Tiger and Me(sic):a heartfelt confession

Dear TMZ, People, The Today Show, Good Morning, Letterman, and anyone else who will further my windfall of fame and fortune,

It grieves me deeply that I feel compelled to come forward to say that I am the true skeleton in the well appointed closet of Tiger Woods. Yes, it is true, we have conducted a secret and torrid affair for many years. He promised to eventually leave his wife for me if I would agree to breast implants. My religion forbids it. I'm not one to sacrifice my integrity or the bond of confidence for personal gain.

If you'd like to know more details, please contact my lawyer (abgado), Manny De La Copa, in Miami. You may have seen his ads on TV, he's "your abogado in a cup!". I don't get it either, but that's Manny. You'll like him, he always honors the highest bidder, although we resist any long term agreement involving exclusivity. I'm sure you understand.

I will say my days, and nights, with Mr. Tiger were like none I've ever known, and involved some interesting putting practice, as well as our own special little games we dubbed "a hole in one" and, my favorite, "pin the tail on the Tiger".

Why I am just now coming forward after all these years is because I feel it is the public's right to know, and even our president often stresses the need for personal sacrifice in promotion of the greater good. It is my duty as a loyal American to no longer deprive the people of the interesting and often peculiar details of my most intimate moments with the Mr. Woods. Not to mention my potential as a centerfold and pop celebrity. I would be remiss in my obligation as a citizen if I did not make these sacrifices so America could follow me around with cameras and microphones and discuss me publicly.

Since my affair lasted much longer than those cheap hussies, now seeking publicity, I'm sure you will alter your focus from them to me. I'm the real deal. You'll soon see, provided you meet the terms set out by Manny, that Tiger's heart is mine.

Thank you.

I look forward to a mutually lucrative relationship.

Sincerely,

Juan O Ballistic

PS: I hereby claim dibs on copyright for new commercials themed "I Am Tiger Woods*" ...*secret lover

golf video

Doc, It Hurts when I do this--Don't do that

So, there I was, at the house owned by the guy who is Chicago connected. Mayor Daly's pal, and Obama's. This may explain the wealth, to a point.

Anyway, it was another project of dubious urgency. It involved a guy delivering and installing an item. Unfortunately, Pierre's pal allegedly began vomiting and and other grossness, so he was dropped at the emergency room, leaving pierre to carry on alone. I became Pedro, the illegal, I mean Undocumented worker's substitute.

During the process Pierre and I discussed the merits of CA vs Memphis, and such things as that. We agreed that it is a nice place if you ignore the cost of living and all things related to how the place is run and taxed. So, as long as you avoid the news, and don't start a company which employs documented workers, you can enjoy life.

It is so hard to avoid hearing anything news wise. Now the president is meeting with a few handpicked businessmen regarding "Jobs creation" or some other such misnomer. Necessity is the key to job generation. And freedom. People who talk "job creation" are rarely the people who do those jobs unless they are cushy, corrupt opportunities for extorting wealth from others.

Does it not seem a perfect opportunity for further feeding of special interests when the president meets with a select few to determine what he "can do for business" to help them do whatever it is he wants them to be doing? Especially since he slams the profit motive of businesses small and large. That talk usually leads to locking in the giants while killing innovation and competition.

The big boys will cry out publicly, but that just adds support for their backhanded agenda. It's the old Brer Rabbit thing, 'Please don't throw me in the briar patch!" Suckers.


Avert your eyes and ears, and you won't feel a thing. That is what I keep telling myself. In the mean time I have my camp stove and tent, just in case I have to go on the lamb as an insurance fugitive. I need a catchy protest phrase along the lines of "hell no, I won't go". "Hot damn, f*** your plan".

Since I agreed on my settings not to spell out such words, I use stars instead. It could stand for "flee", or "fish". I doubt that it does.

Just don't look, do not listen, ignore ignore ignore...
The key to happiness.
Well, that and hot chicks...