O/T: With All The Other...........

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RonB wrote:

I can't understand what was wrong with what he had at home... One of the finest looking ladies on the planet if you ask me, and he's out tapping anything that comes along? What a dumbass.
--
Repeat after me:
"I am we Todd it. I am sofa king we Todd it."
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No matter how hot a woman is, somewhere there's some guy who thinks she's a bitch. Wood's wife 'looks' real pretty..... but that don't mean much. She could have 'issues'.
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Robatoy wrote:

True, of course. But damn! :-)
--
Any given amount of traffic flow, no matter how
sparse, will expand to fill all available lanes.
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On Fri, 11 Dec 2009 09:17:45 -0600, the infamous Steve Turner

She'd be alright with a breast reduction. Take off about 2/3, please! I'm a Confucian. He say "More than mouthful wasted."
--
Don't forget the 7 P's:
Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance
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"Robatoy" wrote
No matter how hot a woman is, somewhere there's some guy who thinks she's a bitch. Wood's wife 'looks' real pretty..... but that don't mean much. She could have 'issues'. ======================= Too pretty? Not kinky enough? Talks too much?
Or how about a crazy mother inlaw who has "medical emergencies" on a semi regular basis?
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On Fri, 11 Dec 2009 07:12:59 -0800 (PST), the infamous Robatoy

That's why I never married. Looks wear off, personalities come out which don't always remain matched after the two of you evolve, etc. I had one very tight girlfriend who I thought might be the one, but she turned into a raving bitch once we got her on the pill. Her hormones really kicked in and she was a different person. I watched my parents divorce (but remarried each other a year later.)
I knew lots of friends in high school who got married shortly after. Ten years later, _every_single_one_ had been divorced at least once. Even my sister, the stable one, didn't last quite twenty years.
That was enough proof for me.
I don't blame Tiger one bit.
--
Don't forget the 7 P's:
Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance
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If you have the slightest doubt, it is better not to marry. OTOH, I'm going on 44 years and very happy. Would I do it again with someone else? Definitely not because while there are many women I like a lot, I'd not want to marry any of them.
One woman in particular I spend a lot of time with both with and without my wife. She has been married once and has had a couple of other live in arrangements but living with her would ruin a good friendship.
Used to be 50% divorce rate but may be higher now.
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THE BIG JIM SAGAS
Big Jim is a pseudonym for one of the finest men who ever drew breath. Big Jim and his wife, Joan are the kind of people everyone would like to have as a neighbor. I am telling these tales about Big Jim out of my belief that they are too good to pass without remembering. This tale, one of two, was posted here one heck of a long time ago. Perhaps you'll enjoy it again. . . or for the first time. ----------------- Big Jims Romance
Big Jim was the type of neighbor that every person wants to have. He was the kind of fellow who would come to your house at 4:00 in the morning, if you needed help, would loan you any tool that he had in his shop, would go out with you to help cut firewood and would help you stack it when you got home. His wife and my wife were also best friends. . . with coffee in the mornings or shopping in the afternoon. On weekends, if Big Jim wasn't down at my house helping me do something, I could usually be found up at his house, returning the favor. After around fifteen years of being friends and neighbors, you get to know folks really well- you think!
Big Jim was 6 years older than I was, and was approaching his late 40's at the time. He had married Joan, his high school sweetheart, following his high school graduation and had enjoyed over 30 years of marriage. The marriage had produced a beautiful daughter, who had just graduated from high school herself. Joan and Big Jim had made a warm and welcome home on the second floor of their house for Joan's mother, who had lived with them for many, many years. Being a kind and good-hearted man, Big Jim thought of Joan's mother as an inseparable part of his own family. Big Jim's own mother still lived on a farm outside of town, and we were always driving out to spend an afternoon at her place. She was a very capable and typical farm woman: strong as any man and capable of handling herself in any situation.
My wife and I never observed any change in Big Jim, but the onset of middle age had apparently been taking its toll. Big Jim apparently thought he was slowing down a little in his love life at home, and I later heard that Joan had confided to my wife that Big Jim just wasn't the man had had been ten years earlier. Big Jim wasn't the kind of fellow who would give up anything easily, and apparently had decided that he could regenerate things a bit by having some extracurricular activity.
Working at a large office in town, Big Jim and one of the ladies at the office decided that they'd meet for a "few drinks" one Saturday afternoon. I honestly don't think that Big Jim had done anything like this in his 30+ years of marriage, but he and the "new sweetheart" decided that they'd have an affair that fateful Saturday afternoon.
The Saturday arrived on a beautiful Spring day, and Big Jim told Joan that he had to go into work that afternoon to clean up some paperwork- not at all unusual activity for him. Instead, he drove to the appointed motel, where he met "Suzy" in the bar. They had 3-4 drinks and then checked into a room. This was where Big Jim made the biggest mistake in his life!
Do you remember me mentioning earlier that Big Jim and Joan had a beautiful daughter, who had just graduated from high school? Well, Big Jim had overlooked the simple fact that his daughter had just started her new job. . . SHE WAS NOW THE 3:00p-11:00p ROOM CLERK AT THE SAME MOTEL WHERE BIG JIM HAD JUST CHECKED IN WITH SUSY.
Now, my friends, here is where the sad-but-true tale becomes exciting. For those of you who may be sensitive or deplore violence, just move on, since from here on, it gets ugly.
Big Jim and "Suzy" had just retired to the room when his daughter came on duty. The daughter looked over the new check-ins and saw that a person with her own father's name had checked into the motel about a half hour earlier. As a matter of fact, the person had used the same address as her father, had signed the register in the same handwriting as her father and had paid with a credit card with the same number as the one she had in her own purse! It seems that poor Big Jim had been drinking, and drinking too much to use common sense.
The daughter was very concerned, and even asked the outgoing room clerk if he remembered the arrival in question. He did, and described both Big Jim and his "wife." Since the daughter certainly had different ideas of her mother's description and was convinced that she only had one mother waiting for her at home, she became skeptical of her Dad's intentions in checking into the motel. To assuage that skepticism, she did what any evil, no good, rotten daughter would do: she called her mother at home and asked her, Where is Daddy?" When Daddy's itinerary he had left with her mother failed to anticipate his checking into the hotel, both mother and daughter came to the same unfortunate conclusion. . . and Hell was to soon be close at hand for my best friend.
The following was assembled as a series of fractured and fragmented tales told to both me and my wife on a number of different occasions over the weeks following that fateful assignation. Frequently, it was necessary for my good wife and me to compare our "notes" on the tales, since they were usually related to us with a great deal of crying, shouting or requiring an occasional bribe of Jack Daniels to spark the memory <grin>.
About an hour after checking in, Big Jim was "relaxing" in the room with Suzy when there was a knock on the door. Thinking that it was housekeeping, he approached the door with a towel wrapped around his waist and opened the door part way. There, standing in the hallway, was his daughter, his wife, his own mother and his mother-in-law. The four ladies then pushed the door the remainder of the way open and entered the room to discuss Big Jim's indiscretions and his future. There is a saying that, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," and I guess that on that fateful afternoon, Big Jim learned that applied to ALL the women in his life, and not just his wife.
The sweetheart, Suzy, sharing the room with Big Jim, ran out the patio door wearing nothing but a panicked expression, but grabbing her purse and clothes on the way out. She got in her car and drove away, totally naked, but unharmed- leaving poor Big Jim to try to explain to these four irate women what he had been doing at the motel. Whenever I hear the old joke; "Who are you going to believe- me or your lying eyes?", I think of poor Big Jim. Suzys escape was of no concern to the four women, since they had far bigger game on their minds.
The police were never called, but it was almost an hour before the four women in Big Jim's life paused long enough for him to even get dressed. Later, my wife told me some of the things Joan said had happened, such as Big Jim's own mother ripping away even his towel, so that, "He had nothing to hide behind," and the four women tossing him into the cold water shower to "wash the sin and filth away," . . . Frankly, I didn't even want to hear that, and the image still haunts my mind.
That evening, Joan called my wife to tell her what happened, and that she was throwing Big Jim out. Even as they talked, Big Jim arrived at my house, chuffing into my garage on his garden tractor and towing his trailer. Big Jim's eyes were puffed almost shut, he had a long scrape on his face and he generally looked like hell. The trailer was absolutely loaded with every power and hand tool that Big Jim could put in it; he wanted to know if it'd be OK to store his tools in my garage. We ended up making 5 more trips up to Big Jim's house that night with both of our tractors/trailers to clean out his closet and workshop of power tools, guns and golf clubs. All the time, the four women at Big Jim's home were outside and freely expressing their dissatisfaction with his actions of that afternoon. I was even verbally abused because, "I was his best friend and should have known what he was going to do." At my own home, my good wife of many years would deride poor Big Jim whenever we were unloading his worldly possessions into my garage.
For any of you who might be wondering, all this took place over 25 years ago. Following the incident, Big Jim did the appropriate amount of crying, begging and pleading, and by the following weekend, he had emptied my garage again and had moved himself and his tools back into his house. I'm happy to say that while the incident was never forgotten, the pain and anguish eventually diminished.
From the incident, there are at least a couple things that I learned that deserve to be shared with fellow husbands and readers of this essay:
1) If you plan on having extracurricular marital activity, consider portable tools, such as the Delta Contractor's saw and not a Unisaw. It is easier to move them if you get caught
2) Always remember where your daughter is working
--
Nonny

ELOQUIDIOT (n) A highly educated, sophisticated,
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Nonny wrote:

[...]
Obviously he didn't try the "But honey, it was only sex!" excuse.
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On Fri, 11 Dec 2009 09:08:28 -0600, Steve Turner

Ever see a car collection with more than one Ferrari?
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Steve Turner wrote:

She looks good but in my experience the better they look the harder they are to live with.
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Steve Turner wrote:

That eternal, unanswered, philosophical question: "Is it all really pink on the inside?"
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Don't know, but willing to do the research.
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Ed Pawlowski wrote:

That ready willingness is the topic under discussion ... in case you haven't noticed! <G>
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I couldn't agree more.
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I second that thought.
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"RonB"
Don't expect a Boo Hoo here. The guy knew he had a family, he knew he had obligations to fans, he knew he had millions of dollars in endorsement money at risk, and from what I understand he was raised understanding the value of honesty and morality. If his world caves in on him it is because he knocked the props out from under it one skirt at a time.
======================================= Ever know the minister's daughter or son? They turn out one of two ways. They either are devout religeous types or they morph onto a wild child. Tiger was raised and lived the goody two shoes life since infancy. So he fell off the wagon. It makes him human. It doesn't make him smart.
Again, the big hit is financial. If that doesn't make stay on the straight and narrow, nothing will. Is it moral to live a lie when your heart and soul isn't into it? I think a little honesty is good for the soul. But we can't expect any honesty on this matter. Too many lawyers, corporations and sacred cows at stake.
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Holy Crap!. I'll just go tell my grand-kids that if they work hard, become successful and make tons of money, its OK to screw around on your family.
Actually this reminds me of what some kids seem to be learning these days. "Don't worry Johnny, it isn't your fault. Nothing is you fault."
RonB
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eloquent>
Now you know why my kill file exists
Everybody gotta be someplace.
Lew
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wrote: [snipped a a whole bunch of good stuff for brevitiarazation purposes].

My reply to your post, Robert, was long and detailed...but I decided to just send the last paragraph...to wit:
Tiger Woods is a fraud. Plain and simple. What a selfish asshole. And now he's making sure that all those people who put him in all those tournaments, benefitting local economies, etc. are getting screwed too. Pondscum.
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