Confessions of a mad woman...

The following story is being posted by popular request (not my own). This really means I am posting this so that you, Internet Metapeople, can join in the fun and laugh at my expense.

You know all the recent stories about Tiger Woods in the news? Well, unless you’ve been living in a hole, you know that he has been accused of being more or less a man-whore. His marriage is most likely over, and for awhile there, it seemed like a new sexual liaison (or two or eight) was emerging other day for weeks.

And – for the record – I KNOW who Tiger Woods is. He is the golfer that has won every coveted golfing whatever for the past decade. Or two. I’m not a golfing fanatic. But I know who Tiger Woods is.

See? Tiger.

But for whatever reason when all the stories were breaking after Thanksgiving, I kept getting Tiger confused with Jared-the-Subway-Guy.

Hi! I'm Jared.

Why? I dunno. Again: I KNOW who both Tiger Woods AND Jared-the-Subway-Guy are.

And, yet, whenever a new story about Tiger emerged, the mental image of Jared was conjured up in my brain. And I felt bad! Because poor Jared lost all that weight eating Subway sandwiches and found love only to become a man-whore and blow it all.

Except Jared didn’t cheat on his wife. Tiger did. And I know that.

And, yet? I still find myself periodically confused.