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Archive for March 18th, 2007

leprechaun_with_beer_goggles.jpgToday is a day to be patient and vigilant. I’m waiting for signs of life. And I’m waiting for basketball to start up again.

The Channel Four News Team took Saturday off from live-blogging, with the stated purpose of going out and getting well and truly blasted for Saint Patrick’s Day. I was doing the responsible family man thing, so I just had a couple of beers while watching The Departed with my wife. The only really dangerous side effect from my evening is an overwhelming desire to talk like Mark Wahlberg’s creatively foul-mouthed character.

But what of my younger, more Irish colleagues? AA (ironic nickname at this point) had to watch his beloved Terrapins lose in the second round to Butler. And that was probably before the real drinking got started. Just Call Me Juice has been fighting a nasty illness all week, but something tells me he drank anyway. Either way, I’m concerned about his lucidity at this time. S2N and Run up the Score live in westerly time zones, so I won’t start to worry about them until about 2pm. And I know One More Dying Quail was pretty together for most of the day, as he filled in for Our Book of Scrap with Emerald Isle tidbits throughout the day on Saturday.

Knowing these guys, they’ll wake up in time for more NCAA basketball. But I’m keeping my eyes open for signs of life. Speaking of which, I’m barely beating the penny in the JCMJ bracket challenge. I put those smarmy Louisville bastards in the final four, so I’m hurtin’.

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For me, the main excitement today is college basketball. I am heading in to do my volunteer radio show from 10-noon ET (listen in if you like, jazz soothes hangovers), then rushing home to catch the UVA/Tennessee Orange as Hell game. Then I’ll take a break for a couple of hours and, like, play with my kid or something. Then it’s the main event – the Kansas/Kentucky matchup. Even when one team is in a down year, games like this thrill me. The weight of tradition hangs so heavy on either program, records almost don’t matter any time they get together. But if we have to go out and get Tubby Smith fired, so be it.

One last thing. This is not a porn blog. I know most of you know this, but some seem not to. During College Football season, I wrote a weekly entry called “Porn Name All-Stars”, in which I made up all-star teams for each BCS conference composed of real player names like “Cain Ringstaff”, “Jimmy McClam”, and “Kyle Sackrider”. It was great fun, but since then the inclusion of the numerical names of conferences and the word “porn” has resulted in some frankly disturbing search terms. Yesterday was the pinnacle, as I got ten people searching for “14-year-old Mexican porn”. Guys, that’s what we call pedophelia and it’s NOT OK! If I could find a way to block you from the site, I would, but better yet, I’d love to find a way to sic the cops (or that “Catch a Predator” guy) on you. You are not welcome here.

OK, shake it off. Let’s all wake up, take a long leak, count our fingers and toes, and hope our friends haven’t written on our faces while we were passed out. And let’s watch some more kick-ass NCAA basketball!

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