First off - Scott is back to bloggin' after his post-season hiatus. Still one of my favorite writers on the internets, good to have him back.

Anyhoo, Josh and I were g-chatting yesterday and in between racial slurs and talk of jerking it while drinking bourbon, we decided that this tourney is one of the weakest fields in years. I can't call anything bold like last year's Bradley picks -- the only real upset I'm calling is Winthrop over ND, but, hell, EVERYONE is calling that one. Old Dominican and the Dirtbags could both pull of some upsets, maybe VCU, too, but I'm just not 100% sold. Just a shit ton of parity (if not mediocrity) in the mix.

The two things I am looking forward to:

1) An Illinois v. Southern Illinois match up in the "thrilling thirty-two", which may end with a score of 14 to 9. It's also scheduled to go at around 1:30 on Sunday; which, post St Pats day, will be the perfect excuse to mosey down to the pub and drown my hangover in pints and wings.

2) The ever enjoyable first time this conversation happens (and it happens every year):

Someone: "Al, how's your brackets?"

Me:(sorrowful)"Busted. (tuba impersonation) whaaaaat-whaaaat-whaaaa"

Someone: "You're such a douche."

Anyway, here's how I see this whole thing turning out:

Agree? Disagree? Let it be known. But either way, I don't care.

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I'd like to see a rematch of the college football title game with florida and ohio state only w/out THE ohio state crapping their pants (or shorts i guess) this time.
i was on my way to work this morning and "no rain" came on the radio. it reminded me of the time you drunkenly sang it on karaoke night at sharp shooters and some dude made a negative comment. i believe you told him to "fuck off"
into the micraphone, or something along those lines. good times al, good times.
Ah, yes, yes. After yet another barnburning performance of "No Rain" by yours truly, some dude standing at the bar yelled "You suck!" So I said into the mike, calmly "oh, you didn't like it? Well, then... SUCK MY FUCKING DICK."

He was stunned. Just absolutly frozen that I'd say that. He didn't even try to fight me (which was kind of surprising), he just stood there, shocked, watching as the karoeke-meister cautiously took the mike from me.

By the end of the night he and I were swaying side by side singing "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" during a Sox-Yanks ALCS game. I don't remeber his name, but I'll call him Ruddiger.

Good times, indeed, Billy. Good times with Ol' Ruddiger.
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