Bye-bye, 2012 Olympics! After Aug. 12, you’ll be history. I’ll miss you. But you’ve left me with a lot to think about:

Gold-medalist swimmer Ryan Lochte deserves a reality series. He confessed to peeing in the Olympic pool, his mom said he goes on one-night stands (but later recanted), and he owns a $25K bejeweled USA flag tooth grill. For the Florida resident, I’m thinking: “Real Swimmers of the Sunshine State.”

At 60, how does Bob Costas keep his youthful glow? My theory: He’s stored in a cryogenic chamber between Olympics to slow the aging process.

Some female beach vollyballists say their toes get so cold from digging into deep layers of sand that they must soak them in hot water. So shouldn’t they wear parkas instead of bikinis?

NBC didn’t air events live and saved ’em for prime time, though results were posted hours earlier online. Their control freak-iness annoyed me … but I impressed my Internet-shunning wife by saying, “Call it a hunch — Gabby Douglas might just win gold.”

Glued to the Olympics, I gave up my crummy shows (“Bachelor Pad,” this means you). Will I have the Olympian resolve to never again tune in?