O.K., If everybody could just take a seat. Uh, John? John Daly, if you could put the dessert cart down, that'd be great.
Now, you know me—Dan Scruggs, PGA Tour pro, just like all a you. I called y'all here tonight 'cuz ever since I finished behind that broad, Annika Sorenstam, my life has been 'bout as much fun as shavin' with No. 2 sandpaper.
Fans throwin' bras at me as I come onto the greens. Feminine hygiene products in my locker. That wise guy who keeps standin' by the ladies' tees holdin' that DAN, YOU HIT FROM HERE! sign.
It's all just so damn amusin' I could bust.
So what if I was the only pro to lose to Annika at the Colonial? Dan Scruggs ain't ashamed! She's plumb good if you wanna know the truth! Stop laughin', you damn hyenas! How many a you bums ever shot 59? O.K., except you, Duval.
The point is, you guys gotta stop mockin' me! I cain't live like this! And whichever of you jerks changed the name on my locker to DANA—I will hunt you down!
You do damn too know what I mean: You idiots askin' when I'm gonna sign my endorsement deal with Midol. Writin' my name onto the LPGA money list. Sneakin' pom-pom headcovers onto my woods.
O.K., so I went to Fort Worth and I lost to a girl. At least I didn't WD like 17 of you yella bellies! Like you, Bomber! You fire 78 on Thursday and then tell the press your thyatic nerve was actin' up. Hail, I don't think humans even have thyatic nerves.
And how 'bout you, Sponge? Funny how you turned yer ankle with one hole to play and yer ball sittin' under that H�agen-Dazs cart, huh? How'd you turn it, hoppin' the fence on the way to your car?
Hail, 13 of the top 25 of you pigs didn't even play. That's perty convenient! Like you, Jay Bob! "Wife might go into labor," my ass! I happen to know you and Darlene are adoptin'!