I normally keep a pretty neat room but last night when I got home from my half game (more on that to come later) I just wasn't feeling it. As a result my room looks like somebody set off a laundry bomb.
So this morning as I was rummaging through piles upon piles of clean clothes and throwing them in my gym bag, I had a thought. I somehow remembered that it was Monday and I needed to DVR two of the five TV shows that I actually watch. I skipped ahead on the guide to 9pm on CBS only to find out that How I Met Your Mother isn't on tonight.
The reason? The last game of the tournament is taking that valuable air time.
And then it hit me. I am turning soft. And by soft I mean gay.
We live in a really scary world when I am disappointed because I can't get my weekly half-hour dose of Neil Patrick Harris. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Instead I have the opportunity to watch Calipari and his merry band of cheaters go after the National Championship that, should they win, will most likely be vacated. Think I'm exaggerating? Well check out what happened the last time he took a team to the Final Four.
Lights, Camera, Action: Well, not exactly. In what was turning out to be a really good game last night between FC Dynamite and Daily Grind, something funny happened. The lights went off at halftime and refused to come back on. What a total bummer. Even worse is that Red Robin was closed so I got shutout in my effort to crush a late night Banana Shake.
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