The Summer Olympics come to a close on Sunday, and fears of explosions didn't come true, unless you count our basketball team. Americans failed to yet again win a fencing medal — or care, for that matter. On the plus side, Americans are now about 0.000004 percent more aware of souvlaki, whatever the devil that is.

As I watched the Olympic coverage on NBC (Olympic motto: "If you haven't already read it on Athens2004.com, it's new to you!"), I only had one thought in my head as I watched gymnasts tumble and sprinters bite their gold medals:

Somewhere in the Olympic Village, two people are having sex.

It's not a big secret. Durex, a condom company, (for many nerd bloggers, this is probably a foreign subject) donated 130,000 of their signature product to the Olympic village.

Durex marketing dude Mark Critchley even announced, "As the official supplier of condoms and lubricants, we hope the donation will help athletes improve their achievements between the sheets." It should be noted that Critchley said nothing about action on pool tables, washing machines, pole vault pits or pommel horses.

How rampant are these — how shall we put this — casual training sessions?

In an interview of the September edition of Playboy, Olympic high jumper Amy Acuff said, "One of the big misconceptions is that every athlete is 100 percent serious about being there. A number of athletes in the Village — people who know they don't have a chance — are there to have a party."

Hey, if you're not getting paid, you might as well be getting laid.

If Acuff speaks the truth (and who these days doesn't listen to blonde chicks?), why are we not showcasing the skills of these randy athletes?

Let's make sex an Olympic sport.

First, we need to establish that sex is a sport. Indeed, it requires energy and physical duress. Many of the feelings after sex compare to those after — say — lifting heavy weights. Your legs are tired, your brow is covered in sweat and you don't feel like doing it again for a while.