In your new book, The Beckham Experiment, you get U.S. star Landon Donovan to open up about what a bad teammate David Beckham has been during his stint on the Los Angeles Galaxy. You also detail how The Beautiful One failed to conquer America.

Granted, not a lot of people care about American soccer, but for those who do, your tome will be this summer’s required reading. Ideally, it will gain some traction abroad as well because, you know, Europeans are obsessed with Becks. If the U.S. can’t put itself on the international soccer map with our play, perhaps one of our writers can.

But you’re going to need a beer or two to deal with the chaos. Oh yes, there will be chaos.

Okay, so owning shares in the insurance company that played a key rolling in bringing about the end of the world as we know it probably wasn’t the greatest idea. That said, the annual stockholders meeting that took place yesterday sounds brutal. NYMag.com has the story:

“It’s like watching your house burn down,” one former employee told Bloomberg, after the meeting. “The emotional toll has been worse than the financial toll, if you can believe that. It’s an American tragedy.”

Sounds a little overblown to us, but here’s a beer regardless. We can’t promise you’ll feel fine, but it might help (and that’s why we’re here).

Yesterday, your husband was sentenced to 150 years in jail. You got off easier, but you still lost over $77.5 million in assets, including $2.6 million in jewelry and almost $50,000 worth of fur coats. (Of course, you’ll get to keep $2.5 million.) For some reason, you can’t seem to find a place to live, which is sort of vaguely sad — although we imagine many people hope you end up on the street. Also, no one will touch up your highlights. Will the travesties never cease?

The Daily News, never one to shy away from pulling a (perhaps justified) punch, wrote that you’re joining the cursed wives club, putting you in the company of mob bosses’ wives, the wife of ex-Enron CEO Kenneth Lay, and various other unsavory types. That’s awkward. For you.

Ruth, we’ll buy you a beer. Everyone deserves a little kindness. But sorry, we don’t do hair.

Venus and Serena, you’re currently tearing up the grass courts at Wimbledon’s All-England club. Each of you destroyed your fourth round opponent earlier today and are on track to face one another in the finals for the second straight year. We can’t picture anything derailing that meeting.

We personally don’t find women’s tennis all that compelling, but you two manage to keep us interested. We imagine ESPN, which is airing the tournament, will gladly thank you as well. With Roger Federer running through the men’s draw and you killing it in the women’s, the Worldwide Leader must be loving its ratings. That’s cause for celebration. Beers all around.

Back in March, we bought a beer for your replacement Jimmy Fallon. Now it’s your turn. Last week, David Letterman beat The Tonight Show’s ratings for the first time since December 2005. (That’s a really long time in the TV world.)

We haven’t watched your version of The Tonight Show — sorry, dude; We don’t watch Letterman’s, either — but we can’t imagine your producer’s are pleased. The good news is you won the 18 to 49 demographic, which is important to advertisers because every knows that only young people buy stuff. The bad news is that things are likely to get worse when Jay Leno, the man you replaced, begins his new 10 p.m. show later this year.

Conan, we like you, man. Drink this beer and get back on your game. Quickly.

We were going to buy a beer for your client, Blake Griffin — who is sure to become the No. 1 pick in tonight’s NBA draft — but he’s not of legal age (awkward… for us) so you get it. The Oklahoma Sooner prospect, who has an extremely close-knit family, is about to make you a rich man. Unfortunately, he’s going to become property of the Los Angeles Clippers, the most snakebitten franchises in all of sports. Although we wish it weren’t the case, in all likelihood, something terrible will happen to Griffin’s career. It’s just the facts.

So here’s a beer. Drink it calmly, if you can.

Considering you’re the governor of South Carolina, it would probably be good for people — you know, at least one — to know where you were at all times. Just in case there’s a natural disaster or legislative issue or your wife needs some milk. Important things.

This little detail didn’t stop you from disappearing (for seven days!) to either Appalachian Trail or Buenos Aires, depending on whether we believe you or your spokesman. Even your Lt. Gov. Andrew Bauer has no idea what you did, admitting to Rachel Maddow, “A lot of what I know I’ve gained has been through the news media.”

Oh, and make sure to tell your wife. She started this whole kerfuffle (yep, it’s a kerfuffle) by telling the Associated Press she hadn’t heard from you in days.

Here’s a beer, Gov. Sanford. We imagine it’s going to be a long couple of days explaining just exactly what you were up to.

You’re the No. 1 tennis player in the world, but you’re missing Wimbledon because you have tendinitis in your knees. At just the tender age of 23, that’s probably a bad sign for your career. (There’s an excellent profile of you in the New York Times Magazine, although the writing pales in comparison to the brilliant essay about Roger Federer published two years ago.)

Frankly, we miss you. We have a friend who knows far more about tennis than we ever care to who says you’re ruining the game because you’re too athletic or something along those lines. We couldn’t disagree more. You’re a pleasure to watch, tennis purists be damned. Get better young man, the sport needs you. (And so does Roger.)

You made waves on the Internet as the “Boom goes the dynamite” kid. (If you have not seen this video, stop whatever you are doing and go watch. Quit your job if you have to.) Bob Costas even stole your trademark phrase over the weekend. It was great, even if we typically think the NBC sportscaster is smarmy and insufferable.

Unfortunately, you no longer have a job. You used to worked for an ABC affiliate in Waco, Texas but you no longer do. Boom goes the job.

But hey, we’ll buy you a beer because you’re out of work. We imagine we’re not the first people to do so.

As Palm’s new CEO, you’ll earn up to $1.7 million per year. That’s a lot, but considering you saved the company by developing the Pre — seriously, check out the stock price — you’re certainly worth it. (But dude, you have got to do something about the ridiculous profiles on Palm’s Web site.)

As a former Apple employee, it must be fun to stick it to Steve Jobs and his crew of white-clad, aesthetically pleasing nerds. It remains to be seen whether your company can defeat the great giant of good gadgets (although, honestly, you don’t really have to for Palm to succeed), but you’re on the right track so far. You’re being richly rewarded for it, but one more incentive won’t hurt. The next round’s on us.