Okay, so I'm a day late with replying to this but unlike the rest of the free world the Tiger Wood's apology wasn't the most important thing on my agenda.
However, since I did post a previous blog about this story I felt it deserved a follow up - sans humor.
I'm probably going to be the only person to go on record to say this, but I actually felt sorry for Tiger. Not because he was making a public apology but because the few months of self imposed exile haven't been kind to him. He's a balder, fatter, broken version of his former self. In a few months, he managed to age 10 years.
I lied, I said this would be without humor. I can't help but to giggle when I hear people say "poor Elin". Poor Elin?? Poor Elin is about to get $300Million dollars because her husband decided to live his own version of Stepford Wives.
Then there are the other women in this saga that say they didn't know he was married? Um, okay. Let's go back to the 'most famous athlete in the world' plug. Come on man. It's sad how we managed to paint Tiger as the bad guy in all of this and he's really not. The other women, they knew the deal. His wife had a clause in their vows which paid her in the event this happened. It's business and everything happened the way it was supposed to.
As with all things Tiger, this will in some way spark interest into the formerly boring sport of golf.
A good friend once told me that you could wrap bacon around dog shit and it would taste good. I never want to know if that's true or not, but it did make me remember how great bacon is and the impact that it's had on other foods.
It's just something about those smoked slices of pig belly that makes my insides do cartwheels. For that first person that looked at a pig slopping around in mud and it's own dung and decided..... hmmmm we should eat that - much love to ya.
You're probably wondering what I'm smoking, to devote my energy on blogging about bacon. Well, I didn't eat pork growing up. My parents decided they wanted to be Muslims. Not the Osama kind but the Malcolm X kind. Somehow I knew early on that any religion where I couldn't eat pork or date white women wasn't the life for me.
Every time I research a new diet, I look to see if bacon is one of the allowable foods. If it's not, I naturally assume the person that created the diet is an idiot and I move on. Dr. Atkins was a man after my own cholesterol filled heart. The Atkins diet is a mans diet, full of bacon. I could eat a trough of bacon and as long as I didn't eat a piece of bread with it I would be within diet regulations.
My saddest bacon moment is when I visit one of my favorite Chinese buffets and I see the old fake crab meat or chicken from buffets past. But, because it's wrapped in bacon I give it a pass and I scoff as much down as I can, knowing that I'll see it later.
Bacon can bring any dish to life. What would a tomato and lettuce sandwich be without bacon? The only thing not improved by Bacon is acting. Sorry Kevin.
Don't shit where you eat. Don't buy your candy where you buy your groceries. Don't dip your pen in the company ink. Don't shit on your own doorstep. The previous terms originated in the 40's and are commonly used today as alternate ways of saying don't do THE DO with people you work with.
I wish someone would have given me the DON'T SLEEP WITH CO-WORKERS book FOR DUMMIES. Maybe then I would only be a 2 or 3 time loser. I had no idea what the other references meant and all I could think was "why in the hell would I shit on my own doorstep?"
At any rate, I learned a hard and valuable lesson through it all. I'll never sleep with the same co-worker more than ten times.
Sleeping with a co-worker isn't really the taboo thing that people make it out to be. But, developing a relationship with a co-worker is a whole different animal and should be avoided at all costs.
However, everyone isn't capable of having a casual fling with a co-worker or anyone else. If this is you, I suggest you visit the battery or lotion aisle in Walmart or try your luck with match.com. Work is tough and draining, hence the name. Office flings should be used to reduce the tension of the day and should never at any rate induce stress for either participant. When emotions are involved, the stress is sure to come.
Another popular saying that also derived in the 40's is "there's no such thing as a free lunch". This adage translates to - you can't get something for nothing. Putting that in mind of our current conversation if you want the office sex, you better be ready for everything else that's going to come with it.
I'm sitting here in my home office and I had to stop to remind my receptionist, a female Basset Hound named Sam that she has nothing to worry about. I mean, I have hit on her a few times at the Christmas party but she wasn't that into me.
Men, this memo is written as a reminder to us. We tend to look at the workplace as our personal stalking ground where even the ugliest girl gets cute if you see them long enough. We also suck at temptation, just ask that Adam dude. My suggestion is to leave the boning of the co-workers to the professionals; Clinton, Beetah, Letterman and all the fledgling porn stars.
Zip it up.
This is my first bit of useless info for 2010. I’ve been sitting here wondering why it has taken 10 days to put out a message on the blog called The Daily Deuce. I guess sitting on the couch with one hand tucked in the top of my pants was more appealing. Then again, I’ve never put out a daily blog and when have you met a motivated pot head?
It has also taken me 10 days to balance my checkbook. As you can see I’m starting out on the wrong foot towards saving and making money. I was watching the news and I heard the recession is over. If that’s true, why am I considering work as a male dancer to pay off Christmas gifts? Bown chikka bown bown.
I have 354 more days to work out some creative ways to drum up extra cash this year. The market for a fat, middle aged male stripper is probably non-existent so I’ll have to spend my time on another equally challenging pursuit.
I want to offer additional ethnic television channels. Black people have BET (Black Entertainment Television). That leaves the market wide open for TV networks geared towards ethnic groups.
HET (Hindu Entertainment Television). Okay, maybe not. HET sounds too much like HATE. The timing for them is a little off right now. Sorry guys.
LET (Latin Entertainment Television). On second thought, this would probably not work. Equal scheduling would need to be split between Mexicans, Cubans and Puerto Ricans. I know, I know – it was a shock to me too when I found they weren’t the same.
WET (White Entertainment Television). It kinda sounds like a gay porn variety channel, but I think it would work. After some quick research, I won’t make any money on this one either. I just checked my 248 channels and WET is currently up and running already under a few different names (NBC, ABC, CBS, FOX, LIFETIME, A&E, USA, TNT, TBS etc).
I guess that brings me back to male dancer or pot salesman and I don’t have the mental strength to just sell the pot. I’d have to sample it – daily. Daily samples would lead to zero sales. I saw Scarface “don’t get high on your own supply”.
~
I just took a break and looked at my money maker to see if I could make it as a male dancer. I have a beer gut like a pregnant woman in her last trimester and chest and pubic hair thicker than Kimbo Slice’s beard.
Here I sit with two more days to go before I start off on the journey of another 365 days of lying to myself, better known as New Year’s resolutions.
These are my top 5 (previously failed) resolutions and how I’m going to keep them in ’10.
Develop 6 Pack Abs:
Why is this the first resolution that so many of us choose to pick for the New Year? Especially when we’ve decided upon this lofty goal while eating a huge slice of Jamaican rum cake (or maybe I’m the only one that does that).
It’s just not in the genes for me to have a 6pack (unless it’s Pabst Blue Ribbon). Even as a skinny kid, I had a gut like a starved Ethiopian. The only thing missing from my summer pictures as a child was the flies.
This year is going to be different. I’m going to have 6pack abs by summer 2010. It’s going to happen his time because I’m saying it while drinking tea. No Jamaican rum cake. No potato chips nearby.
Another reason I know I’ll be successful in this endeavor is, I learned a lot about eating right in 2009. In my previous attempts at a slimmer waistline, I only did crunches. I didn’t run; I ate at McDonald’s 3 times a week and I wondered daily why I wasn’t getting the results I wanted. Hmmmm??
Save $$:
This has been on the resolution lineup for most of my adult years. I just checked my savings account and I have .44. FAIL!
If I stick to eating right to meet the abs goal (above) and budget my weed, saving money this year shouldn’t be a problem.
Go Back To School:
TV is ruining America. Let me correct that, Late Night Infomercial TV is ruining America. Carleton Sheets, Better Trades, Dean Graziosi, John Beck, Russ Dalbey are all responsible for providing false hope to those of us that never make it off the couch.
In my blunt haze, I usually find myself weighing the options of going back to school or spending the money on a course that’ll get me rich quick. In reality, I’m getting the course hawkers rich(er).
To recap, I still have .44 in my savings account. Going back to school should make it to my list of To-Do’s for 2010, right after I put all of my infomercial courses on EBay to pay for the first semester.
Volunteer:
Okay, this is probably the toughest one of all. I was a volunteer for Big Brother/Big Sister and during that timeframe it hit me like a ton of bricks – I don’t really like kids; especially bad kids from single family homes.
I’ll have to switch my volunteer efforts to Habitat for Humanity for 2010. This way it’ll be a win-win. I can volunteer and learn a trade at the same time.
Be an Example:
Okay, WTF does that mean? Notice I didn’t say be a good example. I’m just going to work on being an example and live the life that I want. I’m going to strive to be the best I can be. In this case, it’ll be the best porn watching, pot smoking loner stoner ever. Oh, and I’m going to look good doing it.
T'was the winter of 1987. One day before Christmas, better known as Christmas Eve. My dad instructed my older brother and I to go out and find a Christmas tree for a poor(er) family that we knew in the city. To the person that doesn't know my dad, it would seem like this was a noble gesture of a warm hearted man. I almost bought into that same sentiment until he handed over $15. Fifteen dollars to buy a tree? Okay, this was 22 years ago, but the prices of Christmas trees haven't changed much from what I can tell. He looked over the rim of his thick Cazal glasses and gave us that look that meant "don't come back here without a tree", or at least that's what we understood.
My brother, Chucky and I set out on our task to find the world's cheapest tree. We rode along in our 1980 Chevrolet van with the captains chairs, bed, black & white, non-working TV, and the house phone installed in the dashboard. The phone was a good way to draw attention in the mid-80's while stopped at a red light.
We came upon the first Christmas tree stand and pulled in. As the younger brother, I was the natural choice to try to broker the deal. The salesman wasn't having any of my normal nice kid spin. He stuck to his guns and didn't budge on giving up a tree (for less than $30).
I remember walking across the parking lot back to the van. It was probably closer to 4:30 and the sky was getting darker. It was at that time I was hit with a stroke of genius, or idiocy depending on your view. I asked my brother to pull up next to the far end of the tree stand and wait for me. At this time in my life I wrestled and played football and prided myself on being mildly athletic. I guessed at the weight of a tree and how far I could run with it before someone could chase me down. I walked slowly along the trees, pretending to be counting 'more' money but watching my brother a few yards ahead of me.
Then like a bolt I was off, I snatched a 6 foot pine tree and sprinted as fast as I could to the brown van. My brother was kind enough to have the doors partially open for me but got scared as I was running and kept pulling off. It was like a scene out of a bad comedy that we've seen too many times.
I finally reached the van, slid the side panel door back and dove in with the tree on top of me. My brother sped off as fast as he could in that clunky, poop brown piece of partially rusted metal. We were riding along the river front with pine needles flying everywhere. I fought to close the door then made my way to the front passenger seat. It was the great escape! We stole in the name of Christmas. It must have been what Robin Hood felt in his many adventures. We got the tree and still had the $15. Life was good!
On our way home, we made two more similar heists at a couple unmanned Christmas tree stands. It was the best feeling in the world. It was around 6pm when we were finished robbing from the rich to give to the poor. We headed to the city to give the three trees to some needy families.
Some of you may ask 'why bother', it's almost too late. We're black, since when have we done anything on time?
As I sit here writing this, I remember being especially proud of what we did. The best part was bringing my dad back his $15. We walked in the house with our heads high and handed my dad the money. I remember it being three $5 dollar bills because after I told him what we did, he punched me in my chest and knocked my 140 lb frame across the room. The three $5 bills remained on the coffee table for at least a week as a reminder to me to never steal.
I wasn't always a quick learner and I'm sure he meant well with both the punch and the failed attempt at the 'meaning'. The lesson I took away from that event was - buy a damn fake tree for $20 and keep it until you can no longer screw it together. Thanks Dad.
By now, everyone in the free world has heard stories of Tiger Woods and the multiple women reporting they had lasting affairs with the pro golfer. I'm getting ready for a press conference shortly to tell how Tiger seduced me too (I could use the extra Christmas money).
The act of being unfaithful isn't new. It doesn't make Tiger any less of a man. It doesn't make him a lesser father. It damn sure didn't negatively impact his golfing ability, or did it?
The active pro golfers should be thankful for the string of women he had to keep him busy. It's probably the reason they were able to eek out a win here and there.
Our fake outward values as a society will prompt many to openly condemn Tiger and provide emotional support to his wife Elin during this hard time. But, none of it really matters. First of all, we have no idea what their home situation is and second, men cheat. It's not a slam to men, it's what we do. Now, I don't want anyone to be confused and assume I'm saying only men cheat because that would be the biggest fallacy of all.
Women cheat also, but the majority of them that do stray are usually seeking emotional support. Men keep it simple. We cheat for the sex. Because we cheat for sex, we're often found in situations where the woman we're cheating with isn't on the same level as the woman we're in a relationship with. This isn't always the case ladies. But, if you catch your man cheating with someone that lives in a trailer park don't get mad, she lives in a trailer park.
Once we figure out how to get sex, we keep working and reworking that plan to be as successful as possible. Before you ask, "why doesn't he just have sex with his wife"?
Maybe he tried that and it wasn't good or consistent. Or maybe they had sex daily. He's a Tiger!! The hunt is just as good as the meal.
I picture him waking up every morning singing that damn Frosted Flakes song to himself.
