Tiger

Give up.

http://www.tmz.com/

http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20325232,00.html?xid=rss-fullcontentcnn

http://www.cnn.com/2009/SHOWBIZ/12/04/tiger.woods.role.model/index.html#cnnSTCText
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/joe_posnanski/12/04/tiger.woods/index.html

The strangest thing happened last night... I got a call from Tiger Woods. I wasn't home but he left me a message.

Hey
It's uh...
It's Tiger
I need you to do me a huge favor.
Um...
Can you
please
uh...
please erase your memory for the last 11 days
my wife is pissed
and
uh
she basically wants everyone to erase those days
she
may be
calling you.
So if you can
please
just erase your memory.
And um.
What do you call it?
Just fill the void with pleasant memories of me and my hot wife together
happily.
Just have it as your new memory.
OK?
You got to do this for me.
Huge.
Quickly.
All right.
Bye.

It was quite weird.

Seriously dude... just give up. At last count you've slept with a third of the women in the U.S. and a few chicks in Dubai. You've slept with more chicks then Serta. If the press keeps digging they'll probably find my wife's name for Christ sake.

I always thought eventually Nike would name a series of clubs after you, little did I know it would be your Johnson... "Tigers Wood... women love it... men want to swing it!"

You've laid more pipe than AT&T.

You've gotten more ass than a proctologist.

You should change your name from Tiger to Cheetah.

Now your mother-in-law appears to have been taken to the hospital... from your house. WTF. (Please don't have slept with her)

Dude, just give up.

If this keeps up they'll discover you beat baby seals and sell crack cocaine... that you hate kids and occasionally have straddled the fence... with a midget... and his mother. Eventually they will twist it so that you suck at golf. It will happen.

And your wife. She's pretty hot, but I guess it just goes to show you... no matter how hot they are there is someone out there who is sick and tired of their shit.

Seriously... give up.