Welcome back, everyone. Hope both of you had a great Thanksgiving. I can’t speak for the rest of The Guys, but as much as I enjoyed a little time to relax, I missed being able to write–so much so that my fingers are rusty. I mean that metaphorically, of course.
No one’s really talking about it at the moment, but I hear tell that Tiger Woods, who you may know is a professional golfer, and pretty good, at that, got in a car accident outside his home while we were gone. What we do know is that it happened in the wee hours of the night, when nothing but arrests and pregnancies happen. We know that Woods was leaving his house when he hit a fire hydrant, which probably made an awesome geyser like you see in movie car chases. We know he hit a tree head on. We know that at some point the driver’s side window was broken.
We know that this isn’t the first time Tiger’s drive has gone off course and gotten him in a pickle. What? No more golf jokes? Fine. Continue reading The McBournie Minute: Don’t let Tiger Woods drive the golf cart
You know, I’ve received a few of these letters recently, and not just from women. Thanks to feminism, more women are working hard in Hollywood to pass their neuroses onto men.