Watching the Packers is like visiting a friend’s relative’s house. An old lady greets you at the door and kisses both your cheeks and offers you a cheese log studded with toasted walnuts and dried cranberries, and it all seems very nice. And then she tells you that MS-13 is coming to sexually assault her grandkids if we don’t do something about the foreigners.
I’ve been to Wisconsin. I also lived in the next state over for the bulk of my adolescence. You know all about how fake Minnesota people are, but Minnesotans are merely the most acute example of general Midwestern pod people, Wisconsinites included. Packers fans are nice for roughly 1.5 beers, and then they turn into human rebel flags. I’m surprised one of them didn’t hunt down Rodgers with a bow when he said nice things about Muslims. These are brainless fat slugs inflating our healthcare prices and sucking our cheese reserves dry. They bask in their whole bullshit “community” status not because they want to welcome you in, but because they want to cast you out. Packers Nation is a cul-de-sac of odd-smelling ranch style houses, each one uglier than the next, with a loaded handgun and a pan of gross-looking seven-layer dip on every table. I hope Green Bay gets hit with an asteroid.
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deadspin.com
