This Means the Smart Money's On Butler

Madness is in the air.  Can you feel it?  Me neither.  It's not technically March madness anymore, but college basketball madness all the same.  I'm told that anticipation for this weekend's games has reached fever pitch in some places.  I don't know where those places are.  See, I only care about feign interest in college basketball once a year when it's time to fill out my bracket.  Sometimes it can be as tedious as filling out my taxes.  After the anything-can-happen excitement of the first weekend wore off, I pretty well stopped following the tournament to focus on more interesting pursuits.  Now that my belly button is free and clear of lint, I tune in to find that none of my picks made it to the final pairings.  Attempting to get me re-engaged at this point is all but useless.  Unless you can find a way to present the matchups as a metaphorical audio-visual mashup of questionable taste.  Then I might be interested.  With that in mind -- and sensing that there are many like-minded individuals reading this -- I present you with a prelude to the climactic Final Four weekend.  For the love of all that is holy, put the children to bed first (unless you're ready to have the birds-and-the-bees talk now-ish.) Then put on some Mötley Crüe and let's jam.