Cheetah Woods

I have finally found someone with worse luck than me. Thank you Tiger Woods!

If there is one thing I find less interesting in this world than golf, its celebrities. So as you can imagine, I don’t give a marsupial’s mons veneris about Tiger Woods. That was, at least, until a few days ago. I hear that the putting putz had his 9 iron in at least 12 hot chicks! No wonder his wife tried to drive his head down the fairway with one of Tiger’s own weapons of choice. Ha! I love it.

I feel for the guy, though. His wife will take him for millions of dollars. I waited on my ex-girlfriend hand and foot for years, never once screwed around on her with a Hooter’s waitress, and she is taking me for all my money too. Hang in there, dude. The world’s not fair at all.

Hey, maybe Nike and Gillette will hire me to do their next commercials now that Tiger has been de-clawed. “Wheel Gun Bob. Just do it, muthafuckas!” Nice.

Actually, now that I think of it, fuck you Tiger Woods. You can sail off into the sunset on your multi-million dollar yacht while I’m trying to sell my 97 Harley Sportster just to make rent. Drop dead, asshole.