Some people weren't too pleased about my treatment of cheese heads earlier. The ol bf's roommate, a native of the land of cheese, was riled up enough to write back a Wisconsin style rebuttal. If you want to read more of his Wisconsinish witticisms, make sure you check out his blog, Cream City MSTP, about the trials and tribulations of becoming a double doctor.
A few weeks ago, I was asked to serve as the inaugural first quasi-annual guest blog post author guy of KTA, a title I have been secretly pining for quite some time.
For those who aren't aware, KTA provides a valuable niche service, in that it informs and offers opinions on the happenings in pop culture. I often catch myself wondering why there aren't more blogs to handle this, but then I rationalize that it must be because the author does such a great job. [ed. note: you rationalized correctly.]
The blog is miraculous. Hence, you can understand the shot that was taken at the great state of Wisconsin, an assault I will be spending the majority of my time addressing in a new segment I am hereby dubbing
Raman Kutty's Inaugural First Quasi-Annual "Wisconsin is Better Than You Bitches" Guest Blog Post.
I'm sorry but You asked for this.
1. Wisconsin. The University.
The best party on the planet has been draping Badgers in cardinal and white since 1848 and shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. How much better is Wisconsin than you, you ask?
Sorry, your silly little school ain't crazy enough for me.
2. It's both size AND how you use it.
Chicagoans, for some Godforsaken reason, are enamored with their hot dogs. I do not understand this (although I do suspect Penis Envy). What, you put a pickle on it and now it's the shit? No, it's not. Allow me to explain:
While you southerners were getting all excited about your franks, the Germans of Wisconsin were working hard on something far better: the Bratwurst. The comparison between the two goes something along the lines of a Mickey Avalon song. The Brat is "mine" and the hotdog is, well, "yours".
Also, it's what you do with it. Chicagoans are all about sitting around eating it or doing whatever it is they do. I'll let you in on a secret: tailgating. No one does it better than Wisconsin. It is something that ties our entire state together. Hunters and PETA, Gays and Evangelicals, Kanye and Taylor Swift...they all can get together for a good ol' fashioned tailgate. Additionally, there is always one happening. See: Green Bay Packers, Milwaukee Brewers, UW-Madison sports, fishing, etc. Throw in a game of bags and a brewski or two and it's pure magic.
Oh boy, look at THAT.
Further, ketchup goes on a hot dog. Kraut and mustard go on a brat. Please accept this so we can move on. [ed. note: for the record, ketchup does not go on a hot dog.]
3. Even your criminals suck.
Most notorious Illinois criminals? Al Capone, Blagojevic...blah blah blah. All of them didn't really do anything novel, they ran gangs, sold senate seats, etc. Hell, even I've done that, and I'm a med student. Whatever. Ed Gein made lampshades out of PEOPLE (in all fairness, it really did bring the room together). Jeffy Dahmer? Google it.
4. Chris lives here.
Not that i feel this is a terribly important point, but you can't argue it and like him at the same time.
5. Illinois is a wasteland.
You know this. I know this. Proof? You FIBS love to complain about how awful the state is, yet we're overwhelmed just counting the cash after you leave every summer. If Illinois is so effin great, go vacation there. You know this isn't true and that's why you're hanging out in the Dells, Waupaca, the north woods - essentially all over this great state (much to my personal dismay). The sooner you admit to your inferiority, the better off we will all be. [ed. note: did you really just cite THE DELLS when arguing why Wisconsin is better???]
But what do I care? I mean, this additional tax base only helped to pay my cover fee to the greatest party on earth (see #1). Thanks!
6 (BONUS!) Population statistics.
Coasties are native to your state. They are not to Wisconsin. It's atrocious and I strongly suggest you do something about it. Wisco: Coastie free. Game, set match.
I will, however, concede that we do often smoke more than we eat. I've gone through a pack just writing this damn post, and with the prices we pay for cigs these days, it's no surprise that us poor huddled Wisconsinite masses choose smokes over food. You would too if you were as poor, uneducated and useless as we are.
So, that concludes Raman Kutty's Inagural First Quasi-Annual "Wisconsin is Better Than You Bitches" Guest Blog Post. With that out of the way, I can serve as a KTA-Tell-All and fill you in on a piece of news that has been bugging me for some time now.
Ok, so here's the deal: let's rewind to early 2008. Brett retires. Well, no not really. Ok yeah he did. No, he's coming back, but going to the Jets. Anyway, while playing for the Jets, Deanna let him off the leash just long enough to meet the fine Ms. Jenn Sterger of FSU fame. Apparently she wasn't much into him, but being the fierce competitor he is, he went for her anyway. Fast forward to 2010: news breaks that Bretty texted pictures of Little Brett to Sterger. October 2010: alleged pictures released on the website Deadspin.
A few observations, if I may (and I will, con mucho gusto):
1. Seriously? What was your thought process here, Brett? "Well, she wasn't a big fan of my insane career and southern personality...think Brett, think....GOT IT! DICK PIC!" In the words of Ed Lover, "C'mon SON!" Getthefeckoutofherewiththatshitbrett.
2. Ineffective and moronic decisions aside, has this ever worked? I'm not the right person to ask here, but I feel that if a lady got that in her inbox, there's little reason for her to feel compelled to make a move on it. After all, she knows it's there...whatever.
3. People are arguing that it's not actually Brett, instead some impostor who was messing with a) Brett Favre b) Jenn Sterger c) the Jets and d) the American public. That's stupid. And I can prove it's not true. Here's how:
Ever been in a locker room before? For those of you that have not, towels are...optional. In other words, there's an offensive line or two who have seen Little Bretty plenty (and I'm not insinuating that he sexted them too...though that would be RICH beyond words). I have yet to hear anyone step up and say, yeah, I've seen the real thing, those pics ain't the real deal. Granted, it may raise a few eyebrows, but for a bunch of guys who get paid to take shots to the head to protect him, a shallow homoerotic accusation is to be taken in stride.
4. As a future clinician, it would be well to discuss the effect this is having on Brett's game. After all, that's the point of a guest writer, right? Anyway, if you missed the Monday night game this week, you either a) missed nothing (aka, are from Minnesota and therefore are a moron) or b) missed a meltdown. Brett was shaky, uncoordinated and generally not himself - that is, until the 4th quarter where he got it together and threw a game-ending INT, true to his usual form. This isn't surprising as these symptoms are indicative of Stergeritis; look for a forthcoming case report in JAMA next month, authored by none other than yours truly. Unfortunately, the prognosis is grim and will eventually lead to liquidation of 50% of his assets, amongst other malignancies. Undoubtedly, bed rest is the best course of action, as the patient is historically sensitive to vicodin.
That's all for now folks. Check back here for more pithy posts, and moreover, check out creamcitymstp.blogspot.com for the perspective of a not-so-soon-to-be MD/PhD. Peace, Love and screw the Bears.