Thanks to EB reader Ashley, who sent in this Michael Phelps sighting from Columbia, South Carolina.

As I am sure you know (because we all know that you have a GPS unit attached to him ) Michael has been in Columbia for the last few days. Well tonight my boyfriend sent me a text telling me that Michael Phelps was in his store (He’s the Ass Man at the Harbison Store here in Columbia. Ass Man read as assistant manager!!). When I called him, he said that when Michael came in, he had a baseball cap pulled down low and that he had his employee check his id to verify his identity. My boyfriend’s employee asked if he was “the Michael Phelps” and he kind of shook his head and pulled the cap down even further. My boyfriend made small talk with him and asked how he liked our football game on Saturday. (He was at the USC game against Arkansas; that would be the Gamecocks, NOT the condom named Trojans.) He said that he enjoyed the game and that it was exciting. I begged him to please get me an autograph, he said that Michael was not giving any out. His employee managed to get one autograph for the store and that was it. She also said that he wasn’t exactly the nicest person.

Awww, Michael. Be nicer to your fans! You’re not so bored of being famous when you want to hook up with cocktail waitresses in Vegas, are you?

I’ll make the same comment I always make: Not enough gratuitous shots of Michael Phelps’ penis. I don’t think I can get behind this product. But I sure as hell can get behind Michael Phelps … and in front of him, and on top of him, and on my side and in the shower and in the dressing rooms of the Speedo store and … I should stop now.

Thanks GrumpyGirl80!

Ted Casablanca’s latest blind item sure sounds a lot like my beloved:

It can be a rocky journey to the top, and no one knows this better than Finnegan Furrow-Brow. He’s been in the spotlight for years, but never had that star recognition until most recently. See, Finny’s a younger-type dude who’s been thrust upon this world of flashing lights and flashing panties simply due to his ambitious achievements (which, of course, means he’s starting to dabble in all kinds of crossover activities too, which usually happens with the young, firmly muscled and pretty popular).

F’s tight ass and adorable smile def don’t hurt his fame cred, either, but newly minted megamoney and magnified status aside, FFB isn’t exactly a traditional knockout stud. Regardless, his basically “unthreatening” demeanor gets girls into the throes of his sheets all the damn time, anyways. But…these digging damsels shouldn’t be too eager. Here’s why:

Despite Frazzy’s best ass-getting efforts, when it comes down to it, he often has difficulty knocking the cojones outta the park. Why? Oh, not because of any diss-able effort on his part—turns out, actually it’s quite the opposite, as Mr. F.B.’s predicaments usually occur because he’s such a good guy. See, he got the herp. And being the nice boy he is, he’ll always warn (hugely unlike most of his H-town counterparts, hugely) these supple potential nooky sirens that he has herpes, but not to worry cause they can “just use a condom.”

Cue girl’s exit. Almost always.

What do we think? Is this Phelpsy? Who else could it be???

Oh dear!

Thanks Jordana!

“When I go out, go to dinner, I go out with friends, and we stay to ourselves. I don’t think of myself as a sex symbol. My mom is by far the most important woman in my life.”

Michael Phelps, totally lying, in an interview with People.

Here’s Michael Phelps singing Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing” in a commercial for Citation Shares, which just fucking blows my mind because Citation Shares offers — you guessed it — fractional ownership of Citation jets. And if there’s anything the average American really needs right this minute, it’s fractional ownership of a fucking private luxury jet.

I like the other ad he did for them better because at least I get to see his hot tummy, if only briefly.

I do! I do!

Unfortunately, what’s actually being auctioned is private swimming lessons with Michael Phelps … in a pool, clothed.

Michael Phelps fans are about to get the opportunity to bid on their own private swim lessons from the Olympian. Phelps, who’s on the committee for the Animal Care and Control charity event at Pressure on Thursday, agreed to auction himself off. The package will entitle two adults and a child to spend time in the pool with him and include a photo with the superstar and a limited-edition, autographed piece of memorabilia

Listen, Michael, how’s about a trade? You give me swimming lessons, and I’ll give you lessons in … well … that’s a secret for now. But here’s a hint: It’s not blogging.

Thanks Jordana!

My opinion, in general, was quite simple: NOT NAKED ENOUGH.

Honestly, though, between the Palin/Clinton sketch at the start and the Cathy bit on Weekend Update (if you find that bit on YouTube, PLEASE let me know), I hardly even noticed Phelpsy was there. Probably for the best.

I would have noticed him more if he were nakeder. And more in my bed. With his gold medals hanging around his neck and a pillow draped gently over the entirety of his face. And he would be silent except to occasionally whisper hot sexy things in my head while managing not to use any of the letters that he lisps. And he is absolutely not allowed to scream “Oh yes!” when he orgasms, because if I’m having sexual intercourse with a man and he lisps while coming, my vagina will probably fall off.

Not only will Michael “Size 14″ Phelps be appearing on SNL this weekend — he’ll be wearing a Speedo. So, ya know, SNL’s ratings will see a huge bump, much like that Speedo.

Phelps, who won a record eight gold medals, began reading through skits with the cast Wednesday night, and it’s already clear his wardrobe will be kept to a minimum, with parodies of his Olympics moments, his skimpy Speedos, his emotional mom in the stands – and even Phelps as Aquaman.

“There’s some really, really funny skits – anything you can imagine, they nailed just about every topic,” Phelps says.

And Michael Phelps knows all about nailing things.

I’ll be out of town this weekend, but you’d better believe I’ll be DVRing this. Yes, all the good skits will be on YouTube anyway, but I don’t want to miss a second of Phelpsy’s hot body. SNL’s gonna see ratings like they haven’t seen since the ’80s.