Friday, December 30, 2011


Feel free to post your own caption in the comments section, but I think EPIC FAIL really sums this one up.

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

My Early Christmas Gift From El_Prez29

Sifting through emails yesterday, after a typically fantastic weekend in Green Bay, I came across one from with the subject line: "Merry Christmas, Frank, thanks for your support". I opened it and proceeded to spit a mouthful of coffee all over my computer screen. Normally, this would frustrate me to no end...especially since I was still in recovery mode yesterday, but a java covered screen didn't bother me one bit.

Now, I know that Mark Murphy was a occasional reader of The Ranter. How do I know? Somethings you just know. What I didn't know was that Murphy was tracking my spending at Lambeau Field this past Sunday, as well as my extensive purchases at the Packers Pro Shop on Monday morning. I may not have spent $275 like a share purchase, but it wasn't far off. Being the great steward of the Packers that he is, El_Prez29, Mark Murphy, took it upon himself to reward me with one of my requests from my previous post. I never would have imagined he would have been able to set this up on such short notice, but it just goes to show you the power that comes with being the President of the Green Bay Packers.

This is what he sent in his email that had me spewing coffee all over my desk:

I told you they looked alike.

Thanks, Mr. Murphy, for recognizing that fans support the team in different ways, and thanks for rewarding us for that.

(PS - Big thanks to friend of the Ranter and frequent commentor, Johnny Vicious. I can't believe they posed for you for 6 hours to get this shot right. That's a long time to hold a wand.)

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

I Got Next...Maybe.

Happy New Packer Owners' Day to all those out there who purchased a part of the greatest organization in the sporting world...and to those who didn't, like myself. Unfortunately, due to attending the game this weekend against the Raiders and plans forming to attend at least one playoff game, the funding stream doesn't exist to actually BUY the team. Just visit.

While daydreaming about my upcoming firsthand view of the Carson Palmer "I-Should-Have-Stayed-Retired" Tour, I started thinking about what could entice me to me break the Hillside Federal Bank and contribute to the Lambeau Field expansion, not to mention broaden my investment portfolio.

I came up with a list of things that, had they been included with the Packers share mailed to my house, may have tipped the scales and enticed me to pull the trigger on a purchase.

  • One game per year that I control the music in Lambeau Field. Sorry, "Jock Jams," you're out.
  • The sauerkraut at one Lambeau food stand is called "Frank's Kraut". Wait, there's trademark issues with that name?!?!
  • A personal urinal for whatever game I attend during the season. No one else is allowed to use this urinal except me...unless they tell me an acceptable Bears joke, then they have a 45 second window to get in and get out.
  • Five whole minutes to take any picture I so choose with the Lombardi statue outside of the atrium. For anyone who has tried to do this, you know this is worth a lot...maybe more than one share.
  • A personal shopper at the Packers' Pro Shop that will guide me through the store. Not that I'm not familiar with it, I just want to get to Curly's sooner.
  • A tiny picture of myself displayed somewhere in Ted Thompson's office. It doesn't even have to be visible to visitors, just the fact that I know it's there is worth $275 for me.
  • A sponsored cold tub with daily reports on who uses it and for how long. Yes, as part of this ownership, I would do post-season cleaning of said cold tub. That is considered part of the purchase.
  • Souvenir, game-worn, ankle tape from a random Packers' player from each game. What would I do with this? I don't have the faintest idea, but I think it would be cool to say I have a pile of Packers'  ankle tape in my basement.
  • A Ted Thompson, draft-warroom-worn, pastel yellow, Packers button-down shirt. (I'd buy three shares for this)
  • A "Packers Shareholder" T-shirt autographed by the Packers' staffer who processed my stock purchase. I think it would make the share a much more personal possession then.
  • Mark Murphy to reenact a Ron Weasley scene from the one of the Harry Potter movies and post it on YouTube....What? They kind of look alike...they're both gingers.
  • A Christmas card from someone on the practice squad. It better sound heartfelt too.
  • A play drawn up by Mike McCarthy on a Lambeau Field napkin.
  • A taxi cab in Green Bay when I need it on game night...okay, that's selfish, I know NO ONE gets that.
  • The declassified file on why Tracy White was cut.
Hmmm...these all seem ver reasonable to me.  Maybe in 10, 15, 20 or 30 years when the next stock offering occurs, I hope to see one or two of these as an accompaniment to my share. (Please make it the last one)

Congrats to all the owners.

Friday, December 2, 2011

Top 9 Things to Avoid When Making a Packers Science Fiction Movie

The good ol’ Packer science fiction movie cliché. It’s as old as the Packer science fiction movie genre itself.

We at the Packer Ranter are sick of studios dumbing down our beloved Packer science fiction movies with clichés out of fear the movie will fail. That’s why we’ve put together a list of the top thing to avoid when making a Packers Science Fiction Movie. Now, eliminating these clichés is not going to solve the epidemic, but hopefully inspire a few more creative risks that will keep Packers science fiction movies entertaining and edgy for years to come.

1. Don’t make the QB/Aaron Rodgers the hero. Can you think of a more clichéd hero for your Packers science fiction movie? Rodgers is already the QB, MVP and face of the franchise. With Rodgers as the lead, the audience already knows he’s going to overthrow the dark overlords and free the digital slaves from having their memories completely erased. You want to pick a lead who's lesser known and somewhat edgy. Someone who you’re not quite sure about, but could see rooting for. Think Tom Crabree or Sam Shields, for instance. This will keep the audience guessing and give you the creative latitude you need when crafting your epic sci-fi thriller off the rings of Saturn.

2. No journey. A good sci-fi adventure will probably include some sort of journey. It's always important to make the destination some exotic planet or country. Coming from the Hoth-like Frozen Tundra, there should be a visit to a domed city or a warm-weather locale...or both like the Planet N'Awlins-7.89-Bourbalox.

3. Your spaceship should not be a giant football helmet. How many times have we seen a Packer sci-fi movie start out so promising only to disappoint in the space battle scene with flying Green and Gold helmets start swirling around like a bunch of Pacmen gone wild? That’s right, way too many. You really need to nail your Packers spacecraft for the battle with the Bears in the sky. Why couldn’t your spaceship be a winged team bus with supercharged engines? Or a flying version of the Atrium powered by Donald Driver’s shimmy? Your spaceship is really an opportunity to let your creativity soar – don’t disappoint.

4. Going back to change your Packers sci-fi movie, claiming to be updating it. The Packers team will change, adding and losing players, but your movie shouldn't. That's the cast you started with, that's the team at the time, stop tinkering with're ruining it. Rodgers shot first.

5. For the love of Lambeau, no more retro-futurist alien races! I’ve seen everything from farming, Amish-like communities to vintage 80s societies who like to break dance. Look around. Whether clothing or culture, our world is extremely diverse – why would your alien population be any different?

6. Bleeding is for sissies! Throughout your Packers sci-fi movie, your hero will undoubtedly get into some serious fights (let’s hope so anyway!). What normally happens is an exchange of violent blows in which either your hero or villain may get scratched but never really injured. Huh?? Last I checked football is a dangerous sport. Players get more than just nicked up, they experience serious bodily harm, season-ending IR or worse – your characters should be the same. So be sure James Starks’ arm is cut off if the villain slices it off with a plasma laser sword, Ok people? That will just make his eventual triumph that much more meaningful.

7. Ted Thompson as some cliched zen-like mentor/teacher character. That’s too easy. Instead have him be your ship's mechanic. He can have a few lines like, "We are always exploring options to upgrade the warp-drive" and "I like where our flight crew's at right now", but other than that he should just be covered in grease and scowl a lot.

8. Don't overlook the spaceship or other vessel as a character to be developed. When you can make the Kessel Run in under 12 parsecs, or you can make 70,000 people go out-of-their-minds-crazy when they hear a simple music riff or a song by Todd Rundgren, there is something to be explored there.

9. Overuse/reliance of the “Touchdown” celebration. Ok, we get it – people love a great touchdown celebration. And when you your Packer hero(s) finally blows up the Vikings mothership or renders Megatron futile, you’re going to want to celebrate. That’s fine – great even. Just don’t resort to Riverdancing on fallen enemies or pretending to photon-blast your mechanical thigh holster for a cheap thrill. Unless you can think of something truly original (risky), a simple fist pump or barbaric space yawp will do.

Did we get them all?

Monday, November 28, 2011

Great Greg

Most guys get by just being good.
For some guys though, that’s not gonna do.

Like this one Greg guy in Green and Gold
Gets after “great” like no other Greg before.

Greg’s goal is to just be great
And Greg gets after it every day.

Greg’s gifted with some great genetics,
But Greg’s greatness is no gimmick.

The gravity of Greg’s greatness is so genius,
Greg should get his own genre – believe it.

There’s no gap in Greg’s greatness.
If you say there is, well that’s just garbage.

Now give it up for your Greg – GREG!
Now give it up for your Greg – GREG!

G to the J all the way…

Greg Jennings y’all….

Be great Packer fans....

Monday, November 21, 2011

Jordy Kent?

Faster than a speeding bullet. More powerful than a locomotive. Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound. From Kansas. Parents are farmers. Received the Nice Guy Award at the annual Doug Jirschele Sports Awards Banquet in Clintonville, WI. (Okay, I can only confirm one got that, but I'm sure the other would qualify as well)

Look at the picture below. Now, close your eyes and picture Jordy in blue spandex and wearing a bright red cape. Not too far fetched, is it?

I have no idea if Jordy Nelson's arch-enemy is a bald, criminal mastermind who coached high school basketball in Indiana the fifties, but I ask you this: have you ever seen Superman and Jordy Nelson in the same place at the same time?

I didn't think so.

You be the judge.

Looks pretty good, but I prefer him in Green and Gold.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

My Apologies

Brett Favre thinks I should have posted something sooner.

Sorry. I'll get something this week.  I've been crazy busy.

Go Pack.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Packers Secret Halloween Party - Caught on Camera!

Yesterday the Packers held a private Halloween Party in a secret location outside of Green Bay. If you happened to be on Twitter from 2-4am, an unidentified user was sending out photos taken from the event earlier in the day. Thankfully, the Ranter intern staff was able to capture these awesome photos of the Packers in Halloween costumes before they were deleted from Twitter. Check ‘em out.
Donald Driver in epic homemade Death Star costume

John Kuhn as a vending machine

Desmond Bishop and Jordy Nelson ain't afraid of no ghost

Mike McCarthy, proud Trekkie

And everyone’s favorite Teddy, TT himself.

Who's YOUR favorite?

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Rant Club

This week, each one of you has a homework assignment, you're going to go out and make a Viking fan give you the AJ Hawk salute.


Okay, fine. I'm geting ahead of myself. 

The NFL hype machine has got us watching games that don't matter and hearing about players that can't play. There's no competition for the Packers, so we, as fans have become complacent. We're stuck complaining that Packers didn't score enough, that there were too many mistakes made even in overwhelming and convincing victory.

I see so much potential for more.

That's why we've formed Rant Club.

Rule number one of Rant Club: you talk about Rant Club ALL THE TIME. 

Rule number two of Rant Club: You. Talk. About. Rant Club. All. The. Time.

Rule number three of Rant Club: Someone yells, "Go, Pack!" you respond with, "Go, Pack!" Always.

Fourth rule: As many people Rant as want to Rant.

Fifth rule: One man on the grill at all times. You tailgate in all weather. 

Sixth rule: Green and Gold gear at all times...unless it's Throwbacks.

Seventh rule: Packers talk will go on as long as it has too.

Eighth rule: If this is your first time at Rant bring the beer.

Robert and I came to Rant Club for the first time, and our asses were wads of cheese curds. After a few weeks, we became tough, sinewy beef jerky. After Ranting, everything in your life will get the volume turned down.

Are you talking about Rant Club, yet? Good. Where's my beer?

I am Franklin's over-inflated sense of superiority due to being a Packer fan. 

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Aaron Rodgers at the Science Fair

Science is simply common sense at its best. ~Thomas Huxley

How can you argue with science? Answer: You can’t. ~Unknown

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Long Distance Request and Dedication

Congrats, Detroit Lions. You're 4-0. Big accomplishment. 

I dedicate this song to you:

The one thing about luck? It always runs out.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011


Attention span – I rarely have one. If you have a good one, congratulations. Like a lot of people, I am often easily distracted by the “shiny bunny” (that is, whatever louder, more colorful, or cooler-looking thing crosses my path). Sure, I blame society and pop culture and the media, but that’s for another Rant.

This lack of focus is usually not a problem when I’m at home or at my desk, and can hunt for the next shiny bunny – usually in the form of channel/web/radio surfing with occasional bouts of productivity and creative cooking. But it becomes an issue when my precious media devices and refrigerator are simply not accessible and I’m forced to just sit there.

Think lectures. Think church. Think meetings.

Let’s be honest, if the topic doesn’t interest you, what are you going to do? Sleep? No, you’re going to look around and daydream. Note: you can really kill some time harkening back to simpler times or brainstorming weapons of mass zombie destruction. While those remain some of my back-pocket options, my go-to daydreaming adventure – the thing I do most often in these situations – has got to be winging imaginary footballs off prominent objects in the room.

I simply cannot help it. A window. A poster. A lamp. A pattern on the wall. Someone’s melon. Hut-hut-hike! Whether I’m checking down off some dude’s drink, threading the needle at a podium microphone or throwing a bomb out of the conference center window, I’m peppering all these objects with tightly bound spirals of destruction… in my head. (You have no idea how much I crave a real football after these situations.)

To those people reading this who teach or monologue in front of others, if you see someone zinging imaginary footballs during your lecture, take it as a sign you need to work on your presentation skills. You’re welcome.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Emergency Protocol Enacted

Following today's torching of the Denver Broncos, we have learned from our sources deep inside the bowels of Lambeau that the Packers' equipment staff have been forced to enact Emergency Protocol 12.0

The Ranter has obtained a transcript of an exchange between a mid-level equipment manager and their supervisor shortly following the team's exit from the locker room.

"Sir, we have an issue here...I....I....I think it's time."
"Are you sure? You have to be absolutely positive before this happens."
"Sir, I think we need to do's not safe here otherwise, for him or for others."
"Okay. Okay. You know what to do."
"Yes sir. I will inform the others that we are....enacting Emergency Protocol Twelve-Point-O."
"We knew this day would come. You have all been trained for it.  Now is when you will rely on that training."
"Yes, sir. We are ready."
"Good. I'm confident you will make the Packers' organization proud."
"Thank you...ummm...sir?"
"How long does Emergency Protocol Twelve-Point-O last?"
"Well, your guess is as good as mine...but you've seen everything I have. There is no indication that this will stop....for a long time."
Pretty telling conversation, I thought.

For those of you wondering what Emergency Protocol 12.0 is, our crack research team has obtained a copy of the Green Bay Packers Top Secret Policy and Protocol Manual. (Don't ask how we got it. If we told you, we'd have to kill you. And we like you. All of you.)

On page 783, EP-12.0 is outlined:

"In the event that player #12 begins to display unnatural temperature levels on the field, specifically temperatures exceeding those any normal human should have, his uniform, pads, helmet, and cleats shall be removed from his normal locker and stored in the specially designed locker pictured below."
"Player #12's equipment should only be removed 30 minutes prior to the following week's game and then only by trained individuals wearing their protective high-temperature gear."
I think we all saw this day coming. I, for one, am glad that the Packers' equipment staff are well-trained for this event. Also, it looks as though we are dangerously close to enacting Emergency Protocol 85.0 and Emergency Protocol 21.0.

We, as fans, could be so lucky.

Stay safe, equipment staffers.

Friday, September 30, 2011

You're Suspect, Denver

This week isn’t Packers/Bears. It isn’t Packers/Vikings and it isn’t even close. This week, the lowly AFC Denver Broncos come to town probably just hoping to escape injury because they most likely aren't going to escape embarrassment. The intensity, smack and rivalry you look for in the NFL games just isn’t going to be there. That’s fine. We’ll take the win and start preparing for Atlanta.

That said, I thought it would be nice to come up with a few interesting things about broncos as a fun little filler piece. I figured I could talk about how the Ford Bronco was cool back in the day, get into the legend that is Bronko Nagurski, and maybe even joke how Kyle Orton looks like that nerdy kid from the mostly forgettable movie, Gentlemen Broncos (I already did the photoshop, so I’m going to show it, damn it).

But in my research, I came across something that at first made me read it twice, then turned me off, then boiled my blood. Did you know that the official symbol for the State of Wyoming is a cowboy on a bronco? That’s right, a bronco. You know the image I’m talking about – it’s a great one. I mean, this says it all – the Wild West.
So naturally, this begs the question, WTF Denver? Doesn’t Colorado have enough going for them already? Beautiful state, nice metro area, hippie adventure spots galore, etc. So why in the hell did Denver/Colorado steal the symbol of a bronco for their NFL team when it so clearly belongs to Wyoming?

I’ll tell you why – insecurity and insane jealously.

Is it just me or does Colorado seem to lay claim to just about any and everything that comes even remotely near their state? How about this so-called “Colorado” River? Only like 1/5th of the entire river system goes through their state. Or what about the Colorado Rockies. The Rocky Mountains cover numerous states, thousands of miles, and stretch further into Canada alone than through their entire state. Yet, Colorado’s crack tourism and marketing wizards took the cheap “I called it first!” route when naming their precious baseball team (yet another team name fail).

Look, I know Coloradoans’ only sense of direction is two-fold (toward the mountains/away from the mountains) and their main food groups are granola and tofu, but what right does that give them to adopt the Rockies as their own? And by the way, who names their team after a rock? Honestly.

You know what I think, Colorado? I think you're still pissed about your demarcation lines. Yeah, that’s right. Don’t think the rest of the world hasn’t noticed your unbelievable boring state shape – that of a rectangle. No one, and I mean NO ONE, wants their state to be a rectangle. I know it’s not your fault per se, but you didn’t have to take it out on Wyoming by stealing their state symbol. Now, what are they left with? A park.

But now that I look at the US map, the only other rectangular state is... Wyoming. NOW I’m starting see the bigger picture. This is your way of proving you are better than your “neighbor” to the North. The jealousy runs deeper than I thought, my friends. Colorado, in your quest to prove yourself appear more desirable than you actually are, you have made yourself look more cartoon than cool.

I take solace in the fact that there’s apparently two types of broncos. First, there’s the cool, retro broncos who live the majority of their lives in the wild, untrained and untamed. Those are the broncos you see in imagery for Wyoming as in the license plate above. Then there’s the “modern” bronco. This new-age bronco, while still strong and imposing, was bred and pampered to be showcased to the world. As Doctor Wikipedia says, these “Denver” broncos are nothing more than “spoiled riding horses.” You might lay claim to being the least obese state, Colorado, but you are certainly among the most spoiled.

Colorado? The Denver Broncos? Phhrrrt. Give me Wyoming any day of the week. They might not look like much, but at least they’re a quadrilateral with integrity. Enjoy getting your ass whipped Sunday, Denver.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Sit. Stand. Stay Home.

Robert and I had a blast a couple weeks ago in Green Bay for the Saints game. Some of our shenanigans cannot be discussed here, as I'm pretty sure we are now being monitored by numerous security agencies, both domestic and foreign. Don't worry though, my tin-foil hat will keep them out....and also all my thoughts in.

It has taken a couple weeks for the hazy green and gold glow to wear off, and while 99.65% of our experiences were positive, I began to have an uneasy feeling that all was not right during the 2011 Merry Ranters' Lambeau Adventure. I couldn't put my finger on it. It was like an itch that I couldn't scratch with an extra large BBQ tongs, a hunger that I could not satiate with a thousand bratwurst, a hangover that I could not weaken with a bucket of Bloody Mary's.

However, it all came back to me when I visited a local Packer bar to watch the Bears game. I ambled in, most likely smelling strongly of the previous night's libations. The hostess smiled and said, "Have a seat anywhere."

Have a seat....Sit....SIT DOWN!

I immediately started to sweat and shake with rage. The reason? Robert and I had an unfortunate experience at the Packers/Saints game, one that has occurred in prior years, but one that I had apparently repressed until this past Sunday. By some stroke of luck, Robert's aunt has amazing season tickets, and we are fortunate enough to be able to use them for one game a year. The issue we are faced with though is we have a large number of people behind us, namely everyone, and among these Packer fans are some very vocal curmudgeons. These individuals have taken it upon themselves to be Lambeau Field's volunteer ushers. Any time Robert and I would stand up, we would immediately be pelted with, "Sit down!" and "Down in front!" exclamations. At first, my tailgating courage allowed me to ignore these people and remain standing, but slowly, I realized that it would be best to just acquiesce as they would never stop and may turn to throwing things at fellow Packer fans. Several times I turned around to see who these jackwagons were, but they remained hidden and blended in with the sea of cheeseheads and jerseys, not courageous enough to make their location known.

By halftime, I had sufficiently been beaten down, and only stood when all others around had taken their feet. Well, tonight I've gotten my courage back, as well as my rage, and I have something to say to these people who feel the need to impart their self-created Lambeau-cheering protocols upon other Packer fans:


That's right. You've been spoiled by your season tickets. You no longer get excited by attending a Packers game like others do. You feel that because you go to every game, you can tell others how to cheer for their team. You know what? You can't, and I won't let you anymore. I like to cheer standing up, and that's my Saint Vince-given right. You prefer to sit on your fat, spoiled ass and watch like you are on your couch. Well, I say stay in your living room and tell your family and friends how to watch the game, not people you don't know who are enjoying themselves. You can watch your HD TV, drink your own beer, and eat your own food with no one standing in front of you for the entire 3 hours.

In the end, you'll be happier, and I sure as hell will be happier. You know why? Because I appreciate being at the game more than you do, and if I want to stand, I should damn well be able to do so without having a so-called Packer fan telling me to sit down. Certainly not one who yells "Sit down!" and then hides in the crowd.

Okay, I have to calm down now, it's bedtime, but in parting I have this message for you: Man the @$#% up...and stand the @$#% up while you're at it. The game is better from up here.

Friday, September 23, 2011


“My roommate’s melon is huge. He’s got this giant, blue, custom-made football helmet that was like $600. It’s true. The helmet was so abnormal that they didn’t offer returns so when he tore his MCL he was basically screwed because no one wanted to buy it – even on craigslist. Now it’s just sitting in his closet. We could just put a giant orange “C” on the side – it’s perfect.”

How big are we talking? We measured the circumference to be slightly over four feet, which is the likely the largest this side – if not both sides – of the Mississippi.”

“I don’t know but I’m telling you it’s enormous. He was once offered a job traveling with this freak show. They wanted to shave his head, dress him up like a supervillain and call him “The Brainiac.” His booth was going to be right next to this bodybuilder guy called the “The Veiniac,” a dude with hundreds of purple earthworm veins popping out all over his body. The only reason he didn’t do it was because they didn’t have a website and his dad told him never to trust a company without a website, which I kind of agree with.”


“Whatever you! Google Image Search “Veiniac” or “King of Veins” and you’ll get like a hundred results. They’ve got his arms next to Stallone’s and Maddonna’s in a few pictures too – puts ‘em both to shame. And he’s got a blog.

“Oh yeah, what’s the URL?”

“ You know, spelled V-E-I-N.”

“I get it. But if we’re really going to make a Cutler Bear/Pig Halloween costume we need a dang Cutler jersey. Even though he sucks and is douchey, they’re still pretty expensive.”

“We could always revisit Sloth Pig. I figure since Scuttlebutt already has that yellow tuft of hair we could just throw on a cheap Superman tee from Walmart, sweatpants, some red suspenders and we’re good to go.”

“Yeah, but the Superman “S” emblem is on the chest so it’d be facing the ground. People might not get that it’s Sloth unless you put the shirt on backwards but that’d just be stupid. I really think we should reconsider Cutler Bear/Pig. I know I can get that helmet.”

“You put a helmet on this pig and he’s gonna go nuts. Remember when we put a Santa hat on him for Christmas and he would not stop running around, squealing like someone was branding him with a hot poker. He stopped eating for a week and has since become incredibly skiddish about being touched on the head. And that was just with a Santa hat.”

“What kind of hat was it?”

“Santa, you idiot. I just said that.”

“No, I mean what material – you know, fabric? Yarn, cotton, velvet?”

“Dude, I don’t know. Cotton, I think.”

“You should’ve gone with hemp. Recent developments in the way they process it make it incredibly light and soft. I’ve got some hemp underwear and half the time it feels like I’m going commando – they’re that comfortable.”

“Just how much of a pothead are you nowadays? You’re always incorporating your hemp propaganda into everything, no matter how far it seemingly is from the realm of conversation.”

“That’s because it’s everywhere! There’s hemp paper, plastics, clothes, ah….food, fuel….ah….construction materials. Hemp seed can even be used as fishing bait! And it all comes from a single plant!”

“Whatever, you’ve changed. That’s what mom and dad get for sending you to the University of Boulder.”

“This coming from a temp! A freaking temp!”

“Least I got a job.”

“Fine. Cutler Bear/Pig.”

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Do You Choose Battle Or Truce?

A solitary man stands on a small ridge, his stoic face set in grim acceptance of what lies before him. A flag planted in the hard ground next to him whips in the stiff autumn breeze. The flag is simple, nothing more than a green background with several white diagonal lines crossing it. In the distance, the man sees a solitary figure moving toward him along the ridge, his silhouette outlined against the gray sky. His pace is neither fast nor slow, but steady and determined. The second man approaches the first, glances up at the flag, and simply says, “Ditto.” They nod to each other and turn to the broad plain stretched out before them.

A loud, blood-curdling scream erupts from behind them. Both men tense and reach for their swords as they turn. A third man, shirtless and painted completely in green with white diagonal stripes is sprinting towards them. Both men relax, and marvel at the long, flowing hair trailing the man, the mane in sharp contrast to the close-cropped, flat locks that adorn the crown of his head. He stops next to the two men, salutes the green flag, thumps his right fist to his chest and smiles, “It’s a great day for party.”

The three turn back and survey the expansive plain spread out before them. The first man grips the hilt of his sword, repeatedly twisting his gloved hand slowly around it, the other hand propped up on an enormous shield. The shield is scratched and battered, the large “G” adorning its front side barely able to be seen. The second man leans on an ornate longbow and flicks the bowstring absently as he stares ahead. The third man, alternately hopping back and forth on his bare, calloused feet, pounds a giant club into the damp turf, mud splattering with every impact. He carries no other weapon…other than a look of crazed anticipation, a look that has struck fear into the heart of many a battled-hardened man.

The three men stare ahead, undaunted by what faces them. Across a muddy expanse of grass strewn with cleaved helmets, broken spears, and rusted swords, all remnants of past battles, stands a horde of blood-thirsty warriors. These warriors are adorned in shiny, new battle garb. Much of their raiment still has the manufacturers' tags. Each warrior carries a handheld device, from which they rarely remove their eyes. At the rear of the army stands a giant screen, the images portrayed upon it are impossible to discern from actual living, breathing beings. Huge speakers blast what the opposing army must consider to be music, but to the three, it sounds like a mortally wounded dragon, screeching in pain as it slowly succumbs to its wounds.

The first man steps forward. He looks up the at the simple flag behind him and sighs before addressing the enemy horde. In a booming voice, the ruggedly handsome warrior begins to speak, "You have entered our lands without leave to do so. Yes, these are lands that we once shared. Yes, we have been allies in the past, but you have succumbed to a magic spell cast by a dark wizard. This wizard has succeeded in distracting you from what we both once shared, a need and love for a common castle and those that dwell within, as well as all that accompanied it: much food, flowing libations, and competitions of strength and skill. We have expressed our allegiance to the olden ways, a simpler time, when these competitions were more pure, and bright lights, loud music, and visions on a screen did not distract from these competitions. Our fondness for the plain green with stripes is not a rejection of the current state of affairs, but rather an appreciation of where the kingdom has come from. The appreciation of the old armor in shades of blue, gold, and brown is not an indication of disdain for the current green and gold."

The third man slams his club into the ground and whispers, "Are we going to do battle, or monologue them into submission?"

The second warrior chuckles, as the first continues, "Rather this is a way of honoring our forefathers and their subjects, brave men and women who have served this kingdom for eons prior to us. Respect for them is something to be nutured, not swept away and rejected. If you wish to ignore them, and move forward without them, scorning their ways and views as simplistic and backward, you will have to do so over our breathless corpses. You do not have to change and go back to their ways, but we will not be scorned for our belief that their ways must be honored."

Members of the warrior horde glance at each other, doubt slowly creeping into their minds. They...

Awww, jeez, I just can't keep this up...I LIKED THE PLAIN END ZONES WITH THE WHITE STRIPES. Sue me. I also love the throwbacks, brown pants, brown helmet included. You're free to disagree, but you'll have to do it while I wear my new Acme Packers winter hat.

Go, Pack. Now...who needs some mead?

Friday, August 26, 2011

Hear That? That's the Sound of Awesome Sauce

GOIBER (n.) An acronym, which stands for "Greenfield's Observations, Inventions, Brainstorms & Experiments Room." Also known as my basement.

GOIBER rule #14: No matter what the purpose of entry, bring enough sustenance* to last eight days – you never know what could happen.
*Acceptable forms of sustenance include, but are not limited to, jerky, water, alcohol, Cheez It’s® and gummi bears.

Good ideas can come from anyone. Great ideas require a little more – ingenuity, passion, the courage to forge ahead despite your family, friends, coworkers and trolls calling you a damned fool. That, and a secret room.

Some time ago, after getting twisted in my vacuum cord for the umpteenth time, I decided to do something about it. I locked myself for a week in my GOIBER, determined to formulate a mathematical solution for cordless electricity based only on the principles derived from the Faraday cage and Mortal Kombat’s Raiden. But I lacked true focus. Theories led to tangents which led to endless streams of disruptive equations. It was ugly. Then the Dirt Devil came out, and life was good again.

As a Packer fan, you are undoubtedly excited about the recently announced stadium expansion, which will create a so-called “wall of sound.” According to the Packers, these new 6,600 seats in the South End Zone will make a “tremendous impact on the noise level of the stadium.” To me it, it’s like sound on steroids (which, at the moment, cannot be tested but once enough stadiums adopt this practice, the regulatory dweebs with surely intercede...groan).

Until we experience this new and improved G-Force for ourselves, it will have to be left to the imagination. But as novice idea generator myself, I want to give the Packers their due props for this concept. It could, in some way, revolutionize the Lambeau experience – a thought so powerful one can only presume it came from the mysterious LOIBER (Lombardi’s Observations, Inventions, Brainstorms & Experiments Room) hidden deep within the bosom of Lambeau Field.

Well done, Packers. Well done indeed.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Dominating Trees - Live at Stadium View 2011

Trolling the interwebs yesterday afternoon, I was insanely pleased to find out that the Indomitable Brian Carriveau has begun his Best & Worst Case Scenario series over at Cheesehead TV. If you are unfamiliar with these pieces, Brianimal takes each position group on the Packers and gives the best and worst possible outcome for each player for the upcoming season. Yesterday, he attacked my favorite position: the tight ends.

I'm not usually one to criticize anyone else's writing or opinions, or even their choice of favorite cheese curds (I mean you've seen some of the stuff I've written here, it's amazing the Guardians of the Intertubes even let me on the internet). However, I found one small omission from Brian's piece on the Packers' tight ends, an omission I thought important enough to share with Packer fans. This omission comes under the "Best Case Scenario: Tom Crabtree".  Knowing Brian's thoroughness (he's a good man and he's thorough), I'm sure this second paragraph was edited out due to space concerns against his strong arguments. We here at The Ranter have no such space restrictions, and we felt we should share this potential scenario for Mr. Crabtree.

Tom Crabtree
Best Case Scenario (Paragraph 2):

In addition to his work on the field, Tom starts a three-piece alt/metal band called, The Dominating Trees. The Trees, as they are known to their loyal fan base, get a standing gig playing at Stadium View following Packers' home games. Starting out playing Jane's Addiction covers, Tom (lead guitar, vocals) begins writing his own songs. The Trees gradually work these into their set list and receive favorable responses from the drunken revelers celebrating Packers' victories at Stadium View. One of these songs, "Crabmeat", starts getting requested more and more. Noticing this popularity, record mogul Aaron Rodgers invites The Trees to his studio during the bye week. They record four original songs, and distribute the album to Green Bay radio stations. The response is positive, but it doesn't reach much farther than Wausau. However, due to Tom's prodigious promotion on Twitter, "Crabmeat", catches on nationally. The video, a live taping at Stadium View, goes viral on YouTube, and sales on iTunes skyrocket. "Crabmeat" eventually debuts at #79 on the Billboard Charts. With the increased exposure of a 2nd Super Bowl appearance, and strong showing there: 3 catches 46 yards and a TD, The Trees are able to schedule a four state midwest tour in the Spring of 2012, culminating with an appearance with punter and funnyman Chris Kluwe's band, Tripping Icarus, at First Avenue in Minneapolis.

All in all, a good year for Tom Crabtree.

Keep up the great work, Brian!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Put Me At the Kids’ Table – I Don’t Care

Dear Green Bay Packers Representative,

Did you know that recent studies have indicated that it’s almost impossible to coordinate schedules of more than 20 working professionals at a time? Pretty sad state of affairs these days, eh? And while an impactful reminder of the modern proliferation of sometimes fruitless commitments and meetings, this scientific data harkens to a more relevant topic: your trip to the White House this Friday.

With a contingent of over 100 players and personnel in the Packers organization scheduled to attend, it’s reasonable to expect that several people simply won’t be able to make it. This could make for quite the awkward situation with the president wouldn’t you say? I mean, can you imagine the leader of the free world up at the podium, riffing on the Packers/Bears rivalry and then suddenly seeing empty seats in the audience!? Talk about traumarama!

To help you prepare and cover yourselves, I would like to propose a solution: ME. That is, consider my hat thrown into the proverbial ring of substitute attendees. As a lifelong Packer fan, I will gladly serve the organization by assuming one of the empty seats and help you avoid embarrassment.

I can send pics and a resume, but take my word that I would fit in. Physically, I’m no Don Driver, but I am no suburban slouch, either. I can run a mile in under 8 minutes, do 30 pushups (probably) and have been complimented on more than one occasion on my calf definition. In other words, you’ll probably want to put me with special teams. If that doesn’t work, just say I’m an equipment intern. Heck, put me at the kids table – I don’t care. I’ll even bring my own chair and bust out my tuxedo.

In addition, here is a short list of other worthy substitutes, all of whom I have researched thoroughly and possess the qualities being a team player, obedience and major Packer pride you are looking for while being represented at our nation's capitol.

Franklin Hillside. Not only is he Editor in Cheese, his knowledge of vintage Green Bay restaurant uniforms can carry a conversation until the sun comes up over Pennsylvania Avenue.

Alex Tallitsch. Sure he’s ornery and stubborn, but he’s only of only two people who knows what it feels like to wear Tom Crabtree’s Super Bowl ring.

Tracy White. Let’s be honest – he was the best player in the history of special teams. We could all finally be at peace with Ted Thompson’s most egregious mistake by inviting this incredible super-man for a nice meal.

Please confirm my attendance by Thursday night as I would have to withdraw from Anduzzi’s deep-fried butter eating competition and get a dog sitter.

Your loyal servant,

Robert Greenfield

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Caption Contest

Apparently Pee Wee Herman “stopped by” Cowboys training camp last last week. Why? No reason was given, which makes for the perfect opportunity to make something up! Just look at Cowboys' owner Jerry Jones - he seems to be just glowing while getting this picture next to (a now 60-year old) Pee Wee Herman. That should be PLENTY to go off of.

So, have at it - post your best caption in the comments section. There's no prize, but if we get a bunch of comments, we're all winners.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

We Didn't Start the Fire

I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for our lack of posts over the past 5 months. While Robert and I should have been gloating over the Packers ascension to the peak of NFL dominance, the lockout had successfully crushed our creative juices...that, or maybe we just got lazy, fat, and drunk. Something about losing your edge when you have nothing left to prove?

Let me tell you something, fat and drunk (we will never admit to stupidity) is no way to go through life. We realized we needed to get back in shape, and fast.  So to get back to peak form, Robert and I embarked on a rigorous training regime by competing in a Fantasy Writing League. The league was really just Robert and I, and by "Fantasy" I mean we wrote fantasy stories about Gwarnac The Battle Dwarf and his rag-tag group of freedom fighters. "Long live, GWARNAC!" Okay, okay, if there's one thing I've learned, no one outside of your league wants to hear about your fantasy team, so I'll move on...

Robert's greatest pastime, other than his prolific dating, is building fires. The last time we went to his cabin, he and our buddy Brats (Yeah, that's his real name.) played in the fire pit for hours. Amid the shrieks of joy and explosions of flame, it was hard to tell if the two had ever had more fun in their lives. Therefore, I thought I would try that here. It's not like I can burn The Ranter down, right? I'll be safe about it and take a page from Robert Greenfield's Book of Outdoor Lore, page 37, paragraph 3: "So you want to keep a fire going? Throw some gas on it!"

Here's the fire: Nnamdi Asomugha to the Packers. This fire of absurdity seems to be burning through the interwebs lately. Sure, this fire warms the body and mind with thoughts of an impenetrable phalanx of Packers' defensive backs. Im. Pen. E. Trable. What is already a great defensive backfield, would be the best, by a large margin. I know what you're thinking: "Is this guy actually going to jump on board this rumor that would bring the highest priced free agent to Lambeau in 2011? He certainly doesn't have any sources with knowledge of the situation. However, he does look fairly gullible, though, and could just believe everything he reads...maybe he really is going to try to give credence to this rumor."

You're right, I don't have any sources, I can be gullible, and I'm pretty sure "The Lord of the Rings" is non-fiction, but even I can't get behind this rumor. It's so far outside of Ted Thompson's modus operandi that he's more likely to bring me in for a tryout at left guard then do this, so I will not being adding fuel to it...
... know what?  If there's one thing that I've learned through the course of Ted Thompson's tenure, it's that the only thing that would surprise me is if he didn't do something that surprised me. If I woke up with my head sewn to the carpet, it wouldn't be more surprising than him signing Nnamdi Asomugha....and that's just enough reason for him to do it. Well, there's your gas on the rumor fire. I hope your singed eyebrows grow back quickly.

Post Script - I have heard from my sources that in addition to this signing, Ted will most likely trade BJ Raji, demote Mike McCarthy, put a roof on Lambeau Field, and start a yoga studio in Appleton. Someone throw some gas on these fires too....

Monday, July 25, 2011

Chico Suave

Made this months ago, just never posted. With the lockout ending, seems like a great time to celebrate.

For those of you who don’t know, Aaron Rodgers is from Chico, California and Clay Matthews is a spokesperson for Suave hair products. Add the championship belts they’re holding, and you have the formation of the NFL’s best tag team duo: CHICO SUAVE.

Go Pack!

Thursday, July 7, 2011

PSA From The Ranter Ministry Of Information

I have a good feeling this lockout nonsense will be resolved soon. I think the 6 of you reading this should too. My anger at both sides and fear of lost games has subsided, and now I'm just waiting. However, should I find my faith wavering, I'm just going to look at this piece of propaganda from The Ranter Ministry of Information and chill out. 

You should do the same. Carry on.

Monday, June 27, 2011

In the Lot

She was busty and bubbly and all sorts of feisty. Along with her menthol-smoking meathead boyfriend who supposedly knew Tanker, she had stopped by our after-party tailgate tent. Char was her name. I especially remember that because I jokingly called her “Charcoal” upon meeting her. She scowled and snapped, “the last asshole to call me that was in 7th grade and I knocked him in the nuts so hard he had to go home for the day.” I was in love.

It was week 5 of 2005 and the Packers hadn’t given much to cheer about up to that point. The Saints came into town and we took out our 0-4 frustrations on them by lighting them up 52-3 on a pleasant early October afternoon. The game felt over well before halftime and the Packers put it on cruise control the rest of the way, giving Tanker and I plenty of time to get back to the tent and get things ready for the usual run of maniacs who liked to stop by and have a few and maybe dance and little, too.

“Just look for the boxers!” This is what we told people to look for – the XXXL pair of yellow Packer boxers we strung up atop a twenty-foot pole by the tent. “Or listen for the G&R!” I added, already thinking about popping in Appetite for Destruction as soon as we got back.

Soon, I noticed Char bouncing toward the tent and singing along to “Sweet Child of Mine,” a good sign if there ever was one. She pounded the last third of her beer and flicked the can ten feet whirling into the garbage, another good sign. I popped another one and handed it to her, which she graciously accepted. We introduced ourselves and after she told me about her famous middle-school swift kick to the testicles of yesteryear, we eventually bonded both over our shared appreciation of Tony Fisher catching balls out of the backfield and our hatred of BJ Sander and the pathetic punting situation.

The normal crowd was there, too. Creeper, Lefty, Bowler, Stiffy, Big Pop, Sandypants and Candy Corn had all stopped by as planned and imbibed and ingested and altogether consumed the party at hand. Normally, this would’ve suited me just fine but the bright prospects of this new chick called Char fixated all my energies. Thankfully, the guy she came with seemed more interested in bean bags and beer bongs that he left Char fend for herself among a crowd she didn’t know. But she handled everything like a deep-fried sprinkled cupcake – that is, nice to look at, easy to get along with and tons of fun all over.

I had just cockblocked Creeper’s sloppy advances toward her by blaring “The Bears Still Suck” and motioning her to dance. She started swinging my way and things were looking good with makeout potential when all of the sudden her douche-canoe Newport 100 Neanderthal stepped in and said it was time for them to leave. It was clear Char was bummed because of all the fun but they were late for something else possibly just as great. I got a hug and she told me to stay cool and she hoped to see me down the line. I stood there as she walked away listening “the Bears still suck, the Bears still suck, the Bears still suck” taunting and couldn’t help but think that guy is the one who sucked and her relationship with him sucked and now this tailgate party sucked and now I was going to have a sucky time the rest of the sucky afternoon.

I got ripped and barked around the parking lot for a Roman knuckles match with some beer-bellied bruiser and maybe some pickled perch – something powerful to distract me from the heartbreak I was experiencing. But the buzzkill burned and I scared away the kid from Kimberly by beating my chest like a crazed gorilla. I eventually lumbered back to the tent where Tanker had picked up and was ready to go.

“Where were you?” he asked. I had no response. It didn’t matter. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” And Tanker handed me a receipt for hamburger buns from the Piggly Wiggly.

On the back was a hand-written number, a smiley face, and “Charcoal” written in cursive.

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Top 20 Reasons To Prolong The Lockout

The other day Max from over at Purple Pants Green Jersey mentioned that he was fed up with everyone writing Top Ten lists in the absence of any real football news. Despite his frustration with the many lists being made, he indicated he would read a Ranter list.

It may not be exactly what you asked for, but here you go, Max. Don't say we never you gave you anything.

Top 20 Reasons to Prolong the Lockout:
  1. People love to complain. Love it. Myself included. If the lockout ended, everyone would have one less thing to complain about. Sad.
  2. No preseason games.
  3. If there's no football, baseball will once again become America's pastime. A sport where tobacco products are openly used, crotch-grabbing is encouraged, and awful facial hair is a part of the uniform should never have left the top spot. (In all seriousness, I love baseball but not on Sundays in the Fall)
  4. Those team employees were making way too much money. It's about time the owners have a legitimate reason for cutting their pay, slashing their benefits, and enforcing furloughs. Well done owners. I mean, in a multi-billion dollar industry, the guy with 3 kids, making $40K a year is a real problem. NFL owners aren't welfare agencies after all.
  5. If there's no football, the Green Bay Packers will be World Champs for eternity...which is as it should be.
  6. As long there is no season, none of the numerous Packers now on Twitter can institute a "no-tweeting-during-the-season"policy. 
  7. I've almost perfected the Sunday morning pot of coffee and cover-to-cover paper read. If the lockout ends, this diligent work will be tossed out the window. My Sundays will consist of watching countless hours of pregame, agonizing over fantasy football decisions, and prepping food for the game....or heading to a Packer bar, in which case the whole day is shot, most likely leading to a rough Monday morning, or rougher Monday morning than usual.
  8. No Cris Carter.
  9. Still no Cris Carter.
  10. "I eat Green Berets for breakfast. And right now, I'm very hungry." Sorry, that has nothing to do with the lockout, but Commando is on TV at the moment.
  11. I can avoid the mind-numbingly boring drive from Minneapolis to Green Bay and back again on Highway 29. The awfulness of this drive is only accentuated when it's made on a Monday morning after a late night victory celebration at Stadium View. 
  12. I really, truly enjoy doing household chores on Sunday. Really. Love it. I would never, ever, want something to come between me and a vacuum cleaner, lawn mower, washing machine, toilet bowl cleaner, or weed whacker. Football does, and I hate football for that reason.
  13. With no football, my conversations with people will focus on quantum physics, the writings of Thomas Paine, organic chemistry, and the poetry of Keats and Byron....or at the very least why Ron Swanson is the greatest character on TV. Diversifying my conversation topics will be good for me.
  14. The offseason is the time of joyous optimism for the Detroit Lions and their fans. And why shouldn't it be? They have the same record as everyone else, and everyone is healthy. However, every year once the season starts their hopes and dreams come crashing back down to earth. With no lockout, this optimism can continue uninterrupted. Detroit needs this. (This one was for our newest South Florida reader who happens to be a Lions fan. We can't all be perfect.)
  15. An extended lockout will give me more time to ponder and document Tracy White's latest feats of strength, wisdom, and virility. The list is long and ever-growing...
  16. This may happen. (Great idea, David)
  17. More lists! Sorry, Max, I love lists. Especially really meaningful ones.
  18. With no football, there's no fantasy football, so I won't have to keep beating Robert in the semi-finals of our league. I really think being so close and coming up just short of the Championship is getting to him. What did he expect, though, when he drafted Favre last year? 
  19. They say that necessity is the mother of invention, with no football, someone may invent the greatest new sport since Frisbeer.
  20. YOU KNOW WHAT?!?! @#$% IT! The longer you drag out this lockout, the better the chance that I could end up not caring about the NFL in the least. Not caring would save me time, money, and stress, not to mention the fact that I would probably lose 20 pounds from not eating my weight in bratwurst and drinking enough beer to kill a medium-sized horse every season. DAMN! I could be so lucky. So go for it. Keep it up. See where it gets you. I'm betting I'm not the only one that will walk away shaking my damn head.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The 2011 NFL Equipment Intern Draft

Lost in all the hubbub of the NFL Draft was the annual Equipment Intern Draft (EID). Each year, hundreds of applicants enter this draft in hopes of landing a coveted internship position on a real NFL teams’ equipment staff. For those unfamiliar with the EID, the process is very similar to the NFL Draft in that all 32 teams pick in reverse order of the previous year’s standings – meaning the Panthers had the #1 pick while the Packers had the #32. But unlike the NFL Draft, each team is only allowed one intern and thus it the draft consists of just one round.

Held in an undisclosed location on the East coast, the 2011 EID was attended by several HOF Equipment staffer such as a ‘Cranky’ Ted Dabole and ‘Jock Strap’ Kennedy. All 32 teams were represented including legendary Packers’ Equipment Manager Gordon ‘Red’ Batty, who has been with the organization the last 17 years.

EID week kicked off with the equipment version of the combine in which candidates undergo grueling physical tests such as sorting piles of game-used uniforms and the ever-popular helmet-waxing competition. Add to that a series equipment dilemma scenarios (Player X hates his shoes…and you!, etc.) and you can see why 30% of the candidates don’t make it past day two.

The day of the draft is unlike any other. There’s food to go along with every type of Gatorade known to man. The ceremony was kicked off with a sweet montage of the evolution of the shoulderpads and capped with the unveiling of the P7, a patent-pending solar-powered hybrid sock washer/dryer combo prototype, expected to become league-wide standard in 2014.

Carolina was first on the clock. Most teams generally take their entire 30 minutes to go over every last detail of the prospects and review trade offers. In an unprecedented turn of events, the NFL Equipment Commissioner approached the podium with those five famous words: “There has been a trade.”

“Green Bay has traded up from the number 32 pick in exchange for Carolina’s first overall. Green Bay will give Carolina this year’s 32nd pick as well as their draft picks for the next five years. And now, with the first selection in the 2011 NFL Equipment Intern Draft Sponsored by Riddell: The Official Football Helmet of the NFL, the Green Bay Packers select….James Jobworthy.”

As customary, a video profile of the selected intern is shown. Due to NFL trademark restrictions, I was only allowed the transcript:

James “Jimmy Job” Jobworthy is a graduate from Penn State’s storied “Equipmentlethics” sports equipment program. He holds degrees in both Inventory Management and Sports Equipment Philosophy. Like most equipment prospects, Jimmy Job has been water- and ball-boyin’ since puberty. He has been described as a ‘go-getter,’ ‘an invaluable asset to any equipment staff’ and possesses uncanny ability to customize shoes. His senior thesis “The Things We Could Do, But Don’t For One Reason or Another” about personalized jersey folding has since been adopted as best practice by the NFL’s Equipment Forum and has inspired two screenplays.

James "Jimmy Job" Jobworthy Analysis: It’s so hard to give equipment draft grades. Yes, on paper this looks like a steal – even mortgaging the future for this guy. It’s clear the kid’s got spunk and I believe he will do very well. But it would be hard for anyone to fulfill these lofty expectations. I truly wish him the best. I’ll give the Packers an “A” for now but ask me to regrade in 10 years.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

We're All Getting Sick of This Crap

Hey, owners, players, judges, lawyers, and whoever else, get something done. Now.'re still reading this? I thought I said get something done, and I thought I said now!

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Need Green Bay Lodging on the Cheap?

Robert and I noticed there was some anger and disappointment following the release of the 2011 Packers schedule. This anger stems from Packer fans being subjected to overpriced accommodations while staying in Green Bay during game weekends. This price increase would be justified if the level of services and amenities were raised, but I have my doubts that the Motel 6 will not only leave the light on for you, but they will stock your mini-fridge with Spotted Cow, fresh cheese curds, and beef sticks, and also provide you with a limo ride to 1265 complete with champagne and bratwurst. It's gotten to be somewhat out of control. Most fans, myself included, can't drop a mortgage payment on two nights in a lumpy bed. Therefore, Robert and I have put together a short review of a hotel... ummm... motel... ummm...building where we stayed one year. We believed that the savings accommodation would allow for our limited funds to be used on food, drink, and petrol, which they did. So, if your liquid assets are dwindling, you might consider Green Bay's Economy Inn. Might being the operative word.
Looking for an alternative to the price-gouging done by chain hotels during Packer game day weekends? Look no further than the $40 a night Economy Inn of Green Bay. Who knows what kind of exciting people you'll meet during your stay? Drug dealers, women of the night, criminals and generally seedy characters of all kinds lurk and loom in the dimly lit hallways, traveling in and out of their rooms like drunken worker bees at all hours of the night.
The rooms have an interesting design scheme with lime green painted cinder-block walls, mismatched bedspreads, and shadeless lamps. The smell of stale cigarettes, sweat, and and cheap booze permeates the room (and your clothes when you leave). The bathroom, while not dirty, wasn't exactly clean, but according to Robert, it was spacious and offered plenty of room to kneel and even lay down!
For those time-crunched and celebration weary travelers, checking in and out is a breeze. Sure you may have to scribble a signature when you arrive, but at the Economy Inn, identification is not required. In the morning, simply hand off two Andrew Jacksons on your way to your car (provided it's still there) without any questions asked, despite whatever loud, ominous screams that may or may not have been reverberating the hallways the night before.
Other $40 motels just cannot match the total hospitality package that includes a key, gravel parking lot, fecal smell and general feeling of being robbed at knifepoint at any time. Oh, and if you have anything you may not want anymore, a camera, CDs, a half empty case of beer, just leave it in your car, it's sure to be gone in the morning.
Hope this review helps when you are weighing your lodging options in Green Bay. We're not convinced it will, as most of our readers seem to have a slightly more advanced level of common sense then we do, but oh well. Go Pack!
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