Earlier this week, The New York Post ran a cover story outing a 67 year old Montreal retiree who had just emerged from a coma following a near-asphxyiation at a midtown Manhattan house of domination. Viviane’s Sex Carnival opined, “The Post is a large news operation in one of the most sexually liberated cities on the planet. Not only are there kinky people on the Post™s staff, but I™m thinking odds are good that more than one Post exec had patronized this establishment.” And while we ponder the distubring mental image of Steve Serby hogtied, his colleague Phil Mushnick had a bit of difficulty hanging in throughout yesterday’s Congressional grilling of Roger Clemens :

Consider that Roger Clemens, among the most gifted and privileged athletes of our time, and with access to North America’s finest physicians, by his own admission allowed a gym instructor to inject him – with something or other – in his lower back.

And that, for the longest time yesterday, didn’t tickle anyone’s curiosity.

There was Clemens, soulfully testifying that he was raised to do the right thing and has always done the right thing. Yet, he was in the habit of allowing an amateur physician to stick needles in him then push the plunger.

When’s the last time any of these representatives allowed someone other than a licensed physician to diagnose their ailment and then inject them with the cure? Where do they go when they have a toothache, a pizzeria?

But not until nearly four hours after the hearing began did someone on the 41-member congressional committee ask Clemens why he didn’t choose to be injected by, say, oh, a doctor, as opposed to Brian McNamee. And when Bruce Braley (D-Iowa) injected that question, Clemens answered:

“I’m a trusting person.”

OK, so 4 hours elapsed. But Braley did raise the point and he somehow managed to do so without regurgitating one of Phil’s old columns.