Nobody's Favorite E-mail of the Week: Tiger Woods

Nobody's Favorite E-Mail of the week:

Okay, it's a girl thing.

I spent the whole day today, redecorating my bar...yes I have a basement bar, even though I don't drink. But since I've worked in plenty, I felt I could at least get that, "sit down and get stoned out of your mind and tell me all your secrets" feeling.

You MUST have atmosphere in a bar...sort of sexy, but also very confusing. How else do guys get girls so confused that they go home with them? You need...it to be very dark. Right guys? That way she won't notice that you're drooling. She might feel the spit, but she'll think that she spilled her drink.

I didn't have any money to spend on my bar, so I had to work with what I do have, which is a LOT of old German steins, a real steel drum, old Halloween candles, you know the kind that you buy in the Halloween stores and they have skulls holding candelabras in their heads...an old red feather thingy that I once upon a time think I used for over an hour...some costume masks, lots of mugs, even one that is from Al Hirt's bar in New Orleans,and eight oil lanterns.

If we have a hurricane, I'll be ready.

Oh, and a few fake flower lays from DisneyWorld, and a statue of the Crypt Keeper, and some big conk sea shells, and well..

The result looked like a shipload of pirates threw up in a whore house, and got in a fight with a bunch of Germans beer maids.

I'm waiting for Captain Jack...to start singing.

And THAT is why this is my favorite e-mail of the week. My liberal friend J.R., who sells bathroom facets for a living, between dreaming of his old sex life, sent me a set of pictures of Tiger Wood's home-- I imagine it's the one in Florida.

This is what you can do, if you work really, really, really, really, really, hard and never side with any politician on any issue whatsoever.

Not only is Tiger the quintessential classy person in life, he has the most perfectly decorated house...in the world. My god, it's to die for!

It is perfection. I mean it. You should see his bathroom.

Enough. It's Saturday night. Hopefully, you went to a REAL bar, and tomorrow you get a hole-in-one...whether you play golf or not.

As for Tiger, he deserves every single perfect sunset from his living room couch, and whatever he dreams of.

Oh, the Mae West red feather shoulder stole is draped around the mirror...a bit too much you think?

Naw.