Tiger Woods Wife Heroically Rescues Him From Car Crash with Golf Club

Unless you've been asleep or in Tanzania for the past four days you've probably read about Tiger Woods slamming is 12,000-pound Cadillac Escalade into a defenseless cyprus tree.  And here I thought driving was Woods' specialty.  Sorry.  The rumors and speculation about the cause of the accident immediately started flying faster than Lindsay Lohan downing a Grey Goose and cranberry.  Was he doing his John Daly impersonation?  Was his wife beating him with a banjo as he sped away to sire illegitimate Swedish babies?

Personally, I don't care about the real cause of the accident, and understand his desire for privacy.  But Elin Wood's explanation of the events has just added fuel to the fire.  Her husband is in a car accident less than four rhododendrons away from their driveway, traveling at a speed that didn't even deploy the airbag and Elin decides to use his 9-iron as the "Jaws of Life". 

According to Mrs. Woods, she smashed the back windows of his Escalade with a golf club to rescue Tiger.  Really?  Tiger is unconscious in the driver's seat, next to a perfectly good door.  But her plan is to enter the vehicle through the jagged back window, drag her 200-pound husband some 38 feet over four rows of seats and then through the aforementioned jagged back window.  Right. 

Again- don't care about your personal life, but surely you could have come up with a better lie than this.  I can personally think of 10 reasons for smashing the back windows with a golf club that are far more credible than her story:

10.  Was angry at the Escalade for not deploying the airbags during crash.
9.    Thought Tiger was going to the driving range at 2:00am and was just trying to get his lucky 5-iron to him.
8.  Saw her own reflection in the glass holding a golf club and mistook the window for an attacker.
7.  Just trying to get his attention because he forgot to kiss her goodbye.
6.  Mistook the 12,000 pound car for a giant black golf ball.
5.  Thought the windows were shatterproof and was just trying to kill a palmetto.
4.  Sleep walking while dreaming of 12-cylinder pinatas.
3.  Practicing on the front lawn at 2:00am while eating buttery popcorn.  Lesson learned.
2.  This is just foreplay at the Woods household.  Had no idea neighbors were watching.
1.  C'mon.  It's Florida.  After seven Amaretto Sours, who doesn't like to smash up a car window, officer?  Why do you think so many episodes of "Cops" are filmed here?

Sorry, Mr. And Mrs. Woods.  Hope you guys get this all straightened out and have a long, loving marriage.  But in the meantime, maybe you need to keep your mouths shut and let this blow over.

You Think You're Having a Bad Day? Man Discovers Father is Charles Manson.

Sure life can smack you upside the head with a rolling pin sometimes, but at least your dad isn't Charles Manson. Matthew Roberts, a 41 year old Los Angeles DJ recently revealed that his biological father is none-other-than Charles Manson, one of the most despicable and notorious whack jobs of the 20th century. Roberts was adopted at birth but decided to search for his real parents 12 years ago. He tracked down his biological mother, who revealed his father's true identity and the gruesome nature of their "relationship".

So here comes the old nature versus nurture argument. In this case, it appears that nurture has come out on top. Roberts is a Gandhi-following vegetarian pacifist. Good for him. Because that's one gene pool that most wish had been permanently drained for the winter. Like anyone within three standard deviations of normal, Roberts was horrified when he found out the truth. He likened it to finding out his father was Adolph Hitler. Well, I might argue that one.

But seven years ago, he did something that most wouldn't. He wrote a letter to his evil, impotent, meglomaniacal headcase of a father. I'm not sure why he would even consider establishing a relationship with this wild-eyed freak, but he did. And they've been corresponding ever since. Manson ends each letter back to his son with a swastika. Wow. I can't believe Hallmark hasn't scooped this guy up.

Roberts says he doesn't want to love him, but doesn't want to hate him either. I'm okay with the latter, personally.

I can almost read the letters now.

"Dear Dad- How is prison? Maybe someday you'll be granted parole and you can teach me how to fish. Or we could have a catch. I think you stand a better chance if you cover up the swastika on your forehead with makeup and stop threatening to molest the family pets of the parole board members. Write soon.

Your non-loving, non-hating son- Matthew."

"Dear Son- I'm really disappointed that you haven't brutally murdered anyone yet. You're 41 years old. What are you doing with your life? Tell Squeaky Fromme I'll be out soon. In the meantime, you need to stop with this conformist, peace crap you sissy. Try starting small. Next person you see, punch them in the groin. Then work your way up to something more challenging. Have to go now. My dinner is here. Quiche with asparagus tips. My favorite.

Burn in hell- Dad"

So next time you're late for work, hungover, have a pimple the size of Rosie on your chin, sitting in bumper to bumper traffic and the vibrations from the bass music in the car behind you is making your pancreas hurt, just remember; at least your dad isn't Charles Manson. Your glass is half-full, my friend.

Going Rogue? Does Sarah Palin Understand the Definition of "Rogue"?

Those who know me, know I don't attack people based on their political affiliation. Democrat, Republican, Libertarian, Socialist, Anarchist, Labour, Scottish National, Estonian Reform, Whig, Communist; I have no problem with any one group. Okay, maybe a slight issue with Communists. But this is not politically inspired.

I do however attack people based on pure, good old fashion stupidity. And I have to say that Palin quitting her job as governor to write a book ranks right up there with urinating on an electric fence. And when you consider the name of the book, "Going Rogue", well that elevates the stupidity status to cheating on your swedish supermodel wife with nine cocktail waitresses. It also begs the question, does Sarah Palin even know what the term "rogue" means?

The term rogue has rarely had a positive connotation with the exception of a few bad spy movies. You know those movies where a covert operative gets tired of killing people and attempts to quit, but "the agency" won't let him quit because he "knows too much", so he decides to go rogue. But he can't go entirely rogue because he loves some other operative and he's conflicted because this is really cramping his loner rogue style. So he kills the bad/good guys, steals some money and has it transferred into a Swiss bank account and rides off into the sunset on a Vespa through the streets of Milan with his love interest gripping him. Is this what Palin has planned?

But for the real definition lets call in the experts, shall we?

According to Merriam-Webster:
Rogue: Main Entry: 1rogue

Pronunciation: \ˈrōg

Function: noun

Etymology: origin unknown

Date: 15611 :

1 vagrant, tramp

2 a dishonest or worthless person : scoundrel

3 : a mischievous person : scamp

4 : a horse inclined to shirk or misbehave

5 : an individual exhibiting a chance and usually inferior biological variation

My guess is that she doesn't really want people to think she's "Going to exhibit a chance and usually inferior biological variation", though you could make a case. Or that she's a horse inclined to shirk or misbehave. Though according to some McCain staff, she was a horse's ass that was inclined to shirk and misbehave.

I'm not going to speculate about her intentions for publishing this book. Pundits have suggested revenge, redemption and re-entry into the spotlight. Based on these assumptions, maybe these are better suggestions for her book title.

"Going Target Hunting: A Campaign Story"

"Going to B#t$h Slap John McCain"

"Going Book Whoring"

"Going to Run in 2012: Who's With Me!"

"Going to Explain the $15,000 Suits"

"Going to Get That Katie Couric: And Her Little Dog, Too"

"Going to Develop a Loyal Following Who Will Either Nominate Me in 2012, or Become Steady Listeners to My XM Radio Show if Nomination Doesn't Pan Out: Either Way, I'm Getting the Hell Out of Alaska and Moving Somewhere Warm, Like Minnesota"

Okay, maybe that last one might be a little long for the book jacket. Regardless, I'm looking forward to her follow up book, "Went Rogue: And I Guess it Didn't Mean What I Thought, So I'm Back.

The Swine Flu Chronicles: Day Four- Resurrection

(continued from posts starting 11/16)

7:00AM- Symptom free. Plan on telecommuting today. Celebrate with a bacon and egg sandwich with a side of ham.

8:00AM through 5:00PM- I've re-entered productive society. Aside from answering way too many questions about how I feel, it was a good day. The sun even came out today for the first time in days as if to say, "Hey, have some sun". Still want to get the hell out of the house. Planning my escape tomorrow when Mrs. MacTavish isn't looking.

Epilogue

Three days of symptoms that were never too debilitating. Was it genetics? Was it my blood-alcohol level? Was I just lucky? Only the swine flusiologist in the sky can answer that one.

During the past four days I consumed 11 quarts of Gatorade, slept 49 hours, took five baths and three showers, had 12 meals in bed, watched the opening sequence of The Dark Knight eight times, watched Sarah Palin "Going Rogue" 14 times, though she doesn't look very rogue. Maybe it's future tense and she hasn't "gone rogue" yet. Maybe it's a threat like "Going Postal". My clothes smell like Lysol, and I really feel like I'm getting to know Wolf Blitzer well. Maybe too well. Still never caught the end of Apollo 13. Maybe next flu.

Other things I've learned this week: Mrs. MacTavish is too kind, our dog walks around on our hardwood floors all friggin' day, my neighbor's house needs to be painted, 24 hours is plenty despite what the crybabies say, HBO is worth the investment during flu season, Afghanistan needs troops, the President bowed to the emperor of China too early, I want to beat the idiot with the white board from the UPS commericals with a bag of hammers, and Oprah is finally quitting. Finally.

But it's all over, as far as I'm concerned and I'm shuttin' er down. Perhaps this is premature given the stories of relapse, but I'm feeling confident that this human has won the pig races. I know I've been far luckier than some as I'm neither young nor old. I feel for anyone who has had it worse, and for those who may have lost someone to the illness. I know this virus like other flu viruses leaves a wake of grief and misery. That said, stay healthy.

The Swine Flu Chronicles: Day Three

(continued from posts beginning on 11/16)

7:00AM- Woke up feeling normal. Got out of bed craving waffles, but apparently there is a nationwide Eggo shortage. Damn that Kelloggs corporation trying to artifically drive up demand and prices. Who do they thnk they are? Nintendo? Mrs. MacTavish made a fine alternative and had breakfast in bed yet again. Getting used to this. She is getting over this.

8:00AM- Check e-mail. Everything appears to be fine at the office. Ask if I am allowed to leave the room yet. It is now Wednesday morning and I have not left the bedroom/sitting room/master bath since 11:30PM Sunday. As much as I love these rooms, I need to get the hell out. I also need to get away from the smell of Lysol. The response to my request for parole, "What do you need to do that is worth getting the kids sick?" Nothing...I slink back into bed.

9:00AM- Hop online and head to WebMD to see when the "contagious window" closes. Seven days? That's a bunch of crap. Who writes this stuff? My mother? Cabin fever is setting in, big time. Turn on the tube to catch Palin pitching her book again. She looks awful conformist for someone "going rogue". Turn off tube and finally finish book I started three months ago.

11:00AM- Mrs. MacTavish comes home with some new chairs and invites me downstairs to see them. Haven't walked on stairs in days, so I'm a little nervous. They're exactly as I remember them and all goes well. Stay in living room for a full ten minutes soaking in the atmosphere.

12:00 Noon- Lunch in bed. Check e-mail, surf the Web. Feeling a little tired but not at all like the first two days. Ready to go back to work. But not recommended. Mrs. MacTavish makes an awesome soup and sandwich lunch. Lunch delivery has sort of a prison feel to it. She comes into the room and places the food in a "drop zone". I'm not allowed to get out of bed and approach the food until she has left the room. When finished, I place the dishes back in the drop zone and get back in bed. She sprays them with Lysol before picking them up.

2:00 PM- Flip to HBO 9 and catch Apollo 13 about an hour into the movie. Excellent. Plan to finally watch through to the end. Fall asleep after they fix the carbon issue. No strange dreams, unless you consider Lasik surgery strange.

4:00 PM- Awake and refreshed. Really want to get outside and go for a run. I've been warned that people have felt great after three or four days, and then get hit by a second wave. Pretty sure it won't happen, but heeding the advice of the Mrs. as I Do NOT want to hear, "I told you so". Starting to get hungry, but cannot feed myself and nobody is home to feed me. Starting to feel a little like our black lab. Lay down in front of the bedroom door and and exhale loudly. Doze off and dream of chasing squirrels.

5:00PM- The family arrives home and the kids slide their get well cards under the door. I pick up my cell phone and call the house phone to speak with them. Can't wait to spend real time with them again.

7:00PM- Watching news about Obama's trip to China. Oddly, there was more focus on Obama's meeting with his half-brother whom he barely knows. Was kind of hoping to hear more about our trade deficit with China. Maybe next story. Feeling completely normal. Really tired of the quarantine after three days. Could be much worse though, so I hate to complain.

9:00PM- Discovery has a special about the Mayan calendar and 2012. I suspect it won't be the last time they air this in the next three years. Looking forward to the wild parties on December 19th, 2012.

10:00PM- Started a new book on canines in 19th century needlepoint art. Fell asleep at 10:05.

The Swine Flu Chronicles: Day Two

(continued from previous posts)

5:30AM- Why am I up? Lay in bed thinking of donuts.

5:35AM- Back asleep. It's not as though donuts require much thought.

7:15AM- Wake up feeling slightly better. Mrs MacTavish brings me breakfast in bed, while the kids cautiously peek through the door to wish me well. Bagel and apple again as it's the only thing that appeals to me right now. Still feverish and sore, but don't feel nearly as miserable. Stomach still cramping.

8:00AM- Check the HBO guide where it appears that this is the week to feature Bride Wars, Kangaroo Jack, Hackers, Fred Claus and Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants II. I picked the wrong week to get sick. Begin watching Apollo 13 again from the point where I last fell asleep. Fall asleep after they stir the oxygen tanks and all hell breaks loose.

9:30AM- Take a long bath and some more Tamiflu. Sit and stare out of the bedroom window hoping for something exciting to happen like a meteor shower or a live musical to break out. Starting to get strange looks from people passing by. Check e-mail. Nothing at the office has exploded.

10:00AM- Attempt to read, but head hurts too much. Turn on TV and watch news coverage of Sarah Palin's new book, "Going Rogue". Not sure who is more annoying; Palin or the pundits. I feel like I'm about to go rogue.

11:00AM- Feeling feverish and fatigued so I lay in bed staring at the ceiling until lunch.

12:00 Noon- First real meal. Grilled cheese. Mrs. MacTavish makes the perfect grilled cheese. Not too grilled and not too cheesy. Immediately fall asleep after last bite. Strange dreams about changing our standard time measurements. Hours are now only 45 minutes. This bumps us up to 32 hours daily. Now people can stop bitching about there not being enough hours in the day.

3:00PM- Wake up feeling close to normal. Until I stand up too fast. Sit on sitting room couch and read stack of magazines that have been piling up since March. Start to feel sore again, so I take another bath.

4:30PM- Scanning the news channels. Palin is going Rogue on several other channels. No balloon hoaxes today. Plenty of loud-mouthed economists who claim to have this all figured out. Elvis is still dead.

6:00PM- Pizza for dinner served with love by Mrs. MacTavish. After catching up on some magazines, I turn on HBO12 to find Apollo 13 on again. Excellent. Maybe I'll see the ending this time. Fall asleep as they use the moon's gravity to slingshot back around toward earth.

8:00PM- Stomach has not been right today. Headaches have persisted, but not as intense. Joints are feeling better. Still running a slight fever. Say goodnight to kids through the crack in the door. So far, the worst part of the ordeal has been not being able to hug my family. My daughter fell on the stairs and I had to listen helplessly to her cry until her mom was able to get to her.

10:00PM- Just finished some reading and writing. No arithmetic. Apollo 13 is just starting. No way I'll make it to the end. Scan news channels. Hamad Karzai and Sarah Palin plan to release an album together. New recommendations on guidelines for when women should begin to get mammograms. A new task force (comprised of insurance companies?) suggests against routine mammograms for women under 50. The current recommendation is 40. And how do you explain this to those women who were diagnosed in their 40s? Morons.

10:30PM- Temperature almost back to normal. Lights out.

The Swine Flu Chronicles: Day One

(continued from post on 11/16)


6:15AM- Woke up 15 minutes early and something wasn't feeling quite right. Stomach was tight, head was cloudy. Attributed it to the Monday morning blues and attempted to put my feet on the floor. Whoa- feels like the morning after my bachelor party. Laid back down and went to sleep.

7:00AM- Woke up 45 minutes later still feeling the way Fidel Castro looks, showered, contemplated my day and wondered when I would snap out of it. At this point I was determined to get to the office. After driving well under the speed limit for 15 minutes, I contemplated pulling over and taking a nap. Chills, stomach pain, headache, morning radio. It was more than any man could bare. Decided to press on. Made it to the office garage with no intentions of staying. Took stairs and managed to avoid breathing on people or making eye contact while fetching my laptop. Made it back to my car and sat quietly attempting to muster up the energy to turn the ignition. As I was driving home, each bump in the road reminded me that leaving the house in the first place was a bad idea.

9:00AM- Was home and back in bed. Slept until noon having all sorts of strange fever-induced dreams about polenta, Albanian tax attorneys, Gilligan's Island and Cheez Whiz. Note to self: look those things up in a dream interpretation book.

12:00 Noon- Took temperature and Tylenol. My joints felt as though they were twisted in the wrong direction, my head felt like a tomato that had fallen to the floor and my body temperature seemed to fluctuate faster than the national healthcare plan.

2:00PM- I had dealt with my doctor and my prescription for Tamiflu was ready to be picked up. Mrs. MacTavish had officially quarantined me to our room. Spent the remainder of the afternoon in and out of sleep and strange dreams involving scotch tape and monkeys. While awake, I attempted to watch television. As luck would have it, we just signed up for a free trial of HBO. I had no idea there were 13 HBO channels now. Outstanding timing. Still no iPhone with the iSwine app though.

6:00PM- Finally managed to choke down an apple, a bagel and a quart of Gatorade. Head and body still felt like I went nine rounds with the Russian guy from Rocky V. Or was it Rocky IV? Started to watch Apollo 13, but fell asleep before launch.

8:00PM- Woke up in time to say good night to kids through the crack in the door. They're careful not to make eye contact with me. Started to watch the beginning of Apollo 13 again on a different HBO. Fell asleep during countdown. Slept off and on for the remainder of the night. Woke up at 5:00AM singing Cher's, "If I Could Turn Back Time". Had no idea I knew the lyrics.

Karma is a Female Pig: The Swine Flu Chronicles

10 days ago I was making light of the subject of Swine Flu while enjoying one of my favorite pastimes- making fun of the iPhone (see post on 11/5). Now it seems that this simple act of insolence has come back to take a nibble out of my posterior. Despite four months of wiping down door knobs, wearing masks on airplanes, holding my breath on elevators, marinating in a hand-sanitizer after meetings, wearing rubber gloves in public restrooms, wearing two pairs of rubber gloves in the state of New Jersey, reporting incidents of nose picking to the Center for Disease Control and kicking in the groin anyone who attempted to come within three feet of me, I have contracted the dreaded Swine Flu. Yes, the very same pandemic ailment that saturates the airwaves to the point of white noise, causing most Americans to roll their eyes and change the channel.

Okay, so maybe I wasn’t quite as paranoid as described but I did take a fair amount of precaution. But I suppose I was at a higher risk than most given that I’m on airplanes and public transportation far more than your average book-making taxidermist. I’ve never had the flu, let alone one named after a farm animal so I always wondered what it was like. I’m wondering no more, my friends.

Given the added dimension of precaution and paranoia, I thought I'd keep a daily journal of my illness and the associated quarantine. After reading this you can decide for yourself if you want to go out and get your own case on H1N1.

The following blog entries are almost entirely based on real events with only a dash of dramatic embellishment. Because let’s face it; who wants to read about some guy sleeping for five days straight? The names of the characters have been changed to protect the innocent. In some cases they’ve been changed twice. More to come.

Hugo Chavez's Ratings Falling. Rain Isn't.

Venezuela is in a major recession, there are significant water shortages and at least six major nationwide blackouts during the past two years due to lack of electricity. Things are looking grim for the petulant, anti-capitalist, little piss monkey Hugo Chavez. But instead of really taking ownership for the problem that stems from him ignoring critical infrastructure, Chavez has asked Cuba to bomb the clouds with iodine in hope of triggering rain. That's the best you have, Hugo?

Your country is one bad hair day away from a coup d'etat and you're placing your bets on Cuban bomber pilots, iodine and the trade winds. I guess you can't expect much from a man who is blaming the countries issues on long showers.

In a recent cabinet meeting, the angry little doorstop actually made the following statement “Some people sing in the bath for half an hour. What kind of communism is that? Three minutes is more than enough!” Way to deflect blame, Generalissimo BodyOdor. You've been running your country into the ground and playing the oil card for so long that you have no clue how to respond to a real crisis. Three minute showers and cloud bombing. Top notch. The Venezuelan people eagerly await your next brilliant plan. Massive urine-to-water conversion campaigns? Mandated homemade potato batteries?

Good luck with this one, comrade.

Pro-Choicers Declare Major Victory After This Photo Published

Making the other side look bad is a full-time job for demagogues and spinsters. However photos like this sure make their job easier. Millions of pro-lifers are currently cringing at this image of a seemingly possessed woman and her mullet getting carted off to jail. The crazed eyes, the t-shirt and turtleneck combo, the unkempt hockey cut, the mouth that appears to be in the middle of the sentence, "You're all going to Hell! Hell!"

In the meantime, the other side of the debate is saying, "Well done, Chip Somodevilla of Getty Images. Your photo says what would normally take seven to nine sentences." And yes, that's what a picture is worth these days in an A.D.D. world. Pictures are down considerably from a thousand words.

Regardless of your position on abortion, we can all agree that this point goes to Pro-choice. In the meantime, Pro-lifers are planning a counter attack by staging a photo of Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad wearing a Pro Choice fleece pullover while holding a pitch fork and a one hitter.

Jackson Reality Series: Michael Jackson's Body Finally Cold Enough to Cash In

It has been the longest four months of their lives, but it's finally here. The Michael Jackson death paycheck is in the mail. Jermaine, Tito, Marlon and Jackie have announced the launch of their new reality show on A&E beginning on December 13th entitled "The Jacksons: A Family Dynasty". Jackie Jackson? I had no idea there was a Jackie Jackson.

So the first episode airs next month, which means they decided to create the show at least a few months earlier. Which, according to my calculations means they started thinking about creating the show sometime before the ambulance arrived. Way to hold back the grief, fellas.

I can't say I blame them though, really. When he passed, Michael's family inherited more debt than AIG, a few carousels and a chimpanzee graveyard. And you may as well "make hay while the sun shines" because with the cumulative talent of the remaining Jacksons, Janet notwithstanding, the sun won't be shining for a very long time. If ever. Lunar eclipse, lads. Permanent lunar eclipse.

The reality show will focus on preparations for a reunion tour, and them coping with Michael's death. A reunion tour? Really? Without Michael, it's kind of like the Pips going on a reunion tour without Gladys Knight. Whatever. I'm sure they will sell out civic centers and Knights of Columbus halls all across the country.

Also in entertainment news, after Bono contracted the sniffles, the other three members of U2 announced a memorial tour and the release of a dedication album in spring of 2010.

iPhone Launches Swine Flu Application

Want to know if your friends or family have Swine flu? There's an app for that. Want to know which health clinic still has a supply of vaccine? There's an app for that.

Apple announced today that they are launching iSwine, the multi-purpose app that allows you to manage your life in an H1N1 world. iSwine allows hipsters and the wealthy alike to use the new iPhone body scanner to determine the presence of H1N1 from as far away as three meters. The body scan will also determine the person's identity through an x-ray of their jawbone leveraging another iPhone app, "iDentalDatabase". iSwine will then immediately send an instant message to everyone in their address book, calling circle, and Facebook friends list warning them to stay the hell away from "Captain Swine Flu".

The app can also locate clinics hoarding the vaccine and continually dial the phone number rapidly so others seeking vaccine information go right to voicemail. iSwine will then recommend the best vanilla latte and black turtleneck purveyors near the health clinic.

iSwine also provides live updates via iSwineMap on the spread of the virus through detecting the infection of other iPhone users. And if you are unlucky enough to get infected with H1N1, iSwine will immediately download five days of your favorite movies and music so you're fully entertained while quarantined.

Apple also announced plans to provide iPhone users with the ability to download the swine flu shot for just $0.99.

Why not? There's an app for everything else.