I don't like to gamble. But if there's one thing I'm always willing to bet on- it's myself.

Think about it... there were a lot of things in the past year or two we wanted to bet on but went completely awry. Hideo Kojima leaving Konami? No way. Brexit? Hell no. Presidential elections?  
The Golden State Warriors (yup. Still bringing up the loss of that 3-1 lead in the finals vs. Cavaliers). A 25 point lead in the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl. The final demise of Keeping Up With the Kardashians (Ok? I'm actually happy we were wrong about that. KUWTK is a guilty pleasure of mine. Don't care how you feel about that!)  

The possibility of snow on a Tuesday in DC following 70 degree weather only a few days prior? Come on!

Some of these seedings on my bracket have me scratching my head, too. Like the rest of the world, I'm wondering why Wisconsin is at no.8?

But alas, it's March. The second best month of the year, after December. March Madness is something you expect to be wrong about, but go in outlandishly optimistic. And if it gets messed up in the first round?  
FAKE NEWS! SAD!

I'm unveiling my bracket tomorrow (are you following me on Twitter yet?), once I've finished my ritual of prayer, meditation, and sprinkling holy water over it. It's going to be perfect. Glorious. Immaculate. This is the year my bracket doesn't get busted- even though the odds of a perfect bracket are somewhere between  1 in 9,223,372,036,854,775,808 (or 1 in 9.2 quintillion) or 1 in 128 billion.  

But your odds in experiencing completely distinct, memorable bouts of pleasure- in whatever fashion you choose to experience me- are a lot closer to 1 in 1.  

Trust me, I'm not a bracket buster. (But I can definitely do some ball busting, if that's what you're into!)

Your time and pleasure aren't things you have to gamble with. Place your bets on the winning team. I'm happy to demonstrate to you again how few pleasures in life surpass the merriment that accompanies the meeting of the minds- and writhing bodies.  

There's no way to lose when you've got me engaging you in a dimly lit bedroom that we've made into our own chamber of hedonism... and learning you and all the things you enjoy... and bending over in front of you, in the raciest of outfits, giggling and moaning... and allowing you to release your unbridled passion for a woman like me to enjoy.  

I'm always excited to share those moments with you. It's like the confetti that falls from the ceiling at the close of the big dance.  
Except it's you.
You are the confetti that erupts on me.  
And we just finished our dance.