Enter the Madness!

As hopefully all of you know, March Madness is upon us... This means that all I do is sit in front of a television all afternoon and evening and watch schools that I've never heard of play basketball. By the way, my bracket is totally screwed, so I'm just going to root for zany upsets for the rest of the tournament. I should have gone with my gut instinct to just pick all the teams with cool mascots to win, in which case I definitely would have chosen the Vermont Catamounts and Bucknell Bison. I'm a little worried about my Illini who play Nevada in a couple hours, though I know I shouldn't be.
I can't think of many hilarious stories to tell right now... I was really sick and very busy with work and studying this past week, so I didn't get out much. I did go to Brothers for about an hour on St. Pattie's Day to hang out with a friend, whose name I won't mention because I haven't asked her permission to disclose it. Let's just called her "Eileen R.". Oh no, that's way too obvious. How about "E. Ryan"? It was a really weird experience because I went to the bar straight from studying at the library at about 12:30, so when I got there, everyone was really drunk and rowdy. And what made things worse is that apparently every friend I have happened to be there at the same time, in four distinct groups. I know girls only want guys who have "skills", and I have the bow-hunting skills and computer-hacking skills, but my social skills are not superior enough yet to be able to handle four distinct groups at the same time. And definitely not possible in a state of complete sobriety. But, I digress...
Anyway, the aforementioned anonymous friend is hilarious and fear-inspiring. When any guy she doesn't know tries to dance with her (or even leans or bumps into her), he is instantly greeted by two sharp elbows to the sides of the ribcage. She also insists on twirling any random guy she feels like, just because she can, and because she wants to show what weak-minded sluts males are. Needless to say, I'm glad I'm on the inside track where I don't get physically abused, and I get entertained by marginally believable stories of hardcore one-armed bums with satin top hats and wheelchair dogs fighting seeing-eye dogs.
I'll be heading to Florida this week with my family, so unfortunately it may be awhile before I write again. I do plan on hardcore kicking Mickey right in butt, though.