Tiger's Leaked Statement!

Well, B&E readers, if you're anything like me, you're pretty excited for Tiger Woods' first public statement later today. Have I got a treat for you! It's a leaked version of his statement! Who leaked it? I leaked it! How did I get my hands on it? It was never in my hands! It went right from my head to B&E!

So without further ado, here it is, Tiger Woods' leaked statement!

Hi. I'm Tiger Woods. I'm the best golfer of all-time. Arnold Palmer is a pussy. Tom Watson is a total fruitcake. And what is Lee Trevino, anyway? A Latino or Italian? Whatever. And don't even get me started on Phil Mickelson, that left-handed prick. Those guys can't golf. I golf. I'm a golfer. Those guys are just divots in the fairway of my life.

Anyway, I'm Tiger Fucking Woods. And not only do I golf, but I also make a lot of money. A lot. Tons of cash. Seriously. It's a lot of money. Dude, I have a deal with Chevron. It's a fucking oil company. They've got a lot of money too, and some of their money is going right to me. People say that Chevron pollutes and supports military dictatorships in Burma, but fuck those hippies. They're just jealous.

And they're not just jealous because I'm almost as rich as that chick who wrote those weird wizard books.

They're also jealous because I get women. Lots of women. One of them was my wife. I totally got her. Knocked her up too. She's Swedish. Which is hot. I mean, the country is cold but the chicks are hot.

But I didn't stop with her, just because I'm married. Oh, no. There are a lot of really hot women out there. A lot! And because I'm famous and gifted and richer than Dick Cheney, tons of those women totally throw themselves at me. And look, I don't want to be rude. If these chicks want to bang me, it's only right to give them the ride of their lives.

Oh, hell, you all know I'm not just banging these broads because I don't want to be rude. I like women. I really like women. Lots of women.

And I like watching other dudes with women. Especially that guy from Bones. I'd really like to see that guy with some women. Mm... Bones...

Anyway, I got caught. Boy, did I get caught. I was totally nailed. And not in the same way that I was nailing all those broads. That would've been a lot cooler, let me tell you. But no, that's not what I mean at all. I was totally busted.

What can I say? I'm the best golfer ever, rich as Nazis, and can get pretty much any woman I want. Who wouldn't take advantage of that?

So back off, media. Give me some goddamned privacy. Let me get on with my life - and get off with that hot chick over there.

I'm Tiger Fucking Woods.

It's a bold statement from Tiger Woods. He's got real moxie, this guy. Go get 'em, Tiger.

Don't Fuck With Robin Hood, Sheriff of Bankerham

Yesterday, a friend in the UK posted a link to her Facebook page for a project she's involved with: The Robin Hood Tax. Go check it out. There's a nice little video featuring Bill Nighy as a douchey banker trying to explain why this tax is a bad idea. (It's not a bad idea, by the way.)

The short of it is that by taxing banks 0.05% on non-consumer speculative trading, billions of dollars could be raised for, well, good things for real people.

So this project launches yesterday and people can vote on whether or not they think it's a good idea. The broad assumption from the people involved is that most regular people will agree with the sentiments. Supporters invite their friends and they outnumber the people who think it's a bad idea.

Well, within hours, people who thought it was a bad idea were voting at the rate of six votes per second. The Robin Hood Tax people thought something was a little strange with this scenario, so they shut down the site for a while to investigate.

This morning, the computer team had traced the IP address for the rapid voter back to... shocker of all shockers... a Goldman Sachs office in London. Goldman Sachs says it's "investigating the matter fully."

My UK friend assures me that the Robin Hood Tax movement will be making its way to the United States before too long. I like simple, good, easy-to-understand ideas. Well done, coalition-of-UK-organizations.

Dude, You're Totally Hot

Hello, hello, B&E readers! It's that time of year again! That's right! It's the US Open Tennis in Flushing Meadows Corona Park! And we all know what that means! Regular 7 train passengers can smell the fear emanating off the rich preppies who decided to slum it with the locals!

Alas, there are still the freaky locals, too. And a couple of nights ago, I was getting a late-ish (and not terribly full) 7 train home. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a body lifted up toward the ceiling. When I looked over, it was just the man sitting a couple of seats away from me doing a chin up on the handrail above our heads.

He was quite the beefcake in his tight t-shirt and jeans, a muscly specimen of lactic acid and creatine.

I went back to my reading material, and he did another chin-up. When I looked over at him this time, I noticed that after sitting back down, he was checking out how his muscles looked in the window reflection across the car from him. He was doing a couple of flexes to check out his triceps.

This pattern went on during the long underwater passage between Grand Central and Vernon-Jackson, the first stop in Queens. That's when he got off the train.

But I'd never seen someone like this beefcake before. He was obviously very self-conscious about his appearance, wanting his muscles to look just so. But he also very obviously didn't give a shit about looking like a total douche on the 7 train.

Our Stupid Senate

I kinda want to just ignore these stupid New York Senators, but they're behaving so stupidly that I need to call them stupid.

Governor Paterson is making them come into the stupid chamber by calling special (and stupid) sessions, which require their stupid presence.

Yesterday, the stupid Democratic Senators sneaked through a back door and locked themselves in the chamber. They weren't even stupidly creating a stupid metaphor to vote on the gay marriage bill. The stupid Republican Senators couldn't get in for a while, and once they did, the stupid parties held dueling sessions, neither of which weren't stupid.

So then today, the stupids stupided the stupidheads and stupidly stupided the stupids. As if that weren't stupid enough, they stupided the stupid stupids. And before long, stupid was as stupid does, and the stupids left the stupid, having stupidly stupided stupid. All for the sake of stupid.

Fucking stupid.

Things Are Different in Europe, But...

People are complex and multidimensional. Relationships between complex, multidimensional individuals can be messy. And there are certain cultural mores in Europe that seem surprising to our Puritanical American sensibility (some of you may remember Francois Mitterand's wife and mistress mourning together over his grave in France).

Still, even with all of these things in mind, I suspect that Italian Premier Silvio Berlusconi is a gaping asshole.

Live Blog - The Bachelor - After the Rose Ceremony!

I finished up this week's episode of 24 and turned over to The Bachelor. In my defense, the missus was coming home and asked me to.

In the finale, Jason chose Melissa, and then came out for the post-finale and told the host that he wanted to dump her and get reacquainted with the woman he dumped in the finale! He wants to be with Molly!

If you think that's not worth live-blogging about, you don't know good television.

He's doing it right now! There's no live audience or anything, but he's dumping her on national television in front of Chris Harrison, the host! It's a public dumping!

Oh, and Melissa's not happy. Imagine that. Oh, yeah, she's freaking out. She's pissed he doesn't want to try. Melissa's so angry that Melissa is speaking of Melissa in the third person. "Melissa gets the ring on her finger, but you won't fight for Melissa!"

Damn! She called him a bastard! And I'm not sure she's wrong. This is brutal, and I think she might be right: he is a bastard.

She just gave the ring back. Now, if he's dumping her (and on national television), doesn't she get to keep and sell the ring? I mean, hell. There was something like 170 diamonds on that thing. Keep the ring, woman! Sell the shit out if it!

And the missus agrees: he's a bastard. Oh, poor single dad, you're such a good father who was horribly heart-broken by your ex-wife, and you have the sympathy of everyone in the country. Well, you're losing it all right now, my friend.

I wonder if they sat there in silence during the commercial break. Boy, that must've been awkward.

Jason hates himself, but he's sticking to his guns. The host is finally excusing himself from this god-awful awkwardness, telling Melissa that there's a limo waiting for her (so that's nice), and she told him (Jason, not Chris) to fuck off but in language appropriate for ABC.

Jason's pained. I'm laughing at his pain. Poor bastard.

Melissa's crying in the limo, naturally. She hurts. And she's awfully cynical for a 25-year-old. OK, now she's boring me. She's accepting that there's a lesson even if she can't see it. Look, woman. There's no lesson. Jason's a douchebag and he just fucked you over royally on national television. Ain't no lesson there.

And Chris takes his awkward spot on stage next to Jason again. He's crying. Jason's crying, not Chris. I'm sorry, but he's a total douche. Jason, not Chris. And a little defensive. Poor Chris has to try to sound upbeat as he cuts to commercial: Molly's coming out, right after this! This is probably hardest on him. Chris, not Jason.

Commercials. Jim Perdue was wearing hen slippers.

Molly's about to come back out. Without Jason. She's having her seemingly normal rejectee interview with Chris, as if Jason's not about to ask her back. Clips of "I love you" talk from Molly. She looks a little horrified to be reliving this nonsense.

So now she's gotta go through all that again with Host Chris. She's admitted that she still has feelings for him. Jason, not Chris. Chris is baiting her: You're still in love with him, aren't you? This is just mean.

The show is working on the missus. She likes Molly a lot more than she ever has. Chris is baiting like hell: Have you thought about what if he said he made a mistake? Oh, she's going to be a mess when Jason comes back out. Right after the break!

All the commercials are targeted toward women. I shouldn't be watching this. Well, maybe the waffle breakfast is targeted to people like me.

Molly's about to be joined by the douchebag. She's asking him questions. "When did you know?" that she wasn't the one. They're really milking this. It's getting boring to me; and it must be getting boring to read about.

Now he's telling her. She's confused. She can't believe what she's hearing. She thinks she's being punk'd or something. It's starting to hit her now. She's speechless. Her response is not fake. All she can muster is, "But what about Melissa?" Jason's just admitted that he's in love with Molly. She still doesn't know what to say. She can't say anything...

AND CHRIS CUTS TO COMMERCIAL! It's like the silence was becoming bad television, and he had to cut away.

How does Chris end up in the middle of this drama and awkwardness? Oh, right. He's the host.

And we're back, waiting for Molly's response. Even after a break, she doesn't know what to say. She's confused and wants to talk, but she's also admitted to having the same feelings, and blah blah blah. Of COURSE they're going to give it another shot.

Hm... If they're serious, maybe they should give it a shot... oh, I don't know... off camera?

In the meantime, they're kissing on camera.

Chris: "Guys! America's watching this!"

As if it wasn't before, this is really fucking stupid now. Jason's douchey. There's just no way around it. So when this doesn't work out, he'll really be the biggest douche on the planet.

Chris just said, "It's been an historic journey." You pronounce the H in history, Chris. It's "a historic journey," you pretentious twit. An historic journey? Puh-lease.

I Feel Terrible For You. Terrible.

The venerable New York Times has a story today that's got my boxer-briefs in a twist. It's about how bonus cuts hurt those beyond Wall Street.

I was naively expecting to read a little something about how, perhaps, nonprofit organizations, particularly in places like New York City, will see their individual giving reduced by enormous amounts this year. People who work in finance will often balance those giant bonuses with the tax breaks that accompany donations to nonprofits. Perhaps in turn, those donations aren't trickling down to the soup kitchens that feed so many homeless people.

Not so much.

Instead, it's about people who make a lot of money in cities other than New York who are used to getting bonuses larger than most salaries. This year, the poor bastards will have to make do with bonuses of $25,000 instead. The horror! THE HORROR!

Bonuses are rewards for a job particularly well done, I thought. If it's expected money at the end of the year, like it's some sort of regular thing, the company should really be paying it out as part of your salary.

Even if his bonus isn't as irresponsible as the millions doled out by insolvent international banking conglomerates, I find it very hard to empathize with some dude because he'll have to buy a cheaper new car this year, especially when he also says that the bonus money goes to "lifestyle maintenance" and not "frivolity."

My friend, your lifestyle maintenance is frivolity. It's very hard to care about your "plight" when so many people have real problems.

Mezzanine Reserved Row D Is Ideal for Rain Delays

Hey, Mets fans (a.k.a. B&E readers)! The Boys of Shea Stadium are playing like a real team again. They've even won five in a row. I hesitate to say it was firing Willie that got the Mets going, but maybe Jerry Manuel scares the players into doing better.

Last night was another victory, one that featured a half-hour rain delay. My mini-ticket plan is in the mezzanine reserved area about two rows deep under the upper deck overhang. So when it began pissing down rain, we had the perfect seats to enjoy the downpour. It was really satisfying. It's funny the simple things that can make you happy. The heavy rains made me very happy.

Overall, it was a short rain delay, and when the players came back to finish the game, the Mets held on to win. A great evening at Shea, complete with Carvel ice cream.

The Douchebag Report:
Welcome to a new Mets game feature! At most baseball games, one ends up sitting next to a douchebag or two. And we Mets fans are not only no exception, they nearly define the douchebag fan! So why not call them out?

Big douchebags sitting behind us. I didn't hear any gay slurs, but they did spend a good deal of time commenting on how disgusting some of the lady Mets fans looked, and the only time the fucking idiots stopped talking was when a more attractive lady Mets fan sauntered by. And their baseball-related comedic banter wasn't remotely funny. Four out of a possible five douchebags.

No time for a hottie this morning, non-baseball fans.