Tiger missing one last luxury (from TSN)

You might think after purchasing his $38 million oceanfront estate in Florida, Tiger Woods now officially has everything he could possibly ever need.

Wrong. I just thought of one more.

Me.

Tiger's new pad comes with a beach house and two guesthouses.

If a place ever screamed for a Kato Kaelin, this was it.

And Tiger, I don't want to be your Yoko, but I could be your Kato.

Just think what I could do for you Woody!

(Woody, apparently, is Tiger's nickname for himself. He muttered it twice after errant tee-shots at the Buick this past weekend. As in, "C'mon Woody!" This amuses me more than you will ever know. I came up with 27 different lines, all of which I can only use on HBO.)

Need someone to take Privacy, your 155-foot yacht, out for a spin while you're on the road, just to keep her running smooth?

I'm your guy!

And when the paparazzi get too close, I'll get up off the deck, put down my martini, and moon 'em.

Which will be relatively, simple, since I will be sunbathing nude.

Elin needs a massage? I'm there. Better yet, Elin needs a body to practise on for her masseuse course (She is Swedish...It's the equivalent of mandatory military service for them, isn't it?)

I'm there!

"Ohhh...That's gooooood...Ellie-Honey...but...a little less oil on the right buttock...you know my skin breaks out!"

Need someone to mow the 10 acres your estate lies on, stretching from the Atlantic Ocean all the way to the Intra-Coastal Waterway? I'm the guy...to hire someone to take care of that.

And when your new neighbor Celine Dion drops by? I know, I know. I'll have the Rottweilers ready.

Look Woody (That gets me every time), I'm perfect for this gig. I was born to be a Kato. I'll pick up Taco Bell for you. I'll play you at Madden. I'll make fun of Mickelson's body.

Heck, I'll even polish the Claret Jug. (Then chug out of it when my buddies drop by for poker night).

Granted, I'm not the typical houseboy, you know...with three kids and all. But hey, you did marry a nanny! She needs something to do while you're jetting around the planet winning Johnnie Walker Classics.

"Daddy, can Elin give me a bath again tonight, pleeeaaaaase!"

Plus, I'm not exactly a stranger. When I interviewed you last year after you won The British, you called me "Homeslice" during our post-interview banter.

Sure, the lingo made me feel like I was talking to Rerun on "What's Happening!"

But whatever. The point is, we're tight.

And that's key. Because you'll need new peeps. At Isleworth, your former home near Orlando, you had your best buddy Mark O'Meara, plus Shaq and Griffey and the boys.

Who are you going hang with in West Palm Beach? Ted Kennedy?

West Palm is Viagraville. Guys use golf carts...to get to the bathroom. I believe Old Tom Morris has a place there. Joan Rivers is Maxim material in West Palm.

Now don't get me wrong, Tiger. This isn't some man-crush. I don't want to be your fishin' buddy in a, you know, Brokeback Mountain kind of way. (Which reminds me, this is always good for a laugh: Tell your Grampa, or maybe your Dad if he's not really up on things, that there's a great new western out he has to see: a real Eastwood-type, with bad-guys and shoot-em-ups. Then send him to Brokeback Mountain. Good times!)

I just figured you could really use a hand.

C'mon Woody! Nothing is handier than a houseboy. Just look at how well things worked out for Kato and O...

Oh crap...forget I said that.