Jezebel March Madness Elite Eight: Seriously, Guys, What the Fuck

What the fuck is wrong with you? Yes, you.

To say that this year’s tournament was an eye opener would be an understatement; this year’s tournament between Internet and IRL has been more of a Scene From A Clockwork Orange Where At The End My Eyelids Get Physically Ripped Off And I Can Never Blink Again.

Is life really this grim? This joyless? Is private voting in a democracy an experiment destined to collapse upon itself like a dying star because human nature is bleak, dark and angry?

You absolute monsters have chosen motherfucking MEMES over both GChat and Twitter Fights Between Other People. You choose Binge Watching TV over Libraries, and Free Porn over Internet Stalking Potential Dates.

What the fuck. What the absolute fuck.

I’m very upset. We all are, to be perfectly candid. Kate has gone into her room and will not come out except to eat Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream with a child’s sand shovel. Madeleine has been crying inconsolably, more loudly than usual. Clover’s unflappable chill wavered for a moment. Nobody has seen Ellie in days. But, the tournament must go on.

First, in the Internet Social Division, fuckin’ Memes faces Emojis in a contest that absolutely epitomizes a lesser of two evils-type decision. Would you rather get punched in the tit or punched in the arm? I’d rather not get punched at all, but: arm. Sigh.

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Next, the Internet Antisocial Division, where things are slightly more interesting. Netflix, which has skated through its first rounds, faces its first real challenge in Free Porn. I’m not telling you how to vote here but: you can totally masturbate to either one.

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Halftime, starring Leland Palmer.

Onto the IRL side of the bracket, Social division, where Makeup faces perennial enemy-of-makeup, Sex. Isn’t it weird that makeup sometimes leads to sex, but that truly good sex absolutely obliterates makeup? Not really. Or maybe it is. I don’t care about anything anymore.

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IRL: Antisocial pits Binge Watching against Watching a Crying Drunk Girl Yell at her Boyfriend, this tournament’s Cinderella story and the last hope for reason, truth, and goodness in a world gone ABSOLUTELY FUCKING MAD. Please do the right thing. I am writing this from the edge of a bridge and I will jump off, I swear I will.

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Vote, or don’t. We’ll survive. Current Jezebel office live feed: