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Tiger's Holiday Poem
T'was the night of Thanksgiving and out of the house
Tiger Woods came a-flying, chased by his spouse.
She wielded a 9 iron and wasn't too merry
Cause a bimbo's phone number was in his blackberry.
He had been cheating on poor little Elin
And as each day went by, more whores came out squealing,
He'd been on Rhonda, on Debbie, on Margarite, on Susan, on Dorothy,
On Cheryl, on Denise, … TMZ has the story,
From the top of the world, to above the fold
Tiger's ever more sordid tale, it was told.
With hostesses, waitresses, he had lots of sex
When he wasn't with them, he sent them hot text.
He crashed his caddy, but didn't call On-Star,
Yet he played spank-me-daddy with a skanky old porn star.
He's been naughty, so with Santa he has not a chance,
'cept a big lump of coal like the lump in his pants.
But despite all his crying, begging and pleading,
Tiger's wife purchased a new house in Sweden.
And I heard her exclaim as she packed up the Esclade,
If you are gonna get laid, then I'm gonna get paid.
Now she's not pouting, but full of good cheer,
Cause her pre-nup made Christmas come early this year!
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"House music is the soundtrack to the more deviant, exciting, rebellious side of life." -Lawler
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