Tiger Woods and Nike caused a great deal of controversy yesterday with a new commercial which features Tiger awkwardly staring into the camera as the voice of his dead father Earl Woods berates him from beyond the grave.

Many are outraged at Tiger for exploiting his dead father to get forgiveness from the consumer masses. I however do not blame Tiger for the ad, but am instead furious at Nike. This commercial would have been a million times better if they would of had the audio from Tiger’s voicemail to that whore, were he begs her to take her name of her voicemail playing, while he makes that stupid face.

Luckily for the marketing whiz kids at Nike someone on the Internet had the savvy to replace their ineffective audio with the Tiger Wood’s voicemail. See for yourself how great this Nike commercial is now below.

Well it took one whole day, but finally someone created a slow jam out of Tiger Woods voicemail to his mistress (one of many apparently) Jamiee Grubbs.

I must say it was worth the wait, this song is glorious! I am going to play it tonight while I make love to my many wives. Unlike Tiger I am a moral man and stay faithful to all 16 of my wives. I guess some of us are just born with a stronger moral character. Praise be to Allah!

Anyway turn down the lights, light some candles, and listen to the Tiger Woods Slow Jam Remix.

One of Tiger Woods “alleged” mistresses, Jamiee Grubbs, has released some texts and a voicemail she says are from Tiger. Here are the texts Woods allegedly sent to Grubbs,

“I will wear you out…when was the last time you got (bleeped)?”
*Hint the bleeped part is not “your pilates on”

“Send me something very naughty…Go to the bathroom and take (a picture).”
*The word “naughty” is open to interpretation. It is possible Tiger wanted her to take a picture of herself killing a cat or taking a dump.

If these texts weren’t damning enough for poor Tiger, the whore… I mean “mistress” also released a voicemail he left her warning her that his wife had gone through his phone, and begging her to take her name off her voicemail. Here is that voicemail…

Later in the evening Jaimee received a call from a blocked number which of course she answered. Jaimee claims the caller did not identify herself but said, “You know who this is because you’re f**king my husband.”

Jaimee responded, “that narrows it down to about 20 people could you be more specific?” (maybe she didn’t say that, but I bet she was thinking it)

The video above is a recording of Lindsay Lohan’s voicemail. Apparently her password was 1 – 2 – 3 – 4. I’m pretty impressed that she was able to remember that many digits. I’m going to guess that her new password is either 1 – 1 – 1 – 1 or 6 – 9 – 6 – 9.

As to be expected almost all of Lindsay’s voicemails are from drunks, freaks, and drunk freaks. If anyone has Lindsay’s new cell number hit me up. I have a pretty deep voice, so I can do a mean Samantha Ronson impression. I’ll probably be able to get her to scissor with me over the phone.

For the first time in over thirty years, Pat O’Brien managed to pick up a phone, dial the number of a female colleague and leave a clean, inoffensive message. The achievement comes several months after the 60 year-old O’Brien completed his second stint in rehab.

For O’Brien, the compulsive desire to drink and do drugs was difficult to overcome, but it was nothing compared to the primal impulse he acted on every time he heard a female voice asking him to leave a message.

“How any man is able to restrain themselves from saying things like ‘I want to know what your cunt tastes like’ or ‘You’re gonna get my mustache in your ass tonight’ is beyond me,” said O’Brien in a prepared statement following the message. “But I now realize that I must learn to restrain these natural impulses if I am to remain a somewhat respected member of society.”

The challenge of leaving the inoffensive message was even more daunting due to the fact that it was left on the cell phone of O’Brien’s super-hot 22 year-old assistant Krystal Storm, but in the end O’Brien prevailed by simply stating, “Hi Krystal, it’s Pat… call me when you get this.”

After hanging up the phone, O’Brien proceeded to let loose a string of unprintable sexual demands, many of which are physically impossible, but for the first time ever, none of them made their way onto Storm’s voicemail.

“It’s like I always say, what doesn’t kill you can only make you stronger,” said O’Brien. “Or, like I always used to say to my assistants, if it won’t kill you, why not shove it into your pussy?”