Mmmm. Hot, fresh schadenfreude topped with thick blithering hypocrisy sauce.
As I’ve said, it comes as no surprise to me that the world’s first billionaire professional athlete, who has totally dominated his sport since college and married a super model, was the target of skanky star fucker groupies. Nor does it shock that the man who has had pretty much every single thing he could ever even consider wanting handed to him on a silver platter (borne by a team of identical quintuplet midgets) might have wheeled the whole dessert cart back to his suite when he thought no one was looking.
None of this should surprise anyone in the least, save a slightly arched eyebrow at the sheer numbers now lining up for their fifteen minutes of skankroll fame.
Cori Rist, a New York woman who has been linked to Tiger Woods, appeared on the “Today” show this morning and revealed new details about her alleged affair with the golfer. Rist claims that her physical relationship with Woods lasted six months, but their friendship lasted two-and-a-half years, during which time Woods still “pursued” her. Asked to compare herself with the other women rumored to have slept with Woods, Rist said “I’m not like most of these girls,” but also added that she was “not judging them.”
Apparently Ms. Rist has three tits and her vagina is mounted sideways…or something.
Different? How in the hell is she different? She was fucking Tiger Woods. She knew he was married. Now she’s appearing, for money, on television talk shows to publicly wallow in her shame. This is like Geraldo insisting he’s not the same as Jerry Springer. Let’s check the facts: Neo-nazis…flying chairs…broken noses. I can’t tell the difference. Can you tell the difference?
As if that weren’t enough, she sprinkles on brainless, inherent contradiction like a handful of crushed almonds – she’s not judging those other girls…she just knows that SHE’S not like THEM.
Listen, sweetheart. If you aren’t judging them, then you have no basis whatsoever for claiming that you aren’t exactly like them.
Are you really so fucking deluded that you think you were the only one who really knew Tiger? Who really loved him? That your connection with him was ever so much more special and real than the one he had with his wife? Or any of the other dirty dozen?
“…he has a way to make you believe that he’s a very honest and good man…. I don’t think he’s an honest man.”
Really? What was your first fucking clue?
Sitting on the Today Show, shedding crocodile tears of shame. Oh, I recall those halcyon days of yore when shame was something experienced behind closed doors and drawn shades. When did shame and the public spotlight develop a 1:1 relationship? Like most things, it’s probably Oprah’s fault.
Rumours now circulating that wife Elin has presented El Tigre with an ultimatum: Wife and kids or golf. Can you say extended vacation followed by divorce?
In the meantime, off the pro tour and with sponsorship contracts withering and dying on the vine – some due to “morals clause” and some simply because a non-golfing Tiger is, sooner rather than later, worth zilch to Nike – Tiger’s game will decline. Golf ain’t like riding a bicycle. There’s a Lance Armstrong joke in there somewhere…
In any case, this rollercoaster ride is just getting started. The real twists and turns are still down the road, some awaiting the rest of the ho’s that are lawyering up and preparing to go public.
Timing is, of course, everything. Number 18 will get a book deal because the title, “I was Tiger’s 18th HOle” is too good to pass up.
Number 19 will be lucky to get a job flipping the letters on Larry Flynt’s version of Wheel of Fortune.
The only thing that is inevitable is Tiger’s eventual return to the tour…after entering rehab, seeking counseling, taking the program, being chemically castrated and developing a severe hitch in his back swing.
Will he take interviews? Will he answer questions about the busload of skanks? Will he still be married? Will he make the cut? Will the crowds cheer or boo? Will he still have game? Will he be paired with Jesper Parnevik? Will he have two caddies – one employed by Elin, who NEVER leaves his side, ever, for any reason?
I’m conflicted. I don’t give a rats ass, yet I’m oddly fascinated by the whole thing. Especially the faux contrition and regret expressed by women who willingly went Tiger hunting and now take millions of dollars to spill the details of when, where and exactly what they got up to between the sheets.
Vado concubitus per vestri!