March Madness: it's not just for annoying old men and face-painters anymore

March Madness is for EVERYONE, even fabulous awesome women who may or may not know a lot about it. That is why, my fierce bitches, I am hosting The First Annual SGM High Roller Tournament Pick 'Em Contest!

TO ENTER: email me at scentedglossymagazines@gmail.com by Wednesday and I will send you instructions on how to join my private yahoo fantasy group (sounds dirty, but I swear it has nothing to do with prostitution) in which you can fill out your bracket, easy as can be, and press "submit." **Edit** I'm out of town until Tuesday afternoon--I do have computer access but there may be a bit of a delay in sending you your invitation. Don't fret, I will get it to you in plenty of time.

THE WINNER SHALL RECEIVE: Recognition on this blog as The Supreme High Roller of 2008. Sorry there's no cash involved but I just beat those racketeering and drug trafficking charges and I don't need the FBI on my case again.

WHY YOU SHOULD ENTER:

1) It will give you a chance to bond with your sports-loving man, your sports-loving crush, or just the guy in line behind you at Staples who is wearing a shirt supporting the team you picked to win it all.

2) You will have a legitimate reason to stare at strapping young men being all intense and sweaty. Exhibit A--#25

He'd be on my Free Pass Five if I weren't old enough to be his mother (his very young mother).

3) Dude, it's fun. It really is, even if you don't know anything about basketball. But see here for a brief explanation of the tournament if you feel clueless.

I know you don't come here to read about sports, but indulge your little friend SGM, will you? I promise, it will not interfere with my coverage of The Real Housewives of New York City.

In my world, he's not gay*

I just confessed to my friend JJ that my spending hiatus has caused me to have an unhealthy obsession with the J Crew catalog. It is my porn that sits out in the open, on the coffee table, in the kitchen, on my nightstand. Just when I have memorized my copy and it begins to get tattered and worn, they send me another one, this time with a crazy gorgeous man wearing motherfucking white pants and a tartan jacket! Are you kidding me?! Who knew this could be so sexy? Those evil geniuses at J Crew!

He's so going on my free pass five; that outfit will be mandatory during our encounter. I'm pretty sure I would Eliot Spitzer him as well. By the way, a free pass post is forthcoming, so get your list in order!**

*and he has a thing for 30-something women with muffin-tops and an addiction to trash tv.

**If you have no idea what I'm talking about, please refer to I Could Kill Her's "Free Pass Ass." And yes, I am referring you here not only to explain the concept of free pass, but also because Elaine refers to me as lovely and super-talented.

I do not like black licorice

If you watched Real Housewives of NYC tonight, then you understand the title of this post. Let's get started with personal messages to all of the "housewives."

1. Alex. Not much of you tonight, and I have to say I was a little disappointed. I'd like to remind you that people who brag about how wonderful their marriages are, how in love they are, how perfect their families are . . . they are the ones who end up getting divorced and/or humiliated in very public ways. Remember Kathy Lee Gifford? No? Then how about Nick and Jessica? Spencer and Heidi?

I think the consensus is that your husband is a closeted homosexual. Watch your back, honey. Also, your boob was showing when Simon and you were having your smug-fest.

2. Bethenny. Meh. Boring. The best part was your cute little dress with the Greek key trim, first noted by Brilliant Asylum, and apparently designed by Ginny Hilfiger. Witness:

However, I was not crazy about the cropped red leather jacket that you wore with it. No biggie. I'll give you a free pass on that one because of your really awful childhood.

3. Ramoner. And no, that is not a typo. That is how Jill pronounces Ramona's name and it drives me fucking INSANE! I swear, the accents on this show increase the these-people-suck quotient by 75%.

But back to you, Ramoner. I am totally on your side in your battle with Jill. You didn't have to invite her to your small cooking party, and your excuse to the cameras was totally legit. It's that damn Countess who backstabbed you! You didn't lie when asked "where's Jill," you said "I don't know, I think she's in the city." The "I don't know" protects you in my book. You were caught in an awkward situation, okay? I understand.

Ramoner, I am actually starting to like you and your husband Mary-o, but you must work on the wardrobe. Avery was right--I don't care if that top was Missoni, it looked like lingerie. You were showing way. too. much. It makes you look older. And desperate for attention.

4. La Comtesse. You are so beautiful and have no accent, which means you could be my favorite, but no. You are proving yourself to be a nasty, pretentious person. So unfortunate! For reals, girl. Let's look into being gracious, okay? If Ramoner invites you to a cooking party, you either happily accept or you decline and go about your business. You don't accept and then get all smirky "I'm too cool for this shit" behind her back. Also, making fun of Ramoner's horse-show outfit to the camera was such a crappy thing to do. Now look what you've done! You've made me defend Ramoner's outfit.

Don't think I didn't notice the part you played in the Ramoner-Jill fight. You totally twisted Ramoner's words and then said that Ramoner just should have been straight-forward and admitted that Jill wasn't invited. The irony! You don't know the first thing about being straight-forward.

5. Jill. Where do I begin? First, are you Joy Behar's sister?

Because I close my eyes when you speak AND I HEAR JOY BEHAR. There's a resemblance right?

Second, quit pushing the Bobby-Allyson relationship. Ally doesn't love Bobby like you do and you need to be okay with this. Sheesh. Also, the food issues that are going on here with Ally? Bad. Bad, bad, bad. The detox was not about arthritis, toots. If it was, you would have not screamed with joy at seeing your daughter lose 11 pounds in 8 days.

Third, don't wear tanks with straps one inch wide. Stacy and Clinton from What Not to Wear will back me up on this. Your boobs are waaaay too big. But your tank top choice was nice in that the inappropriate cleavage reminded me of the OC ladies.

Fourth, you kind of insinuated that you invented the phrase "gay husband." You did not. Just wanted to clarify that because my gullible husband thought that you were clever for it.

Fifth, I will explain the black licorice reference. Bethenny remarked, "Jill is like black licorice. You either like it or you hate it." Then there was a bit of a pause and Bethenny said "I like black licorice." I know that I'm mixing Bravo metaphors, but Bethenny's been in the monkey house too long.

This show is an adult version of My Super Sweet Sixteen. No one cares about being friends; they only care about out-doing each other. And you're damn straight I will keep watching it.

Thoughts?

Real Housewives of New York City

Two posts in a row that do not mention reality tv

It must be some sort of record for me. Anyhow.

How much would you pay for this house?

Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, 2800 square feet.

I happen to know that it's located on a road paved with red brick and sits among other beautiful old houses with mature yards. If you cut through the back yard and cross a two lane street, you would be on a golf course with lots of beautiful old trees. Right now, this neighborhood has a wonderful scent--fresh and springy and green.

The house could use a little updating, but not much.

And you could live just up the street from my mama and about a mile from the awesome Sucker for Marketing.

This house, in a comparable neighborhood in Denver, would cost at least $2 mill--but this house, located in my small-ish midwestern hometown is $319,000. Holy Jeebus. Doesn't it kind of make you want to pack up and move in and slow down? Me too. Dude, I've already mentally repainted that hallway and some of that paneling as well as bought some new furniture for that living room.

But no one tell my mama that.*

P.S. Don't forget Real Housewives of NYC tonight (couldn't resist).

*Because I'm staying put. I am a small town girl, but I love all that the big city has to offer--sports, shopping, drugs, culture, hookers, etc. Can't leave all that behind.

Great News!

I'm a cougar!

My husband and I went out for dinner with friends last weekend, and he was the last to order a drink. He was carded. That's right. My 36 year old husband, who is a mere 2 months younger than I, looks as though he might not be 21! Lest you think he dresses like a kid--he does not. The bastard just happens to have fantastic skin and a full head of hair.

So, I am psyched. If anyone wants to meet at Cool River (gross Denver pick-up bar) for happy hour later, let me know! I'll be the haggard, sloppy-drunk one on the dance floor in the too short skirt. Wooo!