SWEET-TASTIC

Day Four of the Big Dance Diary asks: Where have you gone ACC? 

STOP THAT. REWIND: I would like to shake the hand of the person who figured out how to rewind live TV. Genius. Pure genius. Here's how I watched the NCAA Tournament on Sunday.

11:10-11:30 a.m.: Opening of Syracuse-Arizona St.

11:30 a.m.-12:30 p.m.: Mass.

12:30-1:15 p.m.: Finished the Syracuse game. I watched the last 35 clock minutes of this game in 45 minutes. 

1:15-1:50 p.m.: Lunch and the beginnings of Xavier and Kansas games. 

1:50-2:50 p.m.: Watched an episode of Lost and talked to Tina. 

2:50-4 p.m.: Watched the entire Pittsburgh-Okla. State game. 

(I then went to the Hornets game and watched a tape of the late games.)

In summary, I didn't miss any of the coverage on CBS and yet got other stuff done. All through the magic of rewinding live TV. I just fast forwarded commercials and free throws. 

ELITE EIGHT: My entire Elite Eight still is intact. I'm so proud of myself. Wait a sec. That ain't shit. Everyone's Elite Eight still is intact. It's sad when the tournament Cinderella (Arizona) is a traditional national power. 

PLAY OF THE DAY: Louisville Coach Rick Pitino giving Sosa not one, not two, not three, not four but five swift, hard pats on the buttox after Sosa made a diving play in front of the bench. It was equal parts a) nice to see a coach appreciate a player's hustle and b) disturbing because Sosa wasn't standing when Pitino did it but rather laying on the floor, making it look like a father spanking his child. Play-by-play guy Verne Lundquist: "How bout that?" 

TINA'S BRACKET: Early Sunday, I asked Tina: How's your bracket?

Tina: I don't know. I think I fucked up yesterday. 

(Actually, she fucked up by putting Wake Forest in the Final Four. )

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom is trying to show me something on her phone while I watch the tournament from the couch. "Look at this. I got a fucking rip in my sofa." 

The phone problem is that mom was charged for three incoming messages from some random person. She didn't open any of the messages (until Sunday), but T-Mobile refused to delete the sixty cents from the bill Saturday. Bitches. "I got a fucking black woman on my phone." (Yeah. She sent mom a picture. No. It wasn't naughty.) "I don't know who the fuck that is." 

I tell mom that I'm about to leave for the Hornets-Warriors game.  

Mom: Who you going with?

Me: Bert.

Mom: Why don't you clean out those fucking bottles so someone can sit in your car." 

TV WEEK IN REVIEW 

Better Off Ted. I have a rule that I try to give every new network comedy a try. So, after Scrubs on Wednesday, I tuned in for the premiere of Better Off Ted. My advice: You're better off not watching this junk. It sucked. 

Life On Mars. I found out Friday that Life on Mars (probably my No. 3 show of the season) was cancelled by ABC, which apparently loves canceling inventive crime shows when you consider it also cancelled Pushing Daisies in the fall. 

For my part, I wrote a note on the official petition to ABC to bring back Life on Mars. My note was No. 7,204 to be written. The last line of my note played on two nicknames from the show: "Only a Spaceman with No Nuts would cancel this show." Take that, Joe Executive. 

My Name is Earl. I rather enjoyed Betty White's betrayal of Witch Lady, especially the opening prank pulled by young Earl. 

30 Rock. Ah, giving new meaning to BFF. I'll let you figure out what else that means. 

Scrubs. Liked J.D.'s new slogan for SportsCenter. J.D. (in girlie voice): SportsCenter: the place for sports!

House. The episode focused on whether or not a certain cat could predict death.  

House: We should have listened to Ted Nugent. 

Foreman: Yeah. It could be Cat Scratch Fever. 

PARTING SHOTS

On Saturday, D was telling a story about his past. I came in at the end. 

D: Something something something something, and I was something a brick layer. 

Me: Was that your nickname when you played ball? 

At the end of the shift Saturday. 

JRap: I'm not doing any of it. Blogs. Goobs. Nothing. 

Brick: If you're really good, you can blog your goob. 

Sandy: That's nasty. 

THE DAILY TOP LIST

Lights. Camera. Action.

30) A Day at the Races. 1937.

Getta your tootsie-frootsie ice cream. 

29) White Men Can't Jump. 1992.

I'm pretty sure I can hear Jimi. 

28) Die Hard. 1988.

Is the title character John McClane or Hans Gruber? Sure, it was hard to make McClane die, but at the end of the movie, Gruber actually died hard. 

27) All the President's Men. 1976.

When I first met Lopes, I nicknamed him Bernstein. The first of 27 nicknames he would go by. 

26) Sixth Sense. 1999.

I've seen people that are dead to me.