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Normally I like to start these kinds of things with a greeting or salutation or witticism of some sort. You won’t get that today.

For too long I’ve been providing you with rock-solid gambling advice and other astute worldly (and otherworldly) observations while asking for next to nothing in return. Well, that’s been going on far too long! I’m sick of getting trampled on in this sad corner of the internet, a whipping boy for a commentariat which laments my success and relishes in my failures.

So, guess what? Nothing is going to change. I’m going to continue giving you ill-advised gambling advice without asking for anything in return. I look forward to reading your ad-hominem attacks in the comments.

Without further ado, here’s my foolproof guide to getting rich off the blood, sweat and tears off teenagers. You’re welcome:

(I realize I gave you a guide to avoiding the NCAA tournament the other day. I realize these two pieces of writing conflict with each-other. Yes, I realize my entire existence is one big joke.)

The first thing you have to in order to even start thinking about winning money in March is to fill your belly with as much sustenance as it will allow. Much like the way you’re filling your pea-sized brain with sage gambling advice now by reading this, I implore you to stuff anything that’s even somewhat edible down your disgusting maw.

Uncooked potatoes? Love em. Raw eggs? Good enough for Rocky Balboa. An entire block of gouda? What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Now, I’m not expecting you to go all Hunter S. Thompson here with your breakfast, but that’s not the worst roadmap for the kind of gluttony I’m trying to force upon you (forgoing the illegal components of his favorite meal of the day, of course). And I mean really, who doesn’t love grapefruit? Buy your grocer out of them for the week. If nothing else, you can use them to make a nice Greyhound each day.

Basically, I’m prescribing (call me the breakfast doctor) a minimum of 4,000 calories in one sitting here. And there’s a very good reason for this. Once you completely ransack your fridge and pantry and shove carb after carb down your gullet, you will have no other option but to sit down. Park yourself in a place where you have access to a minimum of three screens for your viewing pleasure. Got it? Good. Sit. Stay. Good boy. You’re not going to want to get up after what you just put your body through, so every time you get the urge to leave your viewing command center, you have an excuse to tell yourself to get out of even the most basic chores or exercise.

Now that you’re all comfortable and looking like you’re peaking in the second trimester, it’s time to take a gander at who the hell is actually playing today. When you’re betting on games between teams you know absolutely nothing about (where the fuck is St. Bonaventure? Who is Seton and why does he get a Hall?) it’s important to throw away the three “S’s” of March: Seeds, Spreads, and Sircumstance. Take all logic, emotion and calculation out of every single pick. Dumb this whole venture down to the lowest common denominator. Who cares if a team got in the Big Dance for the first time this century? There’s a reason for that: that team STINKS OUT LOUD, it’s in their DNA, so they’ll almost certainly lose by double-digits on a neutral court against a team that’s been in the tourney during your nephew’s lifetime.

Next, take a look at school mascots between match ups. Whichever would win in a fight (not prison rules) means their basketball team would surely win, right?

WRONG! That’s what Vegas WANTS you to think. In reality, the team with the superior color scheme and more adorable mascot (these two usually go hand-in-hand) is your REAL winner.

Now, do the above for five teams in five games. Done? Good. Now parlay those five teams. You’re welcome. Do this whole gluttonous exercise and gambling strategy for four consecutive days. I want to make it really hard for you to take a look in the mirror when this is all said and done.

I’d like to take this time to remind you of the most important rule in gambling: wager only three times what you’re comfortable losing. Most bookies give you a couple weeks grace period on your debts, so if the tax man ever comes calling (and he will!), you’ll have plenty of time to throw all your possessions into a fitted bed sheet, form a hobo bindle, and relocate to a new town approximately 1200 miles northwest of where you currently reside. You could use a change of scenery anyway, and I’m sure it won’t be too hard to resume your current job of mattress salesman in a new town. You needed a new bookie no matter what, so this move just makes a lot of sense for you at this time in your life.

Now it’s wholly possible you do make a profit while gambling on March Madness, but you would simply be an outlier. And if you were to come here flaunting your easy-earned cash on this here website, you would be dismissed the same way I dismiss everyone on the internet: by calling you a liar who was raised by coyotes. Telling us about your success is just a lose-lose-lose proposition.

So go forth, stock your fridges now while you still have time. Maybe pick up some shifts driving Uber to make yourself as liquid as possible for a weekend that will surely turn you into a solid. And remember, if anyone ever asks you about where you got your gambling advice, you’ve never ever heard of Black Heart Gold Pants and definitely didn’t read a column written by a guy wearing a bathrobe at 11 in the morning on a Wednesday while sipping on cold coffee and warm gin.