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2004-05-07 | 6:15 a.m.

I think that Tiger Woods is stalking me. Seriously. I see him wherever I go. He follows me everywhere and stares at me from every billboard and sign urging me to buy tennis shoes or batteries or beef jerky. At first I just thought he would go away but I started having my doubts when he mysteriously showed up in my bedroom one night, demanding that I "follow my own path" or some other implausible thing by switching to another insurance company. It was very unnerving. Do you believe in an afterlife? Because I just know that he's going to be my roommate and be mad at me for all eternity because I didn't buy his special kind of shoe polish or whatever. And we won't get along very well. He will be very fastidious and he will probably need a lot of fashion advice, and there isn't any golf in heaven and so he will go insane and I will have to make sure he takes his medication on time every day and that he doesn't try to eat an iron or stick his head in the dryer. Sometimes I wish that Tiger Woods would just die because my life would be a lot more simple if he would.

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