Ed. note: Feel free to print this out and distribute to your co-workers. 


No one, and I mean no one, will give so much as 0.01 flying fucks when you correctly predict a mildly surprising upset in the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament.

Let me be clear: if you pick several upsets at random, the laws of probability and the historical unpredictability of the tournament suggest that you’re going to get one or two right. This doesn’t mean you have a great eye for talent or a supernatural ability to read match-ups.

What it does mean: it happened. It’s a thing that happened.

Do you generally brag about things that happened? Do you pat yourself on the back because your toaster heated bread? Do you run up to strangers on the street to boast of your ability to put on shirts forwards?

No. Nobody fucking cares.

No. Nobody fucking cares.

Actually, you’re the sort of person who would do that.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t tweet about it. Don’t casually mention it to your co-worker, with a smirk that says, “Yeah, I know things.”

Because no one gives a fuck. Not a big fuck, not a small fuck, not a medium fuck, not a fuckety fuck. That is all.


Your Friendly Co-worker

We can't play sports*, but we can make jokes about them!

*Two of our writers hit a home run** once
**It was in a video game.