We’ll be releasing our tremendous NCAA Tournament preview in the next few days. Frankly, though, we’ve had precious little time to work on it as we’re always inundated this time of year with invitations to join other people’s pools. So while you’re waiting for us to provide you with the definitive Tournament guide, here’s just a sample of some of the invites we’ve received.

Dear Friends, Family, and Business Associates,

This e:mail is to inform you that there will be no Final Four pool this year. In accordance with NCAA guidelines, I cannot and will not participate in any form of gambling, particularly those having to do with collegiate athletics. I deeply regret any appearance of impropriety my participation in the past may have caused, and assure you that I will do everything in my power to make sure this does not happen again.


Rick Neuheisel
Head Football Coach
University of California Los Angeles

p.s. – PSYCH! Ha, ha, got ya. The pool will be same as always, two hundy with winners going three deep. That bastard Paterno has won two years running, so let’s fill up that passion bucket fellas. Late.  


Hello Comrades,

I tell you, America is crazy country. Here we have tournament for champion of all the college basketball. In former Soviet Union, we have tournament to see who get to torture intellectuals. What a country! Of course that was 25 years ago, not so bad in Russia now. But still funny, yes? I know because funny man Borat take my act but make many, many, many millions of dollars, while I’m warming up for Fred Travalena in Laughlin. Yes, what a country, what a…goddamn country. I’ll tell you what we didn’t have in former Soviet Union, though – an NCAA pool! I beg, I mean I invite, you to join, because in America they take Geo from you if you don’t make pay for six months, so you need money for like…everything in this crazy, crazy country. Food, rent, treatment for severe clinical depression, everything. (Sigh) Christ do I miss Russia. Anywho, just send your bracket and $20 dollars to the front office of the Tumbleweed Motor Lodge in Winnemuca, Nevada. Please write “Does not contain cash” on the envelope. Cash only.

Yakov Smirnoff


I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by
            Kansas in the second round, driven hysterical mad,
dragging themselves through the Internet at dawn
            searching in vain for their twelve seed,
wrongheaded hoopheads burning for the dubious
            connection of field goal percentage to Tournament
who Tate George and Bryce Drew and Tyus Edney
            sat up contemplating the ruin of their brackets,
who shaggy white Northwest hipster lied weeping 
            with the mustachioed Morrison in the cruel Bruin night,
who Tequiza-fueled watched Duke flop like some hirsute Euro
            and were kicked out of Hooters by halftime.

What sphinx of baby fat, negativity, and liver spots did CBS
            let open the skulls of viewers and eat up their brains and
Packer! Vacuity! Fallaciousness! Asshole! Wet blankets and
            unobtainable seedings! Mid-majors screaming under the
            stairways! Nantz sobbing during commercials! Old men
            weeping in their living rooms!
Packer! Packer! Nightmare of Packer! Packer the
            loveless of all but his own voice!

Carl Solomon! I’m with you in San Antonio
            where you’re drunker than I am
I’m with you in San Antonio
            where you’re staring at the sweaters of Pac-10 cheerleaders
I’m with you in San Antonio
            where your bracket lies torn in a puddle of fresh tears
But still you must have your entry in by 9 a.m. Carl, and you must not take three months to pay me this time or your sweet beautiful ass will surely be breached by my vengeful foot. I take PayPal.

 Allen Ginsburg


Dear Friends and Family,

You probably wonder why I haven’t done our annual NCAA Pool, or really talked to and/or seen any of you, the past 2 years. The reason for that is simple. My ass has been stuck to a toilet seat. No, really, you may have seen it in the Ness City News or on CCN, I’ve been living in my ex-boyfriend’s bathroom for the past 2 years, just sitting on his toilet, and believe it or not the skin on my ass ended up molding around the seat. I only thought that could happen in movies on the Sci Fi Channel…though admittedly given the fact that my fucking ass has been stuck on my ex-boyfriend’s toilet seat for 2 years I haven’t seen much Sci Fi Channel. Or much of anything. Is “Invasion” still on? Anyway my court ordered psychiatrist thinks it’s smart for me to reacclimate myself to a world beyond crossword puzzles and Glade plug-ins so I’ve decided this would be a good start. Don’t think that this Tourney is going to be a breeze this year just because of my situation. Despite the fact that my ass has been stuck on my ex-boyfriend’s toilet seat for the past 2 years, even I know Kansas still can’t get past the Elite Eight (sorry Russ). So good luck, and in the interim I’ll try not to get my ass stuck on any other ex-boyfriend’s toilet seat for 2 years.

Woman whose ass was stuck on her ex-boyfriend’s toilet seat for 2 years

Ness City, Kansas


Greetings Fellow SNL Alum (I say doing my famous French Stewart impression…)

Sorry…give me a minute…I’m still laughing at my impression of French Stewart. Ok, I’ve composed myself. What’s up fellow former SNL stars and writers? It’s me Jimmy checking in to see how everyone is doing. I know I don’t get to talk to too many of you anymore, what with all of our careers taking off. It been this busy for anyone else? Last month alone I made a cameo on an episode of “According to Jim” and appeared at the Ulster and Tioga County Fairs. Also tough to stay in touch when you keep forgetting to invite me to those SNL reunion parties (Horatio and I always have the worst luck.) Anyway it’s time once again for the 8th Annual Joe Piscopo Memorial March Madness Tournament attempt. That’s right, it’s the 8th consecutive year I’ve attempted to start a pool with nary a response (except the year that one black guy…not Finesse…the other taller one…joined before dropping out a day before.) This year I’ve even uploaded a parody song I wrote onto the web page (it’s a reworking of Breakfast at Tiffany’s called How (the hell) do you spell Mike Krzyzewski?) So sign up…please…seriously I’m probably going to kill myself if I can’t even get Rob Riggle to join…

Go Tar Heels! Go Blue Devils!

Jimmy Fallon


  1. Bill says:

    The Ginsburg parody is wonderful, funny, excellent.

    Made my morning

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