Tiger…Tiger…Tiger

This is my last post about Tiger…I promise. It’s just that his antics get more bizarre every day and the limericks just flow forth (you can find more limericks about Tiger over at my golf limerick site). It will be real interesting to see how the fans treat him when he plays again. Some writers take issue with the amount of coverage this story is generating but it’s not unusual. People are intrigued when a famous figure is felled by a women…or two…or three…or four…okay nine! (at last count).  The sad part is, it was all so avoidable.

On the course, he’s in total command
But at night he’s a slave to his gland.
Instead of a thrust
To fulfill his lust,
He could have just lent it a hand.

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