So it seems our good old friend Porky’s is no more.

We walked past today, only to discover it is now known as ‘Seventy Seven.’ This was apparently the original name of the club when it opened in 1988.

I thought it lost a lot of its appeal when the Eurasian chick with the enormous boobs stopped encouraging the passing trade to enter inside.

I really do miss the sight of her.

Tiger Woods was one of the most tightly branded (and bland) public personalities anywhere. So with the unfolding story of 10 or more regular ladies on the side, it’s not too hard to imagine him rocking up at Kings Cross bar Porky’s on his last trip.

Every year around this time, Porky’s gets dolled up in tinsel, Christmas trees and Santas, and truckloads of lights.

A sign above the bar’s Darlinghurst Road front door gets used for ad hoc messages, kind of like a heathen take on the St Barnabas on Broadway. In June, they used it to point NRL players elsewhere. This week, they’re claiming Tiger as a recent guest.

Bummer, guys. That’s a real porker.