There's been enough salacious commentary by sports journalists, newscasters, and TMZ on the Tiger debacle to last a decade. The scandal even made the incredibly competitive list of top-celebrity-crises-people-actually-give-a-shit-about in the year 2009, falling somewhere in between Michael Jackson's death and Kanye's hijacking of Taylor Swift's moment of glory. But I've just got to get my two cents in.
Unlike those professionals who have to maintain some pretense of political correctness and factual reporting, I have been given the rare opportunity at PIC to say whatever the fuck I want based purely on speculation, opinion, and outright invention with no worries of legal ramifications like slander and libel.
So, I have a confession to make: I, too, slept with Tiger Woods.
What are we up to now, 13 mistresses? Is anyone counting anymore?
I just informed Entertainment Tonight of our love affair in the summer of 2007 after I met him at a gala fundraiser charity ball event to send ponies to children with breast cancer in Zaire. I remember it like it was yesterday. I was wearing a flowing white gown and he was wearing endorsements for Nike, Gillette, AT&T, Gatorade, Pepsi, Accenture, Electronic Arts, and Tag Heuer.
I'm also planning on selling the rights to publish my story to US Weekly, unless Tiger pays me $1,000,000.
Let me tell you, though, Tiger sure lives up to his name…in my pants. He can swing with the best of them, and I don't mean with a driver…in my pants. He gets a hole in one every time…in my pants. You want to see some stroke play, just invite him to the U.S. Open Legs tournament…in my pants. I can't blame Elin for letting that tiger up in her woods…in my pants. Well, that last one doesn't quite work, but I could do this all night (in his pants).
You call this competition? I call this a 3-stroke penalty.Anyway, the point is, I'm like…SUPER pissed off that he went trampsing around behind my back with all these skank ass club hostesses and whatnot. Like…I could just never even picture him doing what we did together with anyone else, you know? I thought what we had was special, and now I find out he's been hiking the Appalachian Trail with every slut-faced girl from here to California. I thought he would only cheat on his wife with me. It's just unbelievable. I'm hurt, honestly.
Tiger, if you're reading this, I want you to know how much you hurt me. You are nothing but a rich, famous, relatively young and attractive white man whore with a black man's dick.
On second thought, that's all I really want in a man. Call me! (Don't worry, I already removed my name from my answering machine!)