unedited Transcript of what Tiger Woods would have said had Elin Nordegren, Accenture & Nike not surgically removed his balls over the Christmas Holiday.

First off, I am Tiger Woods motherfucker. I have more money than Christ. Christ was a broke-ass Hebrew living under Roman Occupation two-thousand years ago who couldn’t even afford to hire the prostitutes he was hanging around with. Rest assured if that was me, I woulda had those Semitic strumpets peapoppin like pros as I rendered unto Sleazer, if ya catch my drift. Secondly, there are two things I love doing: putting the fucking balls in the holes on the golf course, and putting my fucking dick in your holes in the champagne room. I like skeezy ass blond bitches who wouldn’t give my goofy Caublasian ass the time of day if I wasn’t the best golfer, the #1 sports star of all time, fuck, in the goddamn world. I can do whatever the fuck I want. The PGA needs me more than I need them. I don’t need the sponsors’ filthy money wrung out of lotto-ticket buying American scum, who can’t be the next Tiger fucking Woods because their dad wasn’t a belligerent psycho who glued a fucking golf club to their chubby little paws.

Keep me off the fucking pedestal. Don’t Lionize me. In fact, let’s launch a new term into the lexicon: Tigerize me. Respect me and give me space. Watch me destroy competitors and then get outta my way as I run thru floozies like a Tiger who just lapped up an XL helping of Tiger Penis Soup, or else I will rend you asunder with my claws. And by Klaws I mean hired bodyguards trained in Krav MaGa.

I have more money than Christ. Do I deserve it? Fuck you. Does any rich asshole in this corrupt country deserve shit? This shit ain’t any different from fucking Feudalism, only the nobles hide behind the veil of get-rich-quick schemes and trite tales of bootstrap determination. I was the right dude at the right time with the right set of circumstances and the right physical & mental make-up to do this. And I don’t intend on letting my predilection for filthy poontang get in the way of that. So from now on, here’s how it’s gonna be.

I’m gonna show up to tour events with an entourage of no less than 9 skeezy ass hos. I will fucking plow my Escalade right on to the fucking green, hop out, and have my clubs handed to me one by one by scantily-clad strippers. I will wear a shirt emblazoned with a picture of me assfucking Queen Elizabeth II on the front, and a fucking tiger devouring a bald eagle on the back below the catchy slogan “Fuck You” in hot pink Comic Sans. I will be sponsored by Harley-Davidson, Lucky Strikes, Absolut, Red Bull, Vice, Hustler, Maxim, American Apparel, OPEC, Martha Stewart, and whoever else doesn’t give a fuck. I will be mesmerizing. There will be a digital cable channel dedicated to me, which will air hardcore anal porn when I am not playing or raising hell.

What about my kids, you ask? Well, they already had an uphill slog anyway. This might give them a fair shake, seeing that their dad is a human being, not a bland avatar of corporate ideals. And the rampant misogyny? What can I say, I love pussy, and this fucked up culture has churned out a great number of willing sluts of both sexes who already saturate the prime-time programming on most channels kids watch. Maybe my cartoonish antics will expose the hollow numbness pervading this culture of fake tits and empty heads. I’m just giving these skanky opportunists what they want: my wad.

thx 2 bill simmons for inspiring this piece