Welcome to day 7 of Tiger Woods and his harem.  Talk about a feeding frenzy.  It's the only thing you read about.  And since Tiger happens to be an athlete, it seeps into where I live: The sports pages.

Let me begin today's proceedings by saying the only thing I don't understand is how someone can pay millions to carefully craft their image only to trash it.  The hordes of PR people, image people and spinmeisters employed by Tiger, INC. are staggering.  Yet all the king's horses and all the king's men are going to have a tall order putting this one back together.

I don't give a rat's ass who Tiger Woods sleeps with.  I don't care that he has betrayed the trust of his wife.  That's his issue.  It's not for me to judge nor for me to comment on.  It's not like the guy got caught doing blow off a hooker's stomach.  Or not paying his taxes.  Or getting drunk and wiping out a school bus full of first graders.  Those are crimes against humanity.  Playing loose with your driver, not so much.

It's just sex, people. It's not the fifties anymore. Get over yourselves and your artificial moral outrage.

When you are one of the richest and most powerful men on earth you are going to get laid.  All of these nasty Tiger stories are written by people who don't or can't get laid.  I mean, do you really care that Tiger Woods is having sex?  And with whom?  And don't for at least a second don't you say to yourself  "must be good to be the king."  Of course you do. 

For Tiger, things are far worse than what the press is writing or people are discussing around the company coffee urn.  He has to figure out a way to keep his marriage afloat. Tiger should have a conversation with his BFF Jim Nance who is shelling out $916,000 a year to his now ex-wife. Or his other BFF, Michael Jordan, whose divorce will cost him over $150 million dollars.  That's a drop in the bucket compared to what Tiger will have to pay his wife, Elin, if she leaves him.  And make no mistake, that train is about to pull out of the station.

Then there are the endorsements.  Outside of Trojan condoms, who is going to want Tiger to endorse their products?  In middle America and in the south, he's shot his image to hell.  His days of being a big time spokesperson for a lot of products is over.  And the ones he does endorse are sure to have their headquarters picketed by members of NOW or some wacky right wingers led by Sarah Palin. 

Next, we'll hear that Tiger and his wife are in marital counseling and that Tiger is Steve Phillips new roomie at the sex addiction clinic.  Tiger and Elin will go on Oprah and cry and suddenly he won't seem like such a bad guy anymore. He's already started spinning, writing on his web site that "he let his family down."   Don't you wish he would just say "Look, people, I am the best at what I do on the planet, I have more money than God and if I want to screw every woman I come in contact with, I will.  Let it go."  Of course, only Charles Barkley would do that.

So, we end at the beginning.  The moral of our story is even when you have it all, you don't.  You always want more.  And eventually, that lust for whatever it is you think you can have unravels the fabric of everything that you have worked for.   You show me a big, powerful, rich man without a dirty little secret.  There are few, if any out there.  It makes being a loser that much more satisfying.