Some reasoned, unabrasive debate on Tiger Woods:

December 17, 2009

Done for college, hence: No links, no images, no swearing. Insert words like ‘fuck’ where and when appropriate.


Uh-oh, it looks like famous people are having sex again. Who would’ve thought that the more glamorous side of human society also took part in this act? Yes, famous people who do sport are all having sex. Just like your granny did. Horrible, isn’t it? Just absolutely horrible. Dirty, pre-, post-, and mid-martial sex; glorified rabbits banging away like carpenters at wood and nails, and no amount of innuendo-filled sentences will hide that fact from us.

Well, so long as we keep reading about it. After all, we continue to read, so details continue to raise their heads up at us, blinking innocently from behind the Tellytubbie hill as if to say, “Should I come out now? I may also of had sex with Tiger Woods.” This ‘expanding’ sex scandal, as the online news site the Huffington Post so eloquently put it, is just the latest one to capture our lust-filled, craven imaginations.

So, what are we to do with this ever-expanding scandal? At this rate, it could reach a good 3-metre girth by this Thursday, and after that, who knows? We’ll need at least a weekly pullout supplement to contain all the sordid details. We could place it neatly between the Health pages on a Monday, complete with Victoria’s Secret leaflets and sexual health coupons.

So, allegedly, it appears Tiger Woods has been having sex with women other then his wife. If even half of the plethora of working class heroines is to be believed, then this has been going on for a while. Thankfully, one of the waitresses, Mindy Lawton, has assured us that he is “very well endowed” and “knows his way around the bedroom.” Promptly after that piece of expansion, the nation heaved a collective sigh of relief as the pun about his 9-wood was avoided.

In other news, ‘allegedly’ is fast becoming the most popular word of Collins A-section and this story might just help it pip ‘anecdotal’ at the post.

It all started to come out a week or so back, when Tiger crashed his 2009 Cadillac Escalade into various upright objects, ending with a hospital trip for some minor facial cuts.

If it had ended there, we all would have slept happier. Columnists wouldn’t have to keep their lights on for fear of a newly sexualised Tiger Woods coming in and invading their home, maybe humping your bedpost like a dog in heat. Roadside-Diner waitresses wouldn’t have to fret over whether to go public with the fact that Mr. Woods may of winked at them. The commentary that followed seemed to bring a whole new meaning to the idea of the tiger as a predator.

After some obligatory National Enquirer (an American tabloid that is notoriously liberal with the truth) allegations, a few apologies, broken up with some shrugging on all our parts, San Diego cocktail waitress Jaimee Grubbs revealed that she had a two and a half year affair with the golfing icon. Then each gate of hell successively opened, and at time of writing the affair count is up to seven (Or nine. Or seventy-four. Depends on how loose your definition of fact is). It’s getting to the stage were everyone who hasn’t had sex with Tiger Woods are starting to feel a little low on confidence.

And of course then come the cries of anguish; the people who tell us “He should of known better”, the women who see this as just another man chasing skirts, the men who see this as another stick we can be beaten with. The parents, oh! The poor parents! Those frontline soldiers who are gathering up their sons’ and daughters’ golf clubs for a public burning, the fathers of teenage boys pushing them towards Wilkinson’s latest 27-blade razor for their first shave. The laminate clean role model has been stained and how dare he do such a thing to us!

But, bluntly, Tiger Woods is just a guy who plays golf. White ball goes on plastic thing. White ball hit with metal thing. White ball goes in hole. Repeat. Admittedly, it’s a bit more complicated, but if you asked a software engineer what they did for a living, most people would require a similarly layman-like description. This is his job, this is what he does, and because he does this on TV shouldn’t make him any more or less of a human to look up to. If he’s to be a role model for our kids, let’s confine it to his golfing abilities. Yes, we can ask (and ideally expect) everyone to act in a moral and respectable manner, but if your next door neighbour starts to sleep with his orthodontist, do we splash it all over the papers, hang it over their heads publicly like underwear off a doorknob? Disgraceful behaviour indeed, but on the whole: none of our bloody business.

Why should sport stars be expected to be any better of an example then rock stars? Most parents wouldn’t like to have a son basing his moral and ethical codes on someone like an Axl Rose or Rapping-rappy McRappington, or whoever, so why do we think differently of sport stars? Both lifestyles are radically different from our own; both often incorporate a seedy side (as we look in from our puritanically-phallic ivory towers), and both usually consist of young people being thrown into the limelight, with little more then talent in their hands and the giddy expectation of a lifestyle that most youngsters dream of: Sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ golf clubs. To argue that because they train daily and diet makes them better belittles the extensive work done by musicians behind the scenes, in the recording studio or song writing with the band.

Tiger Woods is not the Italian Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi: Even if it turns out that he is a lothario of equal measure, he was not elected to represent the public and he does not receive a wage out of our taxes. Sport stars are just people who entertain us. We pay them for this through television deals and sponsorships. To expect any more of them is naive. To deny them the privacy we would expect ourselves is just an example of the sadder side of human nature.

A Leader we can all Aspire to Mock

October 7, 2009

Berlusconi is fucking awesome.

[Background: Italian Prime Minister. Owns everything in Italy practically; Media, Football clubs, runs the God damn country. Also, he happens to be repeatedly involved in activities unbecoming of a Prime Minister. Oh, also? Idiot.]


Berlusconi: Pre or post-coitus? I’m thinking mid-.

Of course, I mean that he’s awesome in that “all that stuff is happening, like, elsewhere, man. Like, yeah,… crazy shit?” Where were that here I would be openly training monkeys to fling poo in his direction.

That’s all I could do really: direction. You don’t expect me to be able to train them to actually hit him do you? I am a man of little to no monkey training experience and I imagine that at best I could point them and hope that all overused Internet jokes involving animal stereotypes ring true.

Anyway, what neatly summed this man up for me today was, much like a nice package you might get from the ‘Internets’ (or, Santa, or whatever is the ‘in’ phrase) I came, nay, stumbled, across a little article on RTE today. I shall provide the link…..


[Lazy people link summary: Berlusconi is trying to bring in a law that will effectively make him above the law.]

You see, to sum it all up, much like the bear in autumn who gathers squirrels for their mid-hibernation snack (they do that, right?), Berlosconi here has been preparing. Getting himself ready. The fact that Mr. Silvio B owns everything in Italy, and runs the country, and is not Russell Crowe from Gladiator will soon even catch up with this old rocker. Berlo here has been trying to protect himself from the ramifications of really liking to have sex with hot, young ladies (You and me both buddy! High-cocaine snorting- five, baby!) by creating some laws, that could, you know, been seen as granting him a bit of a carte blanche. Assuming that the phrase ‘carte blanche’ means ‘I can do what the fucskio I want AND have my pizza too.’

Oh, before I forget, Warning, borderline racism and poor understanding of French can be found above.

Now, if Lethal Weapon 2 has thought us anything, it’s that this is a damn fine idea, and power to ya mate, go for it. Dip-lo-mat-ic I-mmun-ity, or ahem, a law that “shields him from criminal prosecution” worked for that whole film until Murtaugh shot him in the head at the end. And Danny Glover’s 63 years old these days, so, you know, just keep out of his way and you should be fine.

Anyway, Mr. Berlusconi. As a bit of a heads up to other possible avenues to explore, here’s some other Lethal Weapon plot angles you could try and throw into everyday life. For kicks and shit. Some of them don’t even need ‘Dip-lo-mat-ic I-mmun-ity’.

  • See if any of your stripper friends can get their way out of a straight jacket.
  • Every tried booby trapping someone’s toilet?
  • Offer Patsy Kensit a secretarial job.
  • Spend Christmas with a stranger’s family and endear yourself to them. Flirt with the daughter perhaps?
  • Attempt to strangle Gary Busey, realize he’s not worth it man!, and then shoot him later anyway.
  • Befriend Joe Pesci. Get him to act like exactly he did in Goodfellas to fit in around the home. Or Casino, it’s practically the same character.
  • Get involved with…. I dunno, triads or something?

Whatever, the 4th film was shit.

Lethal Weapon 4

Mel Gibson’s short hair + Chris Rock = You’re just taking the piss, Hollywood.