In the short space of four months, we were treated to two cases of sociopathic, criminally reckless, and questionably heterosexual husbands in carefully crafted media charades of normal, devoted marriages with two women.
The similarities with the women stop there. One woman, Sandra Bullock, is an accomplished, Oscar-winning, top-shelf actress worth hundreds of millions. The other, Elin Nordegren, a "nanny" (do they even have that job today; it’s as archaic as a "manservant" or something), who accomplished zero with her life – except one, great, great thing: she got a sullen, self-absorbed, narcissistic, eerily robotic sociopath to marry her and get her preggers (jackpot!). An ET-esque man (if you can call him that) that the Swedish golddigger wouldn’t have given a second glance to had he been a sales manager or software engineer.
That it’s all about the Benjamins for a soulless and unscrupulous golddigger like Nordegren is born out by the fact that she’s still clinging to her filthy sewer stench ATM husband who spit on the sanctity of her and her children and who could have easily given her AIDS by his condom-less fucking of dozens of whores and pronstars – one of which was WEEKS after his own son was born.
Contrast that with the woman whose husband is the golddigger. Sandra Bollock's divorce papers are already in and her money protected by skilled money managers.
As for these two piece-of-shit men – the two devils that destroyed their wives' lives and could very well have given them AIDS or other STDs with their serial fucking of whores?
Well, one, the robotic-talking Jessie James is being rightly pilloried and savaged in the popular press. The other, the robotic Tiger Woods, after a bizarre attempt to filter and control even the brutalization of his wife and family, and after a ham-fisted and entirely unbelievable staged "apology," will soon be revered again in whispered awe by the sick fucks attending Augusta. No wonder most golfers are Republican. You could trot out Hitler on the course and, if he had a couple lucrative sponsorship deals and goosed the ratings of the agonizingly boring "sport," they’d be cheering him on (within the loudness guidelines established by Augusta National and the rules committee, of course)
You see, in America, it’s all about the Benjamins. Oooo, look! There’s Tiger – he’s teeing up. Silence!