The story seemed simple enough — eligible celebatchelor has a one-night-stand with a much-maligned but still famous gossip celeb, both parties reap the benefits of the tabloid reaction to the unconventional pairing, becomes footnote in six months, everybody wins. Then Lance Armstrong had to open his dope-free mouth and declare that he and Ashley Olsen are just friends, the idea of which is so improbable and preposterous, if it’s actually true, I’m gonna lose a whole bunch of respect for both of them:

“Ashley Olsen and I are strictly friends,” he said in Friday’s New York Post. “We have hung out amongst other friends, and she strikes me as a nice, smart lady.”

What, you thought I was banging this hot, barely-of-age, super-famous billionaire chick as part of my ongoing celebrity poon-a-thon as I approach middle age? No, no, no. This hot, barely-of-age, super-famous billionaire chick and I are just friends.

Billionaire chick who is half my age and I will go to the movies together, we’ll hang out in sweatpants and eat chips and salsa and share stories about other random celebrities we’ve slept with without ever actually sleeping together ourselves, we’ll go to dinner at really ritzy hangouts then share a four-star hotel room together and not f*ck.

You know, friend stuff.