciardone was sworn in by then-Lt. Gov. Tim “Crash” Murray, shortly before Crash resigned in disgrace after going airborne in a state car at 108 mph on Interstate 190 after the corruption indictment of his dear friend and fellow hack Michael McLaughlin.

Emails were sent to the flacks for the Massachusetts judiciary, asking if Ricciardone wanted to explain his recent decisions and also how close he was to Judge Bibaud in their days together at the Worcester County DA’s office. Through the Trial Court, he declined to respond — no surprise there.

He’s a judge in Massachusetts, after all, totally unaccountable. He’s gotten three $6,250 raises in the last 15 months, he’s getting another one July 1 and he never has to run for re-election. Talk about unfettered …

In the halls of justice, the only justice is in the halls.

Buy Howie’s new book “What Really Happened” at howiecarrshow.com.

Stormy Daniels? Read our lips: we don’t care.

Tonight’s the night that the former porn “star” will be appearing on “60 Minutes” to reveal what we already knew, that she had a, gasp, consensual extramarital affair with Donald J. Trump more than a decade before he became president.

Stop the presses!

Since Thursday, the See BS television network has been running nonstop promos for their big scoop on all the March Madness college basketball games. And the two fake-news cable channels have been running more Storm(y) coverage than The Weather Channel.

This time, they breathlessly pant, we’ve finally got him. Don Lemon, Rachel Maddow et al. are like Wile E. Coyote chasing the Roadrunner. They’ve pried open a crate from Acme Adult Films Co., and out pops Stormy.

Forget the three years worth of earlier failures to take Trump off the board — Megyn Kelly, John McCain, “Access Hollywood,” recounts, “Russian collusion,” faithless electors, the emoluments clause, the 25th amendment, etc.

Once again the pantywaists of the alt-left media think they’ve finally backed Trump into a corner.

He cheated on his wife! No president has ever done that before except for, uh, like, er ... never mind.

Let’s go back 20 years in time. The moonbats’ hero, Bill Clinton, groped Kathleen Wiley, exposed himself to Paula Jones, raped Juanita Broaddrick and sexually harassed his employee, Monica Lewinsky.

And all the Democrats said was that it was ... just sex. Nothing to see here folks. Moveon.org.

But now, they’ve convinced themselves that a consensual affair will bring down POTUS, a guy who 30 years ago, in the midst of the first of his two divorces, was on the front page of his hometown tabloid described by his soon-to-be-second-wife as “Best Sex I Ever Had.”

Trump was so ashamed he had that front page framed and hung prominently in his office in Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue.

Here’s the problem for the Trump Derangement Syndrome crowd betting the ranch on Stormy: None of us deplorables expects Trump to be a moral exemplar. Never have, never will.

Two years ago, before he got his prime-time show on Fox, Tucker Carlson described the phenomenon of devout Trump-supporting Christians watching the future president “doing a ludicrous imitation of a faithful Christian, the least holy roller ever. You wonder as you watch this: How could they be that dumb? He’s so obviously faking it.”

But of course they knew, we all knew — everybody, apparently, except the talking heads on ­MSNBC and its ratings-challenged fellow traveler CNN.

“Evangelicals,” Carlson pointed out in Politico, “have given up trying to elect one of their own. What they’re looking for is a bodyguard, someone to shield them from mounting (and real) threats to their freedom of speech and worship. Trump fits that role nicely, better in fact than many church-going Republicans.”

Does Trump screw up sometimes? Damn right he does. Signing that catastrophic budget bill Friday was only the latest example.

But guess what? Trump still has one major advantage among all those bitter-clinging irredeemables who voted for him in 2016.

He’s not Hillary Clinton.

Just when the Democrats finally think they’re getting some traction, Hillary always reappears, like a bad penny.

Last week, she gave yet another interview, attacking Trump personally, saying, “He always wants to be the center of attention ... the constant train wreck that never goes away. He has undermined the office and used it to enrich himself and his family, disregarded laws, ethical standards, has been undermining the institutions from the free press to the judiciary.”

Undermined the office? Her husband was impeached for perjury and obstruction of justice. Enriched his family? Ever hear of the protection racket known as the Clinton Foundation? Undermine the free press? During the campaign she said publicly that the First Amendment had to go, using the code words “Citizens United.”

When your most implacable foes are Hillary Clinton, Nancy “Crumbs” Pelosi and Chuck U. Schumer, what’s another Stormy Daniels, more or less? Ditto, Karen McDougal, the ex-Playboy bunny warming up in the bullpen. If you prefer brunettes, Karen’s your gal, and she’s definitely ready for her close up, Mr. DeMille.

But now it’s almost time for the moment that may finally get “60 Minutes” a few viewers under the age of 80. This could be “60 Minutes’ ” biggest scoop since Dan Rather’s Texas Air National Guard story about President George W. Bush back in 2004, which was so big it, uh, er, never mind.

Buy Howie’s book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com.

Judge Thomas Estes is the poster boy for the Massachusetts judiciary.

It’s damn near impossible to embarrass state judges — the bust-out flotsam of the legal “profession.” At least 95 percent of them were starving to death until they scrapped together a few hundred dollars in political contributions to buy themselves a lifelong vacation of 35 weeks a year of “work” for $172,194 per annum, with a fourth $6,250 pay raise in 18 months due July 1.

But Estes has committed the ultimate crime in admitting to a third-rate romance, low-rent rendezvous with a court underling. He has shone a spotlight on the absolute tawdriness that is the Massachusetts judiciary.

Estes conducted his one-sided affair in all the romantic hot spots of the Western world — Belchertown, Westfield, Marlboro. Now, reassigned to “administrative duties” in Holyoke, he claims he’s filled with “great shame and remorse.” But he refuses to quit, for one very simple reason.

If his snout is ever forcibly ejected from the public trough, Estes will in short order starve to death. He is a hack’s hack. So let’s let his lawyer describe his affair with one Tammy Cagle, a “drug-court clinician.”

The Commission on Judicial Conduct lists 13 instances of, well, do you remember what Bill Clinton was doing to Monica Lewinsky? That’s what Judge Estes was doing to Tammy Cagle — 13 times. So says the CJC.

But the devil made him do it! See, it all started during a judicial conference in November 2016 in Marlboro. Cagle, who is now 47, asked Estes, now 58, to walk her to her hotel room.

“Obviously her intentions were clear from that moment forward,” Judge Estes’ lawyer writes.

After the jurist returned to his room, the sultry temptress texted him.

“She lured him to her room on the pretext that she needed help with her TV. To his great regret, Judge Estes went to her room, where he found Ms. Cagle lying on her bed, clad only in panties and a tee shirt. The television was on.”

So was the affair. They liked to hook up on Tuesday afternoons. You think Paris or Rome is a great spot for swingin’ young lovers? Have you ever been inside the Belchertown District Courthouse?

“The plan,” his lawyer says, “was that he would simply stay at the courthouse at the conclusion of business, and that Ms. Cagle would join him in the late afternoon. At 4:30 when everyone had left the building, they would then be free to engage in sexual activity for about 30 minutes.”

Can someone hum a few bars of “Afternoon Delight”?

But Tammy soon became dissatisfied with her role as the Monica Lewinsky of the 413 area code.

Estes is a typical modern Massachusetts judge. His wife has a different last name. He was appointed by Deval Patrick. He’s from New York, and he drifted into the Bay State around 2002.

According to what Estes told the Governor’s Council, his experience in private practice was less than two years. He’s basically a career public defender — meaning, the taxpayers paid him handsomely to defend shiftless criminals who attack taxpayers.

Now all the judicial hacks are embarrassed, not by their esteemed colleague’s behavior, but by the fact that he got caught with his pants down, literally. No doubt Estes is now holding out for an “involuntary” removal, which means he can collect a Massachusetts State Police-like pension for the rest of his worthless indolent life.

Isn’t it shocking that a Massachusetts judge would be caught in flagrante delicto? I thought what happened in Belchertown, stayed in Belchertown.

Buy Howie’s book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com.

Book reviews aren’t nearly as important as they used to be in the publishing industry for moving product, with one exception.

A plug by the president of the United States.

Which is what I got late Sunday night from POTUS:

And to think that not so long ago, I figured a shot on Bill O’Reilly’s show on Fox was the best possible endorsement an author like me could get. But a segment on the “O’Reilly Factor” was nothing compared to an endorsement from POTUS.

When I went to bed late Sunday night, “What Really Happened” was hovering around No. 17,000 in Amazon sales — not terrible but not that great either.

The book had 25 reviews, with an average of 4.5 stars.

Seven hours later, when I woke up, I checked the book’s Amazon rank again. “WRH” was now at No. 2,904 in sales — a big spike, in other words. And suddenly I had 35 reviews, but the average was down to 3.5 stars, which means that of the 10 new reviews, probably 8 came in at 1 on a scale of 1 to 5.

Hmmm, I thought to myself, something seems to be happening here. As the sales were exhibiting signs of Making America Great Again, simultaneously the reviews had been infected with a raging case of Trump Derangement Syndrome.

There could only be one reason for such a sudden schizophrenic reaction to the book: a tweet from POTUS.

I had flown down to Palm Beach for the weekend, and I went to Mar-a-Lago for dinner Saturday night. Naturally I took along a copy of “WRH,” just in case. Around 7:30, on the patio, the band struck up, “America the Beautiful,” which meant POTUS was on his way down to the patio. When Trump arrived, he got a standing ‘O’ from the packed house.

Then he sat down to dinner with two men, neither of whom I recognized. When POTUS motioned me over to his table, he noticed the book in my hand and asked me about it.

I handed “WRH” over and he immediately noticed the outstanding cover photo of himself, his right arm raised, with his index finger uplifted.

“That is a great photo!” he said. “Where’d you get that?”

From the Boston Herald, I told him. Patrick Whittemore took the picture. Trump proudly showed the book to his guests, and after some small talk, I said to him, “If you like it … ”

He nodded, and that was it, until he tweeted out at 11:46 Sunday night, after which the trolls went crazy. You think Amazon delivery is fast — within 10 minutes, these trolls were claiming to have read the book, plus they’d posted a one-star review and demanded their money back, or so they said. That’s how quickly it happened. Jeff Bezos must have sent my books out, not by drone, but by ICBM.

On Amazon you’re supposed to have made a “verified purchase” before you review, but the moonbats know all the excuses, lame as they are. One of my one-star critics claimed to have “borrowed a copy,” and another lied that he “bought this book from B&N — sorry.” Sorry indeed — you can buy it at the local brick-and-mortar B&Ns, but “WRH” is not currently available online from B&N.

Then the celebrate-diversity crowd started claiming that my five-star reviewers were all churned out by “Russian bots.” Would that it were, would it were …

Star Struck: “I can’t believe I wasted my time reading this.” Hey, you know what, Star Struck, I can’t believe you read “What Really Happened” either, considering you didn’t post anything very early yesterday morning until POTUS’s tweet.

Then I decided to see how the trust-funders of the ever-shrinking Boston Globe were reacting to my good fortune. The tweet, I quickly discovered, had roused them off their couches in mom’s basement. They stopped clipping coupons for a moment or two, or at least some of them did, to put the blast on me and the president, especially me.

“The ignorant musings of a racist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamophobic, misogynistic fascist whose daily screeds in his so-called newspaper read like the incoherent rants of a drunk on a barstool.”

You mean like Fat Boy Ted Kennedy? That last harangue, by the way, was from “Nagej2.” Has anyone ever seen Nagej2 and Star Struck in the same room?

By mid-afternoon, I was ranked No. 770 on Amazon, and my average review was down to 3 stars, which is OK. What did Liberace say about bad reviews — “I’m laughing all the way to the bank.”

Thank you, POTUS. I owe you one.

If a regular citizen gets in trouble, he gets arrested, or indicted, and maybe he might even end up in prison.

But if a state trooper gets jammed up, he’s allowed to walk away scot-free with a six-figure pension at the age of 50.

What a great system, huh?

Remember the old Bobby Fuller Four song, “I Fought the Law and the Law Won.” All these troopers bolting for the exits one step ahead of the posse have rewritten it — they fought the law and they won. Of course, it’s a lot easier when “the law” is Attorney General Maura Healey, who leaves no stone unturned, except the ones the Democrat perps are hiding under.

The phrase of the week at the State House is “bad actors.” It was dusted off Monday by acting Senate President Harriette Chandler as she described the crime wave known as the Massachusetts State Police. Gov. Charlie “Tall Deval” Baker upped the ante further — he called the troopers­ “really bad actors.”

The only head hack who isn’t calling the troopers­ “bad actors” is House Speaker Bob DeLeo. But then, as an unindicted coconspirator in an earlier massive corruption case, perhaps it’s only professional courtesy not to put the blast on his fellow bad actors. DeLeo settled for merely being “deeply disturbed.”

Which is still more outrage than Lt. Gov. Karyn Polito has been able to muster. But then, her BFF from Shrewsbury is suspended trooper Leigha Genduso, the admitted drug dealer, perjurer, money launderer, income-tax evader who somehow not only got on the job but landed in the coveted K-9 unit. Karyn and Leigha are this close. They take selfies together, sometimes with Leigha’s ex-boyfriend, the corpulent lieutenant colonel who recently “retired” after one of the earlier MSP scandals.

Busted, Karyn tried to make a joke about her underworld selfies with the drug-kingpin-linked trooper­ at Halitosis Hall on St. Patrick’s Day. It went over like a lead balloon with the hack audience. Those Southie payroll patriots know enough to remain silent, lest anything they say be used against them in a court of law …

So this week’s first MSP scandal is the fact that F Troop at Logan Airport has not been reporting all of their payrolls to the state comptroller. The MSP and Massport, two of the shadiest agencies in state government, are pointing the finger at one another. Isn’t there some way they can both lose?

Asked about this sneaky attempt to cover up their sticky-fingered behavior Monday, Tall Deval tried to out-Inspector Clouseau even Maura Healey, saying this of the MSP-Massport scandal.

“It was clearly deliberate for some reason.” Ya think, Tall Deval? “I don’t know what the reason was.” You don’t? Really, governor? “It was 2010.” Translation: It was Small Deval’s fault.

“I certainly would be the first to agree that it’s important for the State Police to get its act together.”

Actually, Tall Deval, you are very close to being not the first, but the last person to demand that the troopers­ get their “act together.” You’d almost think the staties­ have something on you.

Maybe Tall Deval expects his secretary of public safety to get to the bottom of these unending scandals. After all, Daniel Bennett only stands accused in a current federal civil suit of taking part in “an overarching and far-reaching conspiracy” including “multiple felonies” — the attempted brooming of an OUI case involving the junkie daughter of a hack judge Bennett used to work with in Worcester.

One the other hand, perhaps Tall Deval and Hold It Healey should turn these multiple MSP corruption cases over to some real cops — I’m thinking DEA, because the FBI itself is currently afflicted with its own bad case of whatever ails the MSP. But whoever handles this unprecedented series of scandals needs to start making arrests, ASAP, and stripping these bums of their six-figure pensions.

If I ever hit the jackpot, I ask for no special favors. Just treat me like a Mass. state trooper.

(Buy Howie’s new book, “Kennedy Babylon,” at howiecarrshow.com.)

And now, the latest inductee into the State House Alcohol of Fame: Sen. Michael Brady, D-Joe Angelo’s Cafe in Brockton.

Brady got a bad ice cube on his way home Friday night. He was pulled over in Weymouth about 2:30 a.m., shortly after he swerved into the parking lot of John’s Liquor, apparently in the mistaken belief that the packy was still open.

It was at this point that the inevitable fate of so many Massachusetts statesmen finally happened to Sen. Brady.

The cops handcuffed him and put him in the back of a police car, at which time, as the arresting officer put it, “my cruiser was filled with a strong alcoholic beverage scent.”

In other words, it smelled like the State House.

Now the extinguished solon has checked into rehab — the last refuge of a scoundrel. He plans to spend a week there — only a week? As a solon, he opined in the traditional statement his office issued yesterday, he’s held to a “higher standard.”

Higher standard? Even by the below-average standards of the Massachusetts Legislature, Brady checks in at far below average. His educational background: Massasoit Community College ’82, Metropolitan Life Insurance School ’93.

He used to have a hack job at the state lottery — you’re not surprised, are you? Ironic, though, considering that the boss of the state lottery used to be State Treasurer Shannon O’Brien, and her husband, then-State Rep. Emmet Hayes, was himself once lugged for OUI in Weymouth.

Weymouth — think of it as the Bermuda Triangle for impaired Plymouth County hacks.

The police report was written by officer Christopher Dangelo, who describes the solon at the time of the stop as having “a blank stare on his face also described as the 1,000-yard stare.”

The 1,000-yard stare? Also known as “the Massachusetts state legislator stare.”

You’ve seen “the stare” before. Think Brian Dempsey, Teddy Aleixo, Denis McKenna, Paul Kujawski ...

Another one who had “the stare” – Sen. Anthony Galluccio of Cambridge. Remember him? He claimed he was framed by the high alcohol content of his toothpaste. Maybe that’s how you can beat the rap, Sen. Brady. Tell the judge you had just brushed your teeth ... with Arm and Hammered.

Sen. Brady, by the way, is the chairman of the Committee on Taxation. This may explain at least some of his problems in the sidewalk Olympics early Saturday morning.

Brady claimed he was at a “work event” in Boston. Like he knows a lot about working. He got his Senate seat in a fixed special election — it was held the same day as a contested mayoral race in Brockton. The surrounding Republican towns had no other elections, and with a huge turnout in the rotten borough of Brockton, Brady swamped Rep. Geoff Diehl of Whitman.

Brady’s hometown, Brockton, has a long history of pols who are a little rough around the edges, shall we say. Take Mike Creedon of the Creedon “dynasty” — please. He got forced off the bench a couple of years ago for some untoward remarks in his chambers, but before that Mike Creedon served as both a senator and a rep.

When he was in the House, Mike Creedon liked to have a road brew on the way back to the City of Champions. So he had a driver — another Brockton state Rep., Mark Lawton, who also eventually became a judge.

Brady, though, figured he didn’t need a chauffeur, no matter how legless he was in that crappy car of his.

Finally, as it dawned on Brady that he was headed to the clink, he did what they all do just before they’re advised of their Miranda rights.

“At this time BRADY handed me a Commonwealth of Massachusetts identification card and stated he was a State Senator.”

In other words, “Do you know who I am?”

Look on the bright side, Senator. At least they didn’t charge you with impersonating a Kennedy.

Buy Howie’s new book, “What Really Happened,” at howiecarr show.com.

Nick Rizzo was a good source, and he was apparently an even better — or should I say worse — embezzler.

In one way or another, he stole almost $4 million from the campaign accounts and friends of the late Sen. Paul Tsongas while Tsongas was running for president in 1992.

At the time of his 1993 indictment, the feds called Rizzo’s depredations “the largest case of campaign fraud in the history of this country.”

He ended up doing four years at Club Fed. His Bureau of Prisons number was 19827-038, and as of yesterday, the BOP hadn’t posted him as deceased, even though he died at the age of 84 in a fire at an old folks’ home in Andover March 8. He was trying to smoke a cigarette near an oxygen machine and he set himself afire, just as he’d set his entire life ablaze decades earlier with his mega-embezzling.

He used the ill-gotten gains, the feds said, to pay off gambling debts — a very old story — as well as for his visits to “an adult entertainment center.”

Did I mention that his son-in-law was Lennie ­Degnan, a top aide to bent ex-Lawrence mayor Willie Lantigua? Degnan himself went to the can on a bribery rap, something about shaking down a garbage contractor for a free truck that el alcalde de Lawrencia then shipped to the Dominican Republic.

Nick Rizzo loved being a player, a name-dropper, a hob-nobber. He was tight, not just with Tsongas, for whom he raised millions, but also John Finnegan, the state auditor, and bent House speaker Tommy McGee. It was McGee who put Rizzo on the first board of the Massachusetts Convention Center Authority (MCCA), back in the days when the Bulgers were running wide open.

Every week, after the MCCA board meeting, I’d get a whispered call from Nick. “Do you know what they did today?” he would ask. They put hitman Johnny Martorano’s daughter on the payroll. They hired the daughter of Whitey Bulger’s girlfriend. They gave a job to one of Stevie Flemmi’s gangland buddies as a cashier — a cashier! — at the Under Common garage, and he just bought a Cadillac, even though he only makes eight bucks an hour, plus the hood got his brother a job, and he bought a Cadillac, too!

It made for great copy, even though nothing ever changed for the better. The governor was a pathetic bust-out named M. Stanley Dukakis, and when the Bulgers told the Duke to jump, the only thing he asked was, “How high?”

Nick was a high roller. At the Lanam Club in ­Andover, he loved pointing out An Wang, the computer magnate who ate lunch there even more often than Nick. Rizzo also belonged to the Union Club on Park Street, as well as the Algon­quin Club on Comm Ave. That was where he introduced me to Michael Kennedy of 14-year-old babysitter fame, or should I say infamy.

The buck-toothed Michael never talked much about his adventures in babysitting. But he did go on and on about how tough it was to work on Dukakis’ ’88 presidential campaign in New Mexico, when he always had to explain why Dukakis wanted to confiscate everyone’s guns.

I’d been thinking this week about those lunches at the Algonquin Club as the Democrats are fantasizing about trying to “nationalize” the midterm elections by running against the Second Amendment. I’m sure they’ll have as much luck with that as Michael Kennedy did in New Mexico 30 years ago.

Nick always told people he owned an auto-parts distributorship. This was in the day when the auto-parts discount chains were proliferating, and I always wondered how Nick was hanging in. It turns out, he wasn’t. He was dipping into the till, the Tsongas till, bigtime.

It would be easier to forgive Nick if his massive thefts hadn’t left Tsongas broke after he won the New Hampshire primary in 1992. Tsongas needed money to fend off a corrupt Arkansas governor by the name of Bill Clinton in the Florida primary, but Nick had stolen everything that wasn’t nailed down.

After a duplicitous multi­million-dollar advertising blitz against the broke Tsongas, Clinton won the Sunshine State and was off to the races … and Monica Lewinsky. So Nick played at least a small part in the nightmare that was this last quarter-century of Clinton sleaze.

That must have been a lot for Nick to answer for at the Pearly Gates. But St. Peter, just remember one thing: At least Nick tried to do something about the Bulgers when it wasn’t easy, when in fact it was dangerous.

Rest in peace, Nick.

Buy Howie’s new book, “What Really Happened,” at howiecarrshow.com.

So the producer of the new film about Ted Kennedy’s Chappaquiddick scandal says some “very powerful people” tried to kill his movie.

What a surprise — NOT!

“Unfortunately,” Byron Allen told Variety last week, “very powerful people tried to put pressure on me not to release this movie. They went out of their way to try and influence me in a negative way.”

Byron Allen is a TV comedian from the ’80s who has become a successful Hollywood mogul. He just bought what’s left of The Weather Channel for $300 million. By the way, he’s also black, so you would think that alone would endear him more than somewhat to the Kennedys, given their commitment to racial justice, which is quite exaggerated by the way.

But Byron Allen gets cut no slack, because he dared to tell the real story of how Ted Kennedy was behind the wheel when a young woman died in 1969 after he drove off a bridge on Martha’s Vineyard. The crimes Teddy could have been — but wasn’t — charged with include manslaughter, drunken driving, vehicular homicide and driving without a license. Instead, he was allowed to plead guilty to a single count of leaving the scene of an accident. There was no autopsy, for obvious reasons. A few months after her death, the Kennedys blocked the exhumation of Mary Jo Kopechne’s body. A decade later, the National Enquirer bought a story from a Washington Post columnist alleging that Mary Jo was pregnant at the time she died.

That story was told in a book by an heir to the supermarket tabloid. The Enquirer story itself has never been printed, but it is on the public record that Mary Jo was drunk at the time of her death, and was not wearing underwear.

Kopechne was, as producer Allen told Variety, “one of the original #MeToo victims.”

As were, I would add, Marilyn Monroe, Gloria Swanson, Mimi Alford, Mary Pinchot Meyer, Pam Kelley, the blue-dot Au Bar woman and a whole host of other females who consorted, in one way or another, with the Kennedy men.

The new movie comes out Friday, and I assume Allen will be making the media rounds this coming week. I’m trying to book him on my radio show, and I want to ask him about the identity of those “very powerful people.”

The No. 1 suspect has to be former Sen. Chris Dodd, Teddy’s old drinking buddy who went on to become CEO of the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA), Hollywood’s chief lobbying group.

Dodd, you may recall, was the other half of Teddy’s infamous “waitress sandwich” at La Brasserie restaurant in D.C. back in the 1980s. But that wasn’t their only drunken adventure together.

According to the late Carrie Fisher, in 1985 she unwisely agreed to to go on a blind date with Dodd. After Dodd arrived, blind drunk, he was soon joined by an equally loaded Kennedy, who promptly asked Carrie if she would have sex with Dodd.

“No, that probably won’t happen,” she recalled her telling the crapulous solons. “Thanks for asking, though.”

Drunk as a skunk, Teddy wouldn’t take no for an answer. It’s a family tradition.

“Would you,” he asked Princess Leia, “have sex with Chris in a hot tub?”

She shook her head. “I’m no good in water.”

So you can understand why Dodd would want to protect the memory of his esteemed colleague.

Of course, killing negative media coverage of the family is nothing new. In 1985, the Kennedys spiked a 27-minute ABC News documentary about the unanswered questions surrounding the death of Marilyn Monroe, and the role that Bobby Kennedy played in her passing. One of the reporters on the story was Geraldo Rivera, and he ended up fired for insubordination.

A decade later, on his own TV show, a Kennedy cousin explained to Rivera what had happened to his network career.

“Quite honestly,” Kerry Kennedy McCarthy, one of Joe’s nieces, told him, “you were a victim of the family. The family had become used to hearing the truth about Jack. But when it was Bobby … .”

And now this new movie about Teddy’s biggest scandal is about to come out. Producer Byron Allen will no doubt be making the TV rounds — at least on the networks that the Kennedys no longer control. One of which is the Fox News Channel.

Hey, Byron Allen, if Fox books you, I know you should request as your interviewer.

Geraldo Rivera.

Buy Howie’s book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com or amazon.com.

Reforms? We don’t need no stinkin’ reforms of the Massachusetts State Police.

What we need is prosecutions, not to mention prison sentences for theft, and also, if possible, for mail and wire fraud, not to mention conspiracy to defraud. Stripping these greedy thugs of their pensions isn’t nearly enough. Whether these staties filed for one fake overtime shift or 100, they need to do time, hard time.

We need to see their mug shots, too.

Instead, yesterday we got the mealy-mouthed, spineless, lily-livered governor, Charlie “Tall Deval” Baker, passing the buck to the equally feckless attorney general, saying, “My view is it’s up to the AG to decide whether to charge anyone criminally.”

In other words, the corrupt staties all walk. You know the old saying: If you want to hide something real good, just stick it in one of Maura Healey’s law books.

“No one should steal, period,” Gov. Baker (rhymes with Faker) pronounced. Wow! Talk about taking a bold stand. Then he went even further out on a limb and said that some of the busted Pike troopers “retired under a cloud.”

Yeah, so did Whitey Bulger and Jerry Angiulo.

How could anyone watch that press conference at the State House yesterday with a straight face? Among the “reforms” Tall Deval announced is that henceforward, the MSP will activate the AVL’s — basically GPS’s — in the cruisers. What? If they’re in the cruisers, why weren’t they already being used? (The answer: The inmates were running the asylum. And it’s high time to make the inmates … inmates.)

Even more amazing: Col. Kerry Gilpin announced that henceforward, all candidates for the MSP will be asked whether they’ve ever been involved in any criminal investigations, whether they were charged or not.

This is of course a reference to the Trooper Who Must Never Be Named, Leigha Genduso, who admitted in federal court under oath in 2007 to being a perjurer, kingpin drug dealer, money launderer and income-tax evader — and was almost immediately hired first as a dispatcher and then as a trooper.

They didn’t make any mistakes, apparently, Col. Klink, I mean Gilpin seemed to be saying, but they won’t make that mistake again!

Then it was the turn of Lt. Gov. Karyn Polito to say of her relationship with the state police: “I have stood shoulder to shoulder” with them.

Yes, she has, especially with the drug-dealing perjurer Trooper Genduso, in selfies. They’re both from Shrewsbury, and they’ve stood shoulder to shoulder in at least a couple of photographs.

So they’re abolishing Troop E out on the Pike. Big deal. They were all going down in the fake overtime scandal anyway. What about F Troop at the airport? They’re going to get a “30-day review,” although most of us could finish that review in 30 seconds. Conclusion: It’s time to turn Logan and the rest of the Seaport over to the BPD. They could hardly do any worse, could they?

I have a few unanswered questions for the “investigation:”

Who signed off on Leigha Genduso going on the job, and when is that person going to lose his (or should I say her?) pension?

Were any troopers involved in the “investigation” for the preposterous hackerama known as the Mass. Gaming Commission as to the suitability of notorious perv Steve Wynn’s moral suitability to be granted a license to operate a casino?

After the press conference, I called Lt. Gov. Polito. She didn’t pick up her phone, so I left her a voicemail asking if she’d spoken recently to her BFF from Shrewsbury, Trooper Genduso.

Karyn didn’t get back to me. I don’t know, maybe she’s worried about retiring “under a cloud.” I may have to send out a posse after her. Does anyone know if Kojack is available for tracking?

Buy Howie’s book “Kennedy Babylon” at howiecarrshow.com or amazon.com.

Which branch of the Massachusetts Legislature is more corrupt — the House or the Senate?

It’s a tough question, like asking which cop shop is more bent — the Mass. State Police or the FBI. The MSP admits to committing massive overtime fraud and welcoming kingpin drug dealers and perjurers with open arms, while the FBI engaged in an attempted coup against the duly-elected president of the United States.

So it all depends, I suppose, on what kinds of behavior you find most appalling.

Let’s go down the various categories, and see which august Beacon Hill body comes out on top, or bottom.

Leadership: The House, of course, has three consecutive speakers who are convicted felons, and the current one was an unindicted co-conspirator in a federal probation-department indictment. On the other hand, recent Senate presidents include the brother of a serial-killing gangster, who was succeeded by the nephew (and namesake) of a gangster, who was succeeded by a precinct captain of a corrupt Boston mayor, after which came a woman whose name was mentioned in that same probation department scandal that ensnared the unindicted co-conspirator, followed by the very ethical Stanley Rosenberg, consort of the Pee Wee Herman lookalike. EDGE: EVEN.

Public drunkenness: Reps. Brian Dempsey and Paul Kujawski behaved disgracefully (Kujo allegedly did number one on a state trooper’s boot). But more recently in the Senate, we have Anthony Galluccio, who got a bad tube of toothpaste. And then last week there was Sen. Michael Brady, of whom it can be said, “What made Milwaukee famous, has made a loser out of him.” EDGE: SENATE.

Dodgy campaign contributions: Ex-Rep. Garrett Bradley (whose wife was given a hack state judgeship after the traditional nationwide search) donated hundreds of thousands to various statesmen, after which he suddenly resigned (and the hack pols returned at least $200,000). No one in the Senate even comes close to the squalid South Shore sleazemeister. EDGE: HOUSE.

Nickname for an indicted solon: Ex-Sen. Brian “Multiple Choice” Joyce, D-Milton. EDGE: SENATE.

Largest legislator’s cash stash discovered by feds: $1 million, in Bristol County safe-deposit boxes rented by Ex-Rep. John George, a convicted embezzler now imprisoned at Devens FMC. (Bureau of Prisons No.: 96292-038.) EDGE: HOUSE.

Most dogtrack-ready leadership: Senate President Harriette Chandler, age 80, Majority Leader Cynthia Creem, age 75. House Speaker Bob DeLeo, age 68, Majority Leader Ron Mariano, age 71. EDGE: SENATE.

Heterosexual sexual abuse: Rep. Diane DiZoglio says that as a State House aide, she was forced out of her job for complaining about harassment on Beacon Hill. And ex-Rep. Carlos Henriquez did a stretch at the Billerica House of Correction after assaulting his girlfriend. EDGE: HOUSE.

Homosexual sexual abuse: See indictment of the “spouse” of Sen. Rosenberg, the Pee Wee Herman lookalike 38 years the solon’s junior. EDGE: SENATE.

Most corrupt district: Many contenders — the Roxbury Senate district had three consecutive convicted felons. Lowell’s had a couple of felon solons and the Mission Hill House district had an income-tax evader succeeded by a bag lady stalker. And Everett — well, don’t get me started. EDGE: EVEN.

Best alleged kickback: A total of 704 pounds of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee to Multiple Choice Joyce, according to the federal indictment, once again proving that Joyce truly lived by the three rules of life at the State House: 1.) Nothing on the level; 2.) Everything is a deal; 3.) No deal too small. EDGE: SENATE.

Conclusion: Senate wins, by a nose. But wait ‘til next year, House. Soon enough, someone we’ve never even heard of now will be a solon, and he will be lugged by the cops for OUI, probably in Weymouth.

Buy Howie’s new book “What Really Happened” at howiecarrshow.com or amazon.com.

Is Mark Zuckerberg of Facebook still planning to run for president in 2020?

No, I didn’t think so. But what a difference a year or so makes. Remember his “listening tour” in Iowa? Zuckerberg even hired a pollster because, you know, he was just what the country was looking for: A 67-inch-tall computer nerd from Harvard by way of the New York suburbs.

He was being “urged” to run — just ask him.

Until a few days ago, Zuckerberg was one of the Beautiful People. He opposed “the Wall,” because, you know, he’s got enough do-re-mi to build his own walls to keep the alien hordes at bay. It’s the same attitude the pope, House Speaker Paul Ryan and New York Mayor Bill de Blasio share about walls. Good walls make good neighbors — for them, but not for you.

Now, however, the chattering classes have turned on Zuckerberg, the world’s fifth-richest person, according to the latest Forbes list, with a net worth of $71 billion. This week Zuckerberg is taking an even worse pounding than Nos. 6 and 7, the evil Koch brothers, worth a paltry $60 billion apiece.

Personally, I never got the whole Facebook thing. I have a page for my radio show, but that’s strictly business. When I first heard about Facebook, somebody told me I could use it to catch up with my high school classmates.

My first thought was, why the hell would I want to? I never moved away. My radio show is carried on the stations I listened to as a kid. If any of my classmates need to speak to me, they can call in to my show. I don’t need Mark Zuckerberg.

I use Google, I rely on Amazon, I goof around on Twitter, and I listen to music and watch old movies on YouTube. But Facebook? Forget about it!

There’s a saying in Silicon Valley: If you’re not paying for it, you’re not the customer, you’re the product.

So before all of you Facebook users post your next anti-Trump screed and unfriend your neighbor for wearing a MAGA hat, maybe you should read the “Terms of Service” you agreed to when you signed up for the “free” service.

When you buy or sell a house, the real estate lawyers make you initial every page of the P&S, as if you’ve actually read the fine print about lead paint, balloon payments, easements, etc. So don’t tell me that all the members of the “reality-based” community didn’t know that they were being harvested, like so many farm-raised catfish.

Isn’t it amazing that in 2012 when Obama’s re-election campaign was “scraping” data, he was hailed as a genius? But when Cambridge Analytica did it in 2016, it suddenly became an “Orwellian” scandal. Because, of course, they were doing it for Donald J. Trump.

Speaking of Trump, I don’t think he’s serious about trust-busting these Politically Correct totalitarians in Silicon Valley. I wish he were. These billionaires have a lot more power, and they use it more darkly, than the John D. Rockefellers, Andrew Carnegies and Buck Dukes did.

To return to that Forbes list, Jeff Bezos of Amazon is worth (or was, before the recent presidential tweetstorm) $112 billion, Larry Page and Sergey Brin of Google are worth just under $50 billion each.

But the moonbats remain obsessed with Rupert Murdoch, whose net worth is a paltry $15 billion (No. 94), which is still five times more than the Great Satan himself, President Trump, No. 766 with $3.1 billion.

Whatever happened to money talks, BS walks? If money is the root of all evil, then these internet enforcers of PC orthodoxy must truly be the real malefactors of great wealth, right?

I’m trying to be angry about Facebook’s alleged betrayal, but really, who couldn’t see this coming?

Buy Howie’s book “What Really Happened” at howiecarrshow.com or amazon.com.

Are you tired of working for a living?

Have you been dreaming of grabbing one of those six-figure, no-heavy-lifting hack state jobs behind which comes the obscenely bloated pension, the monthly kiss in the mail?

This column is your how-to guide to one of those dream jobs (which are not to be confused with work, because there is no work in the hackerama).

Here are three ways to become a payroll patriot:

• Be the offspring of an extinguished hack family, and you get bonus points if one of your parents actually served time not just in the Legislature, but also in prison, especially a federal lockup.
• Give lots and lots of cash to Lt. Gov. Karyn Polito.
• Be from Worcester — excuse me, I’m repeating Number 2.

OK, let’s start with Elizabeth K. Sheehy, who after a nationwide search was nominated this week for the hack sinecure of clerk magistrate of the Middlesex Juvenile Court.

Sheehy is the daughter of the late jailbird senator from Lowell, Paul Sheehy, who did a short stretch in durance vile for bank fraud committed while he was city manager of Lowell. After his parole, he was elected state senator, succeeding, after one other worthy, one B. Joseph Tully, who followed in Sheehy’s footsteps as city manager of Lowell. Sheehy was quite the city manager — he committed a string of felonies, including attempted extortion, mail fraud and wire fraud, during a crime spree that spanned two centuries.

By the way, Lowell just picked a new city manager — Sen. Eileen Donoghue. Maybe the third time will be the charm, and this state senator from Lowell can keep her hand out of the cookie jar.

Of course, not everyone can have a statesman/convicted felon for a daddy. But if you don’t lack the right shady pedigree, don’t worry. Just give some money to Lt. Gov. Karyn Polito. Consider new Judge Daniel Roache, just approved by the Governor’s Council last week.

Roache turns 60 in July, so it behooved him to grab his black robes quickly, so he could max out his pension with 10 years of “service” before he turns 70. Once Roache ponied up $100 to Polito in March 2017, it was obvious that he was on the fast track to early retirement.

Like most Massachusetts judges, Roache is mostly a Democrat donor. He duked Hillary Clinton $250 in July 2016, and when it looked like Democrat Marsha Coakley might be the next person handing out early retirements to indolent lawyers, he handed her $1,600. Roache also liked to take care of Michael Bellotti, the Democrat sheriff of Norfolk County and the son of Democrat AG Frank Bellotti.

But more importantly, Sheriff Bellotti is the brother of Peter Bellotti, Judge Roache’s dear friend. Roache told the Governor’s Council that after taking early retirement as a judge, “I will offer each client possible successor counsel, which will include my friend, Peter Bellotti, whom I have worked for approximately 25 years.”

And now Roache is through working, ever again. He is now a hack Massachusetts judge.

With a mere $100 contribution to Lt. Gov. Polito — Roache got off cheap, very cheap. On the other extreme, consider the commissioner of the Department of Correction, Thomas Turco.

Turco comes out of the very ethical Worcester hackerama. He used to be a probation officer, and we all know the Probation Department has always been a dumping ground for the worst of the worst. After gainful unemployment as a chief probation officer, Turco was appointed to a hack job on Beacon Hill under Executive Office of Public Safety secretary Daniel Bennett, a former coatholder for Worcester DA “Honest” Joe Early.

Bennett, Turco’s boss, is currently accused in a federal lawsuit by honest state troopers of committing “multiple felonies” in an attempt to broom a case for the admitted junkie-prostitute daughter of a hack judge he used to work with in Early’s office.

Turco gave Honest Joe $950 over the years, and also contributed to the disgraced ex-Lt. Gov., Tim “Crash” Murray, another scandal-plagued Worcester coatholder. And of course Turco gave $500 to his latest patron, Gov. Charlie “Tall Deval” Baker.

But Turco’s main connection is fellow Worcester hack Karyn Polito. She’s collected $4,250 from the commissioner over the years, and a source tells me that Turco often refers to Polito as his “cousin.” Calls were placed to both of the hacks — Polito and Turco — inquiring whether they are actually related, or is it just one of those quaint hack things, where everyone getting rich in the hackerama considers himself related to everyone else whose snout is buried in the public trough.

Those calls were not returned.

Lesson for the day: Not everyone can be the child of a corrupt pol who went to the can in Danbury, but everyone can write checks for thousands to the right hack — or should I say, cousin?

Buy Howie’s new book “What Really Happened” at howiecarrshow.com.