Not tonight, dear; I need to oil my hip

Kind of hilarious, kind of horrifying story in The New York Times today.

Fave bits (and they're not made of some newfangled ceramics, either):

Now, tens of thousands of ceramic hips later — from Stryker and other makers that entered the field — many patients say their squeaking hips are interfering with daily life. ... It can interrupt sex when my wife starts laughing,” said one man, who discussed the matter on the condition that he not be named.

Hey, artificial hips can be like birth control (for those who need it). Who woulda thunk?

Also, the article links to this YouTube moment:

Back to grading and writing for the paper now. Thinking about the knee replacements I need. Sometimes my shoes squeak at the gym, but I'm not sure I need a few knee squeaks every time I take a step! Hmmmmmmm.