Tiger Woods: A Lesson in Eating Humble Pie

Lost in the hustle and bustle of the Olympics Games last week, Tiger Woods issued an apology to his fans, family, friends, golfers, and sponsorship prducts last Friday for crashing his car and ruining Thanksgiving last year. In case you'd forgotten, the facts of the case were this: One of Tiger's mistresses was chasing him down the street with a gold club causing him to crash his SUV truck into his house. His wife heard the commotion and came out of the house to find him beaten up by the mistress who called the police. The police arrived and gave Tiger mouth-to-mouth rescuscitation until he woke up and then issued him an order to stop seeing his mistresses. It was then revealed that other mistresses had also beaten Tiger up at other places beside his home. Since the incident on Thanksgiving, Tiger had been laying low (in a tiger's den you might ask? more on that later) writing his apology until last Friday when he read what he'd written.

Now, as a married man I couldn't help but sympathize with Tiger's wife. How would I feel if my wife all the sudden slept with 20 or 30 men and women? I would feel pretty rotten, to tell you the truth. And I bet she would feel the same way. And believe me I've had PLENTY of women try to have sex with me when I'm at the flea market or down at Husky's B&G and have had to beat them off with a stick, so I also know how Tiger feels. One time I was at the gym doing the bench press when this woman came up to me and said "I like your belt buckle" and I said "thank you." I never saw her agian which is probably for the best. I've never played golf, but it's practically the same motion as rowing so I bet I'd be pretty good. At least a par. Maybe more.

From what I've read about Tiger's apology though it seems like he didn't learn anything from his mistakes. No mention of driving classes or a donation the the DMV in Florida. No mention of thanking the police officer who put his lips to his and blew sweet oxygen back into his lungs so that his brain had air and didn't die. (At least take the guy to Chilis and buy him a burger or something.Come on, man.) No mention of thanking the people who set up the press conference for him. They did an amazing job of lighting the room and providing him with a suit to wear so the least he could do was say "appreciate it guys." Look at how bright that light is!:

 

But I guess that's my point. We live in a society where celebrities can just walk all over whoever they want,
toss a couple hundred dollar bills down at their faces in the mud, and say "go buy a rag and clean yourself up you disgusting animal". (Which is exactly what happened when I met Richard Marx one time at an autograph signing at the mall and asked him what it was like to be related to Groucho and Harpo and he said that I shouldn't be such a wise guy and had me thrown out of the pretzel shoppe. Needless to say, I don't approach many celebrities anymore.) If I tried to do that the person down in the mud would say "who the heck are you? Go clean yourself up buddy." And he would have every right to say that to me.

*Tiger was not hiding in a tiger's den.

2010 Winter Olympics: A Bastion of Stoner Snowboarders

As a former elite athlete myself I couldn't help but notice that the Olympics are being held again this year. Following a complex secret algorithm the IOC committee decided to hold the "Winter" version this year, which is a good thing because have you seen what the weathers like this time of year in Canada? Sheesh! Good call IOC! But if you flip on the TV hoping to see Fred Phelps swimming the breaststroke like he was a couple years ago, think again. As I said before, these are the "Winter" Olympics, so that means that droves of stoned "amateurs" have descended upon Vancouver to try to rob the world of its precious metals and then probably sell them to go buy more pot by flipping around on skis and snowboards and walking around high fiving eachother.

You'll have to forgive me if I sound a little bitter about this whole deal but as someone that trained for the better part of a summer in the 90's only to see my dreams snatched away by an unfortunate "gouging" incident during a rowing meet, I take sports a little more seriously than your average fan. I was offered pot once (also in College) but I said "No thanks. I think I'd rather keep my brain, Professor Vaulkner. By the way, pot's illegal. And it has proven side effects." But hey, I'm no square. If you want to smoke a bong and then go do flips all over a mountain, I say "good for you". But should we really be giving these "athletes" metals for it? You wanna try something difficult, Cheech Marin? Try rowing down a river for an hour or two. Then come talk to me.

I will say this though: the opening ceremony was a beautiful as ever. They had these four people standing around this big room holding these torches. One young woman in particular was the definition of poise (see left). Then after sevearl minutes of tension-building silence these three big pillars came out of the sky or the ground or something and then three of the four people lit the pillars on fire. They must've flipped coins beforehand to see who got to light the pillars. You should have heard the crowd going nuts. All nations. Every person. Some of the athletes. It was amazing. I didn't get to see it because my wife was watching reruns of ER, but I heard it was scintilating. Sometimes I wish they still did it Greco-Roman style though where they'd have the guy run the torch in from Mount Olympus but I guess was too expensive to get him to run all the way from Athens or something.

Also, I'll need to check the TV Guide, but you can bet that the Dream Team is going to mop the floor with whoever their playing this year. Slam Dunk!

Official Brain Fencing Rules and Regulations Bill of Rights

Preamble: 

We, Tim and Burt, in Order to form a more perfect Brain Fencing match, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide enlightenment for the common idiot, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Official Brain Fencing Rules and Regulations Bill of Rights.

Bill of Items:

1. No cursing. Cursing only demostrates a limited vocabulary and could incur fines from the FCC. 

2. No name calling. Sticks and stones break my bones and words are hurtful.

3. No shouting. BOLDING AND CAPITALIZING OF WORDS SHOULD BE KEPT TO AN ABSOLUTE MINIMUM!!

4. Personal issues should not be discussed unless they pertain to the topic at hand, which they almost always do. 

5. If one of us has an ex-wife, the other person cannot call her whenever he wants, but only to discuss business ventures, personal things, and common subjects, such as the whether. Ex-wives are strictly off limits, both professionally and privately. Karna is not to be discussed in any comments going forward. Burt is never to mention her or talk to her on the phone again unless Dondra is on the line. (Except under special circumstances, such as when Karna calls Burt or on holidays on his birthday every year). Also, Dondra can call Karna for Burt whenever. Tim may call Dondra. Wives, former and current, are off limits to both brain fencers. (Text messages are tolerable, if not encouraged.) Trinkets can be exchanged by snail mail. Tim doesn't want Dondra to text him. Dondra is not a brick wall. Fillibusters and trinkets are disallowed. If Tim wants to have a key party at his house, he can, but Burt, his best friend, is not allowed to attend. If Burt wants to give Karna a wicker footstool out of the kindness of his heart he should be allowed to do so. Both Karna and Dondra deserve all the respect an ex-wife and wife deserve.

*Ratified 2/12/10

Burt Dangley:

Tim Sardepartment:                             

6. Brain Fencing matches should be focused and well thought out. Whenever possible, read the other persons argument, discuss it with yourself in private, and then invalidate it point by point. 

7. Outside parties are only welcome with consent of both Burt and Tim. The internet is not like TV where just everybody can have thier say. 

8. Jokes are appropriate only when funny. 

9. The winner of each match is decided by he who wins the argument. Thus, if you win the argument but feel the other person actually had better points, you can award him the winner. 

10. Debates will go on as long as they have to--until brain death!

Eveyone's Favorite Idiot

Burt, I have you right where I want you today, and no one will save you. You cannot argue you're way out of this, you cannot run to Dondra, you cannot call your brother and ask him to look up something on the internet that has slipped from your pea-brained mind. The Colts were annihlahted Sunday night and the argument. I proved something to myself Sunday night and that is this: Dan Rather said "Luck goes to those who don't depend on it". I have always been so confident and so successful, but now I have the proof. I guess sometimes the sun does shine on a dog's ass.

I took the Superbowl and analized it as hard as I could until I came up with the correct deduction and that was that the Saints would win. I knew it and I tried to tell you, man. I just kept telling you and telling you but you stuck to your stupid guns like a meathead. I was at a party Sunday night and there were some idiots there too who were rooting for the Colts and I just kept rubbing their faces in it over and over until the party was canceled. As I laid in my bed that night, the funniest part was imagining your sagging face during the final buzzer.

Your email about Karna doesn't make any sense. There is no situation in which you should be talking to her on teh phone. Do not email me again because I can't respond quickly enough, I want to talk to you on the phone ASAP.

Here's a clue about the Superbowl...

In case you've been in a coma for the last month, the New Orleans Saints will play the Indianapolis Colts for the Super Bowl this Sunday night. Everywhere I turn, some NFL "prognosticater" is telling me who will win this game and why. I read today that a simulator built by John Madden, the hall of fame coach, guaranteed a four point victory for the New Orleans Saints. There was also a virtual reality image created by the simulation that showed the saints coach hoisting the Super Bowl trophy! Am I watching Back to the Future, where Marty goes back in time and bets on all of the games because he knew each score? Oh brother, as I shook my head.

On TV, one expert said the Colts needed to run the ball more to win. Another said the Saints should! A third said they were both rong and that passing to the receivers was the key. The argument mediator broke in and said that they all forgot about turnovers. I don't know how it ended because I turned

Then I listened to two idiots on the radio debate wheter or not Kim Kardashian would distract the Saints running back. Ummmm, okay. I forgot that the Colts recently signed Kim Kardshian to play run defense. Give me a break, guys. I guess we will make up any excuse these days to talk about a beautiful, talented woman.

Just this morning I saw a story on the internet discussing the commercials that will be shown during the game. The commercials!! I had to laugh because I always turn my TV off during commercials and then back on again right as the program returns. This obviously saves energy, but I do it to avoid being brainwashed by the American consumer.

Let me let you in on a little secret. This is the greatest game in all of sports. There will be so many factors at play when the game is kicked off that predicting a winner today is like my wife Karna and me reuniting--- NOT GOING HAPPEN. She has a live-in boyfriend and they run some sort of martial arts academy, which is ridiculousu because she has always hated martial arts. This guy she is dating looks like your run of the mill piece of garbage. He recently tried to threaten me over the phone and made a reference to his black belt, so I told him we're not having this conversation and to put Karna back on the damn phone. We'll see if he says it to my face.