Ah, the NCAA Men’s Tournament. The greatest, most frenzied sports orgy of the year. 64, I mean 68 teams vying for the title. Those extra four annoy me. If you have to pick those play in games for your bracket, your league commissioner hasn’t had sex in at least two years.
This is the time of year some dipshit you work with fills out nine brackets, then brags about picking the 13th seeded Saint Martin’s Cathedral A&M’s upset over West Virginia State on the one stupid bracket that is mathematically eliminated by the second day. I also hate ESPN calling it “Bracketology” like it’s some kind of science. Every other year a story breaks about someone winning by picking mascots or letting a chicken shit on one of two school names – it’s not science. I got second out of 157 people last year and won $70. Almost enough to pay for the 24 times I haven’t won. So, sit back, skip work, pound beers and try not to get a DUI before the late games start…oh, and keep your yam shut about your psychic powers and basketball genius.