My dear Elin Woods

I read about your husband, Tiger. I'm sorry for your troubles. I think you are lovely. How do you pronounce your name? Is it, L in, or L IN, or eeLin, or Elan? Just wondering, cause if this letter is at all effective, I'll need to know.

I'm older than you, by 20 years, but let's not consider age span a negative force regarding a potential relationship between you and the Logger. My folks were 20 years apart in age, and up until my Dad passed, they were married 51 years. Also the fact that I'm older, I feel, authorizes me to offer you a bit of not so stunning information.

All guys cheat. All guys. We all may not actually cross the line and follow through with any actual action, but, we all cheat. We cheat in our hearts and minds, and that's one hundred percent more cheating than what a solid, sincere wife would ever want or deserve from any man. So, assuming we all cheat, what you'd get from marrying me (once you are divorced from Tiger with $55 million in your personal account), is the exception. I will not cheat on you Elin, not in my heart, mind, or otherwise. So there.

This husband of yours-if you'll pardon any busting of his chops being an indirect insult to you having chosen him from the entire male population of the world-is a load.

I mean, please, he golfs for a living. Most wives put up with their husbands golfing-what-maybe a night or at the most two during the week, then some on the weekend? But your husband, he's at it constantly.

Sure he's being paid a ton to do it, but still, he hits a ball a bunch of times toward a cup set below the surface of a ridiculous sprawl of clear-cut land that should have been left full of trees, streams and rabbits, and he does it just about every day and he takes it very seriously. It's idiotic at the rate he does it, and if my golfing friends will excuse my directness, at most any other rate too.

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