Friday, February 19, 2010

Easy, Tiger

Was just picking up a couple of (fantastic) Sicilian squares, and so happened to see the end of Tiger's mea culpa conference. Something occurred to me: what if he really is sorry? Not just that he was caught and all that, but maybe his rapacity for intimacy stems from, I dunno, hating golf, hating being trotted out on Johnny Carson at age zygote-plus, secretly wishing he was a nobody, just playing bass in a ski-lodge cover band in Colorado or managing a small municipal airport.

I mean, who knows?

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