In view of the other women who have come forward and claimed having rolled in the hay with a certain famous golfer, I feel that I must also come forward and make my own confession.
I have not had sexual relations with that man, Mr. Woods.
I’m sure that comes as a great shock to you, but I ask that you respect my privacy so that my husband and I can concentrate on our laundry.
That and the latest crises in the lives of our three adult sons. And the twice-a-day pilling routine with Scottie, in which I cram the capsules down his throat, and he spits them back out until they are so sticky with dog slobber that I have to throw them away and start over. Oh, and then there’s my business, where I spend 80 hours, give or take 20 or so, every week.
So, unfortunately, I haven’t had the time to have a fling with Tiger Woods. Or with anyone else, as far as that goes.
How does anyone have the time to have even ONE affair, much less NINE? Do these people ever take out the garbage or pick up the dry cleaning? Maybe in Tiger’s case, he can pay somebody to do those mundane chores, but even so, how would he keep all of their names straight? Keep one from finding out about the other? The logistics are mind blowing.
And what kind of excuse for being late or unavailable could he use –- “Sorry, Honey, I’m working late at the sand trap?” Fat chance.
Tiger may be the number one golfer in the world, but that’s a distant second on the list of his talents.
First is juggling.
If Tiger Woods ever decides to branch out and do a time management program, I’m there. Meanwhile, he needs to get a dog. With allergies.
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