You're listening to the micro version of the Savage Lovecast at savage.love.

If you're stuck in a relationship quandary, or if you're looking for sexual harmony,

while there's nothing you can't pass on the Savage Lovecast.

My shoulder hurts.

If you missed the top of last week's show, I tore my rotator cuff.

My doctor swears he can rebuild me.

He has the technology.

I will be better than I was before.

Better, stronger, faster.

But the surgery to rebuild my shoulder was postponed.

So instead of getting to enjoy me this week, post-surgery and on powerful painkillers,

which could have been fun, you get to enjoy me this week in pain, sleep deprived, and very,

very grumpy. And it's probably why I'm going to say what I'm about to say, because in addition to

my shoulder being impaired, maybe my judgment is impaired, but I'm just going to say it.

Can we stop trying to cram hockey players into pride jerseys, please?

I don't know how many hockey fans are also Savage Lovecast listeners. Maybe there's some

overlap. I'm guessing not a lot.

So you're probably not following hockey player Pride Jersey Gate or Jersey Gazi or whatever we're

calling it. But it goes like this. Hockey teams, like so many sports teams have for years now,

are hosting Pride nights, which is fine, I guess. Pride used to be a day, then it was a weekend,

then it was a month, and now, just like it's always happy hour somewhere, it's always Pride

somewhere, including hockey arenas. Now I love Pride. I also love Christmas, and one of the

...