Sitting in Gazi’s Restaurant on First Street in Rock Falls, IL —
lunch break on drive back to Chicago for my next meeting. I know o
made the right choice (option was McDonalds or Hardees – yum!) when I
stepped inside and the place was packed with senior citizens — food
must be good where they eat! Booth behind two women and a man and
half my meal I was treated to discussion about the Tiger Woods car
accident. The man barely spoke — not so surprising, he was with two
women afterall — but each of the ladies had opposing views on whether
or not this was a public matter. The louder of the two finally said
“he’s a public figure so it’s a public matter.” No doubt she’s a fan
of this site. (Could hardly wait for them to clear my plate so I could
make this entry.) Try the tuna on wheat with a cup of coffee and tell
’em Issues Man sent you.
Sure, Tiger Woods should be afforded the same right to privacy for him and his family as any other normal American citizen. And that's the point, Tiger is the furthest thing from a normal citizen. He has endorsements from companies that span the globe, hawking everything from watches to clothing lines and taking in tens of millions for lending nothing more than his holding of a golf club. So when he goes 9-1-1, his public wants to know what is going on with him.
As for me — I don't wear the watch brand he professes to wear — can't afford it and don't like the gaudy look — nor do I use his brand of shaving equipment. And as for Nike clothes, shoes and golf balls — Nope, not a fan, thank you very much. So for the record, I am NOT among the throngs of people that want (or care) to know what happened with Tiger Woods in his Caddy on his own private property. But I have a theory. Do you want to hear it? Okay, cool.
Actually, it's a combination of two theories, one that says he ran out on his wife and she chased him out, and another that says drugs may have been involved and possible domestic violence. Because it is odd for him to be leaving the house at 2:20 AM and for the Misses to come running out with a golf club to break the windows to free Tiger. But here is what I'm thinking:
Tiger and his wife Elin had a horrible fight where Elin clawed his face and cut him up pretty good. So good (or bad, really), that he knew he couldn't be seen in public all beat up because there'd be no way to explain what happened. So they stagedthe car accident as a way to cover up the cuts and bruises to his face.
I know what you're thinking. And yes, I was up all night thinking this through. Now give the guy some space and watch as he slowly feeds us tidbits of information that are more damning than anything else. He's hired a high profile lawyer, but what he needs is good PR rep.
Sitting on NWA #7085 heading from Detroit to Chicago and I cringe each
time the flight attendant gets on the PA to remind us that this is "a
very full flight." Makes me crazy – as though ther are varying
degrees of a full flight. I am tempted to ask her the difference
between a very full flight and a full flight. They must thin their
passengers are a bunch of morons. And I'm not stupid – I have this
cool website, a lot of friends and so much free time, proven by my
texting this entry. See, I'm above moron.
Learning to manage my turkey intake on Thanksgiving has been a blessing for me in recent years. Turning 50 just several weeks ago and one thing is for sure — my body doesn't burn off calories like it did 20 years ago, or like it did just 5 years ago for that matter.
Stating the obvious, I'm sure, but like my teen-aged boys, I've had a feeling of invincibility for the past 25 years and that feeling has waned in recent months. (Okay, maybe not the same way teen-aged boys think they're invincible, but pretty close, just with more experience!) My favorite time of the year because all the great food everywhere you go, and I've had to behave: watch portion size, and hold back from tasting ALL the sweets brought out with the coffee.
Still so much to be thankful for, and that's the real reason I love this time of year as it has all of us focusing on what we're thankful for. And yes, when I stand straight up and look down, I can see my toes. Get the smirk off your face, just mean that my belly doesn't get in the way of me seeing my toes!
I knew there was something about Adam Lambert that bothered me during his run on AI, and know I've got it figured out: he's an idiot. All the fuss today makes me glad I didn't watch the American Music Awards last night. Oh I tuned in long enough to see J-Lo slip — what a graceful recovery. Didn't see it live but I did get to see Lambert's "slip" — what an over-the-top moron.
I get the whole "I'm out, look at me" bit, but he's got to give the whole double standard rant some rest. Saw his "heat of the moment" moment and that was more than a spontaneous move. It's hard to have any respect for him as he flat out lies about his shocking display. Totally staged.
What he did was disgusting, no less so than when Madonna kissed Mrs. K-Fed. Yes Adam, you shocked the television audience, so you achieved your goal. But you disappointed so many of us too. We were not tuned in and it has since been deleted off the DVR because I won't let my 11-year old watch that garbage performance. And as for your CD — my daughter won't know why but it simply won't be on our list this year, or at all. I was pulling for you dude but you all but sealed your fate with last night's trashy performance. Nicely done asshole.
No doubt that 47-year old Demi Moore is an amazing woman. She's a good actress, she's in great shape and she's drop-dead beautiful. So why would any moron photographer or magazine editor go with a photo-shopped photo like this? Take a look at the zoom-in photo below and you'll see — her legs look oddly thin, but the photo-shop artist (?) took off a bit too much of her left hip. And amazingly, the outfit fabric seems to be an inch or so from her skin — as though magically propped up. Idiots — just couldn't leave well enough alone. Not sure who to pity: Demi, the editor or the one responsible for the final piece who will probably lose his or her job.
West coast chillin’ in the Bay Area. The streets of downtown San Francisco bustle with energy — a mix of all sorts of people, including many that look to need some help.