Hey everybody it's Jessica we are still enjoying our holiday break and filling our

emotional chalk buckets back with passion for 2017 and the upcoming NCAA

season that starts this weekend in the meantime please enjoy this special gift from Spencer and

we'll see you guys next week back on a regular schedule. Uh-oh, we've gone and done another Mexican open.

The 12th most prestigious annual gymnastics comedy gala held in the Americas Americas clattered into our lives once again, bestowing upon

us a whole new gloriously psychotic slate of pirate and gyration themed exhibition floor

routines, you know those, that had been practiced almost once.

While nothing could ever compare to the wonder of the Alexey Namov tour of hallucinogenic half-naked strobe light fish fantasies that

graced the nation of Russia this summer. The Mexican Open invited just the

right number of exhibitionist Tam slash aspiring strippers I think to make this year a sufficiently

nonsensical success.

It certainly wasn't that sad little potato of an Olympics gala that made us all wish we had never been born.

And for that it deserves our eternal love and praise.

Apparently the Mexican Open is also an actual gymnastics competition that was won by

Angela Lansbury or something.

I don't know, nobody cares.

That's because instead we have Petrix Barbosa, whose shirt disappeared faster than

was previously thought humanly possible, descending from Mount Olympus to perform what

was basically an impregnation of Catalina Poonor to the tune of Shakira.

Let's call a spade a spade, their hips told a lot of stories and none of them were lies.

They actually might both be pregnant.

Pono's own shirt spontaneously shredded itself into a fairly pointless shark bitten tatter because it just couldn't anymore.

...