In my email...

Agostinho Eldrige is offering me "gymnast VIAgRA".

Is gymnast VIAgRA different from regular VIAgRA? Is it because gymnasts have a certain reputation to live up to, and, frankly, they need a little help meeting the unreasonable standard society puts on them?

I can see the problem. You're able to hold yourself in a prone position from rings. Plus, you can do the splits in mid-air, hold that position, then rotate your legs upward into a handstand. You're buff - you're cut - you're flexible - and you can land on your feet. That sets up expectations, doesn't it?

Then, there's the pommel horse incident. You're running, top-speed. You're focused. You know just where to plant your feet and grab the horse. But just as you approach the horse, you hear a voice in your head. It's that little Russian gymnast who is supposed to take the floor exercise competition. You hear some music and you recognize that it's for her routine. She must be starting her routine right now - just there, on the mat to the right. She's been flirting with you all week. Sure, she's stunted with the body of a 9-year-old, but she's got this way of looking at you...and there's the way she says your name, with that accent - yes, that's the voice you're hearing - it's her saying your name - WHAM!!!! You lost focus, pal. You didn't plant your feet in the right spot, and your hand just missed the horse. And no, that wasn't your chest that slammed into the side of the horse.

So, now...you're going to need a little help. A little pharmaceutical help. And not the garden variety stuff that Phil the accountant living over there on Maple Street needs. No. Phil just has to show up. You - you've got to perform. You're going to need the gymnast VIAgRA.

So, I say, thank god for the Agostinho Eldriges of the world - providing a service, he is. Helping all the gymnasts out there. Someone's got to do it.

She's a mysterious soul

In my email, Mercedes Masters wants to know, "Does it satisfy her?" I don't know, Mercedes. I haven't really talked to her about it, and if I did, I'm not sure she'd tell me. She's a people-pleaser, so she's likely to tell me it's wonderful and all she could ask for when in reality, she's left feeling wanting. I'd like to think it satisfies her. She's a nice person, and I want her to be happy. But there's just no way of knowing if she won't be open about her feelings.

Temps in fabulous Austin, Texas to hit 70-73 today (depending on which forecast you watch). I see all these stories about blizzard conditions up north, and I gotta say, it's good to live in Texas. Oh wait - no, it's not. It's awful to live here, so if you live somewhere else, you should stay there. Don't move here. You wouldn't like it.

Sharky is filthy and deserves better, so I'll have to consider going through a car wash. It's a little chilly to wash it myself (by the time I get home, the temps will no doubt be dropping back into the 60s, and that's a little cold to be getting wet washing a car), but I also don't feel like spending a bunch of money on a Genie-level car wash, so I may just run it through a gas station set-up for a few bucks just to knock the dirt off. It's much too soon to be neglecting Sharky this way.

Hope you're all having a fabulous pre-Christmas week!