Save the Economy! (an open letter to Tiger Woods)

February 3, 2010

I know the world has been sitting on pins and needles while waiting to hear my thoughts on this whole Tiger Woods fiasco and it’s time I let you and Tiger in on my plan. 

You know he’s reading this in between updating his profile on from “Married Millionaire Manwhore” to “Single Wealthy Manwhore” (I am just assuming those are pre-set check boxes you can choose) and editing the book of pick up techniques he is working on with Bill Clinton and the NBA Players Association.  (So far it consists of just two lines that are guaranteed to work: “I’m an incredibly rich and famous athlete.” and “I’m the President.”)  I’ve used them both on my wife and they do work… eventually.  Sometimes. 

Anyway, on with the letter:

Dear Mr. Woods,

I know you are going through some rough times that quite honestly you completely deserve and brought on yourself.  But that is not my concern, that is your private business.  My concern is getting to watch one of the worlds most dominant athletes do what he does best.  That’s you.  Much like Spiderman, you swing around town shooting your fluids everywhere they will find purchase but also like Spiderman,  with great power comes great responsibility.

Everybody is all up in arms over when you will come back to the PGA tour and what you will say and how nobody will like you anymore, how contrite you should be blah blah blah.  Don’t listen to them.  They are all idiots.  Don’t

Tiger, take it from me, a random guy with a blog.  Here is what you need to do: 

You need to take the “Hulk Hogan in 1990’s” career route when he went from being the most beloved good guy in wrestling to becoming the most hated bad guy.   Become the golfer we love to hate the most.  Colin Montgomery isn’t doing much with that crown at this time so take it from him!

Just think about it.  You may not have many sponsors at the moment.  So what.  That won’t last long.  

To start out you should wear a hat that just says “Kiss my Ass!” , a black “Punisher” T-shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and worn out torn jeans complete with a chewing tobacco wear mark in the back pocket. 

Make a putt with this standing across the green Phil Mickelson. 

Oh, you also need to keep a shotgun in your bag and just bring it out and ‘clean it’ once in a while during a lull.  Mark your ball with a bloodstained tooth with the roots in tact or the skull of a chipmunk.   

Just totally embrace being the badass of the golf world. 

You know what?  You WILL get sponsors.  For every Nike, AT&T, and Gillette that drops you, you will have Tap-Out, Mountain Dew, and Hooters knocking down your door to wear their gear on the course and show up in their commercials. 

Heck, Billy Dee Williams is too old and Colt 45 needs someone new to carry the mantle… Tiger saying “Smooth Colt 45… it works every time” while standing in a bar (or waffle-house) surrounded by women would carry a lot of weight. 

You could claim that you were an innocent victim of circumstance merely because you sprayed Axe body spray on yourself.   Tell me they wouldn’t shell out the dough to make that commercial.  You know they would. 

It’s important for our economy too.

For the most part, people really don’t really care about what you did or didn’t do away from the golf course but your squeaky clean image is gone so why not just go with it.  Then you can get back to dominating your sport and people will have reason to watch television and to read the magazines, buy the video games and on and on. 

Seriously, nobody is going to buy EA Sports Jesper Parnevik Golf 2011 or use a Sergio Garcia putter (nobody straight anyway… so that leaves only 40% of the golfing public). 

You are worth millions to this struggling economy.  So come on.  The country needs you. 

Get out there and kick some ass… and then, during your off hours, you can work on stuff like staying faithful and not banging every waffle waitress in town.  I can help you out on that front as well.  I have a LOT of tips on the art of not banging waffle waitresses. 

Actually, in many ways, I am the “Tiger Woods” of not getting laid so you couldn’t have come to a better place. 

Now go piss off the world with a golf club in your hand!


Commander Blogface


I refuse to go on Myspace. You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.

January 7, 2010

Just to be clear, I’m not speaking badly of hives of scum and villainy. I’m not “anti” hive of scum and villainy per se… I don’t want to be ‘that guy’.   It’s just that I’m very selective on what class of hive of scum and villainy I will go in. There are some very nice, upscale and business casual hives of scum and villainy that I enjoy. I just like a lot of atmosphere in my hives of scum and villainy. No apologies. Always been that way about hives of scum and villainy… probably always will be.

I relatively recently started going on Facebook which is sort of in theory like Myspace only that’s like comparing a nice stroll through the park to running through a mosh pit at a GWAR concert wearing nothing but a G-string made of Methamphetamines.

Facebook is a nice little place to go and read some crap one of your friends thought was important like how their new shoes are a half size smaller than the size they thought they were or something equally important like how yummy McDonald’s new McMeat Fillet is.  (or some stupid link to their self important blog about Myspace)  But it’s nice, you read, you play some games, you become obsessed with the damn games and can’t stop playing the damn games and you become enraged when people won’t accept your invitation to join in your awesome elf and dwarf fight with cards game because you could RULE the whole damn magic card kingdom if only people would just JOIN each and every one of your game requests but they DON’T.  Of course you don’t reply to their requests to join their games because their games are stupid.

On the other hand, MYspace just assaults you on every level.  It’s a mishmash of images and sounds and it is just too damn LOUD.   It’s too “Look at MEEE!” for me.  (unlike this blog… which is totally different… shut up)  With MYspace, its all “Hey, you want to read MY posts?  Well you have to listen to MY choice of music while you do it and have seizures to MY choice of hypnotically flashing backgrounds of butterflies or skulls.”  Not to mention the viruses.  MYspace is the seedy(aren’t they all) nightclub of the internet:  Loud, too much flashing, and pants-loads of viruses just waiting for you to touch them.

So MYspace can kiss MYass.  There.  Now that’s out in the open. You can resume your day with the knowledge of what I think about that stuck in your brain.

(as a side note, don’t just go checking to see if “” is a real site while your child is in the room.  It is….  and I lunged for the back button just in time so he didn’t see it but it is in my son’s words when I took him to see “Watchmen” without knowing that it was R rated: “un-appropriate”. )

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