you should be ashamed of yourself. you lured me in with your compelling tales of bracket magic. and I BELIEVED. i believed in your amazing powers of smart team selection and logical logic stuff. and i even, for a minute, got excited about all this ncaa madness and was even going to watch a game or two so that i could cheer on whatever random teams your highly intelligent bracket mechanism selected for me.
here's the part where my lovely husband interjects and says, well, i wanted to tell you stanford was a bad pick. and so then i say, well, why didn't you? and he replies: uh, because i know better.
it doesn't matter that i picked frosh over senior, cinderella over dynasty, private over state or underdog over favorite.
wait scratch that.
IT TOTALLY MATTERS.
turns out the bracket-o-matic can't help you if you prioritize team qualities like you're a monkey on valium.
but still. I BELIEVED.
anyway, my bracket was busted in the first game on the first day. there should be some sort of "special" prize for being the most retarded, right?
i hate your stupid guts-o-matic,
turnovers for breakfast: louisville's defense eats up stanford early
stupid college basketball. stupid bracketface.