03/18/2010 05:12 am ET Updated Dec 06, 2017

An Open Letter to Tiger Woods

Dear Tiger,

I see the number of mistresses you've had is now 14 and counting. It's one thing to cheat on your wife, but cheating on 13 mistresses, have you no decency, sir?!

Did you really think you wouldn't be caught? Fourteen times? News flash: One of the big reasons women want to sleep with you is so they can tell people they're sleeping with Tiger Woods. Don't you have anybody advising you? Jesus, even your caddy should know that!

So the question is: now what do you do?

Please don't play the "Sex Addict" card. Don't claim it's a disease and you have no control. Has anyone noticed that ugly guys never have this disease? The only tragic victims are good looking married celebrities with money. David Duchovny is in rehab with this serious problem. Of course it's not serious enough to keep him from filming Californication where his character does nothing but fuck his brains out. Oh, right. That's for his "art." I forgot.

The point is, Tiger, the public is no longer buying it. I mean, Steve Phillips, public dimwit, used that claim. If you want to be honest, say you're a "Marriage Addict." Say you have this uncontrollable need to be married. That we could believe. No one as successful as you with as many smoking hot women throwing themselves at you would be stupid enough to get married unless it was something you couldn't control. There must be some "Elizabeth Taylor" or "Mickey Rooney" clinic you can check yourself into.
It looks like your wife is going to file for divorce. Even though you told a friend you were going to go out to Zales and buy her a Kobe diamond ring, which you eloquently defined as a "house on a finger," she still seems determined to leave. By the way, idiot, who buys priceless jewelry at Zales for Christsakes? Has anyone in your posse ever heard of Tiffany's? But I digress. Even your passionate pleas that "She meant nothing to me. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or her. Or the other ones yet to be revealed" have fallen on deaf ears. And a number of sponsors have dropped you as their spokesman. You may pick up some others but I doubt it. Certainly not Cadillac. You go five miles an hour, hit two objects, and wind up unconscious? That can't be good for selling cars.

"Marriage Addiction." That's the ticket, Tiger. And next time be smart. Get some help. Get a trusted adviser. I won't always be there for you. And don't get just anybody. You want the best. You need the best.

Give Derek Jeter a call.

With best wishes for the holidays,

Ken Levine

Read more from Ken here.