It's the new, pensive, mature, worldly, contrite Tiger Woods.
It's the Tiger Woods who allowed Nike to figuratively exhume his dead father for a television commercial for a company that sells over-priced sneakers made in sweatshops by Chinese children who work 14 hours a day rather than going to school -- the ghoulish, fatherly voice-over gently, though firmly chiding Tiger for his wrongs.
So, now that he's finished disgracing his living family, Tiger now shifts gears to shit upon his deceased family.
It was done in the name of earning a buck, so I guess that makes it all right.
Maybe for the next "new Tiger ad", Tiger Woods will be draped with an American flag while carrying a dead soldier across a battle field. That'd make a good American Express commercial. Or, better yet, Bawlz energy drink.
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I hope that, one day, after Tiger Woods has lived a long, fulfilling life, that he dies a non-violent death. And once dead, I hope that he is taxidermied; posed holding his golf club as he does after making a great drive.
And I hope that Tiger Woods' taxidermied corpse passes from collector, to junkman, to novelty shit shop, and that he ultimately ends up standing in the corner of a tavern in Possum's Pouch, Missouri, standing next to a jukebox that plays nothing but Slim Whitman and Boxcar Willie.
And I hope that the name Tiger Woods is long forgotten by then, and that people hang their jean jackets with the sleeves cut off on his golf club, and tweak Tiger's nose after making a good throw in a game of drunken darts.
Most of all, I hope the roguish taxidermist replaces Tiger's eyes with Nike golf balls with the Swooshes facing outward.
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See the grave-robbing grub in action: