Look Who's Fucking Tiger Now...

    The shame....dirty, dirty shame...I am a filthy dirty Tiger whore! This is bad...very very bad. 

Two nights ago I decided to be a good wife, a fair wife...a wife willing to compromise. I said "sure Babe, let's play golf."...it was an extra day off for Chuck...he had to take the day off because we had a massive flood in our basement and our hot water heater was drowning...along with a few club chairs the kids use to hang out in...afloat across the basement. This had been caused by Sunday's massive monsoon we had here...you know, the one that brought the birthday bbq extravaganza indoors..into my shoebox of a house...with 12 kids running free, candy, pinatas, silly string...yes, quite a crazy...yet thoroughly enjoyable day...Grace had a blast for her 5th birthday, so the fact that my basement looked like the aftermath of the Titanic was not as bad......who the fuck am I trying to kid...it sucked hairy balls, but WTF could I do about it? It was what it was, The Hubby attached the green hose and led it out to the driveway..what else could we do but wait and let the festivities begin! so we did...I'd like to say it was easy breezy lemon squeezey and it all was smooth sailing, but..this is me...nothing goes off smoothly and it was an absolute clusterfuck of a few days leading up to the exact moment the first person arrived! Screaming, crying, declaring "I will never ever for never ever ever host another fucking party of any fucking kind cuz no one gives a flying fuck about anything, but me,and I can not be the only one who thinks this is important...I can not believe you think it's too fucking much to expect the bird cage to be cleaned for the first time in 3 months before people arrive and if you would have made better use of your time this entire week you knew this party was approaching instead of fucking Tiger we wouldn't be screaming at each other NOW!!!"....."Yes we would because you expect waaay too much...who the hell cares if the bird cage is cleaned? Bird shit doesn't even smell!"......"Expect too much? This is OUR daughter...expect too much? And bird shit absofuckinglutley does stink... you ass, especially when it is piled higher than her fucking perch decomposing for 3 months!"....."OOOH, you are gonna pull the "OUR" daughter card, like I don't fucking care about my daughter? I can't fucking stand when you do that...and I am not allowed to have any free time? I can't EVER do anything for myself? It's just all about you and your lists!".....""You mean the list I made of the things that need to get done for OUR daughter's birthday party? That list? And by the by..I have to point out that it is our daughter's b-day cuz you need to realize the importance  placed on this day..you treat everything like a fucking after thought and I am sick of us doing things half assed. I want today, despite the typhoon, to be perfect!"..."Oh, and I don't right? Fuck this..I'm going to pick up the balloons!"......Yes...one fantabulous day....with the chaos shrouded from our guests, fun had by all!

 Monday, however..not so fantabulous! Now the reality of the abyss of a basement having to be dealt with...Charlie goes to work for a couple of hours, cuz God forfrigginbid they deal a day without him... but he comes home by 11am and I am thinking wow...we can accomplish so much today, our extra day...he goes down to check the flood...re-aligns his little green hose...comes back into the house and picks up his "club" and starts to golf!..."That's it? you're done fixing the hot water heater?" "No, it's a waiting game"....."Super." ...waiting game, really? what ev! So pretty much the rest of the day I putter around the house cleaning up the mess of 12 kids, silly string on the blinds...left by the adults mind you...this is me... taking advantage of the time while glancing over my shoulder every couple of minutes to the man with the club and mumbling under my breath. I'm gonna fast forward quite a few hours and a few sarcastic battle of the spouses and cut to later that night...the hot water heater is thankfully back on and water is slowly heating back up and at this point all that can be done is done (well all that is gonna be done is done.)....and there he stands staring at the tv lining up his shot! I walk in to the room and sit down, exhausted from the last couple of days and perhaps the few bottles of beer I have consumed to make room in the fridge...and I say "What's good?"... "C'mon Babe...just play"....."Alright..give it to me".....

   And so it begins.....must have been the alcohol, made me a little loose and easy...I mean, how many affairs must begin with alcohol? I start swinging that club and I am doing good...real good..and I start to feel a little giddy about it! Especially because I am neck and neck with the pro...the one who has been playing this game since July..I am holding my own and doing pretty fucking good! Not only am I doing good I am getting a little cocky about it as well..."Babe, I got this" I say to him because I no longer require his guidance. I can see this gets to him a little..especially when I do better at the shot I line up on my own rather than listen to his advice... because I start thinking he is now trying to sabotoge me a bit, to take me down a notch because  I am winning rounds and feeling like a PGA floosy! And he looks at me with a half grin "Great Babe..you are doing great!" yeah I am!!! I can see how this is bothering him, I am supposed to be far far behind him cuz I'm a beginner, but there I stand one stroke ahead.....and I am convinced I found the formula to this game.... simply treat it like a game...I am getting so ensconced in this game I am turning to him and saying "Oh man, babe...you were robbed on that put!" and "Nice approach Babe" !!! He just kinda nods a thanks to me...men don't like when you take what they love and do it just as well as them...but I can't help it now...he pushed me into this threesome...he can't pull out now! And that Tiger...I had no clue what a seductive little fuck he really is...once you get past the initial thought of how boring golf is and look deep into his eyes, those Tiger eyes....you have no choice but to surrender to his advances and fuck the ever living shit outta him! And that is just what I did!...in every way possible....AND IT WAS GLORIOUS!!!! I finished on par, Which made me feel even better. Charlie, I think, may be harboring a few insecurities over my new found love of Tiger. But he has to come to terms with the fact he asked for it! He comes home from work the next day and as soon as we get the kids settled for bed I am whipping out the condoms, gosh! I mean controllers...and telling him to call Tiger..."let's go, let's get it on.."..."Babe, I'm tired..it was a long day at work.." "So what! Suck it up and whip it out and let's get started already!"...Now that I am on board..he is tired? I have used that excuse one too many times for you to turn it on me mister man!  You are just jealous!..... I am playing so well now that when I fuck up...I get honest to God pissed and I start yelling at the tv that I was robbed and I get really upset when my driver only goes 212 yards...but I also do this fist pump sort of thing when I do well...and with Tiger I am a loud lover.."WHOO HOO, YES.. DRIVE IT IN THAT HOLE... NICE EASY STROKES...LOOK AT THAT!!...LOOK AT HOW LONG THAT IS" the drive...people, the 248 yard drive I made! And now my man is looking  at me like are you serious? Unfortunately for us all I am serious...seriously whoring around with Tiger, I never thought it good be so good, so freeing!! Why did I not give in sooner? It no longer matters that I look like Barney Rubble when I play cuz I feel like Angelina and I am roaring like a tiger! Charlie keeps saying how he is just so tired and just "not into it tonight" and he really wants to go to bed, and I bring out some bottles of beer hoping to loosen him up now and bend him over that tee...so he looks at me, a little disgustingly...and says "make sure you tell everyone to look who's fucking Tiger now!".