The Madness of March

I am busy preparing for a case, so this random communique will be rather brief – and won’t include any references to the Dire Straits album…except that one:

• Who nude that Patrick – the cartoon character who looks suspiciously like the “little man in the boat”, and hangs around with everybody’s favorite fashionably dressed kitchen utensil, SpongeBob SquarePants – would be the brains behind their insane operation?  Even though upon more repeated glances than cyclops trying to read the fine print with bifocals, the show appears to consist of nothing more than them doing dumb stuff, and going to the underwater equivalent of White Castle all the time.  Maybe the better question is, why is  an underwater cartoon restaurant seemingly based off a fart factory like White Castle.  But in its reincarnated cartoon version the place is called Crabbie Patties, or something that sounds more appropriate for that old, angry and smelly lady that wouldn’t talk and you never wanted to sit by in church. Not that I ever experienced anything like that in person…
• Not too long ago I experienced a colon cleansing meal at a certain hospital cafeteria, and I can honestly say that looks have never been more deceiving since that “Sheila” Crocodile Dundee tried to pick up in that bar was actually a bloke.  This particular one appeared to have somewhat swanky food, and multiple choices.  All the food groups were represented.  Hell, I’d never even heard of the “grain” group, but sure enough, there it was.  They even had sushi!  Oh yeah, if you’re ever going to eat something raw, what better place to do it than at a hospital?  I mean, you could open the stuff up, eat it, and start walking to the ER all in one swift motion if necessary.  What a country! The tempura shrimp roll I had sucked more than a dehydrated leech.  The rice on the roll was hard enough to patch the part of the sidewalk they were working on outside the window. I can confirm that the country fried steak was fried, but I’m not sure how much steak there was to it.  The hash browns looked liked greasy doll hair, with the occasional brown strand thrown in for coloring . Maybe Ragedy Ann was on the fry daddy that morning and didn’t wear a net, I don’t know.  I did eat half of a biscuit, and it wasn’t that bad – plus, the other half worked well as a coaster.  The tots were tatered, and they were high school cafeteria grade.  Not much more you could say about that.
• Does anyone know if there are separate office pools around the country for the Not Interested Tournament? If so, I imagine they’re probably like the college basketball equivalent to those hotel pools that are max 5 feet deep, and have so much cholorine in them that you look like you’re a leper from Nagasaki once you get out of it. Are there like meetings of people who remain anonymous that meet around town to talk about how embarrassing it is to follow a team that is in the NIT? The meetings would  probably be take place right after Militant Breastfeeders Who Advocate Toplessness.  Does an actual newspaper publish NIT brackets, or do you have to pay to get one?  I heard they don’t come out until like 5 minutes before the first game, because they don’t know who is going to be in it, or if it’s going to be played in a middle school, high school, or church gym.  Do they even have seeds in the NIT?  If so, do they start at 65?  What are the regions called – Got Screwed, Didn’t Have A Chance, Terrible, and Only Here for The Gate Money?