Wisconsin go Bragh

I'm sure some other "writers" are feverishly penning some attempt at our weekly Hate Piece. I'm sure of it. For if there's one thing the OTE "writers" never do, it's completely flake on Wisconsin week. Or Minnesota Week. Or (insert hapless team from the West) Week. Until that moment when my fellow wielders of the digital quill finally lurch their quill-wielding keisters into gear, I submit this.

I don't care about Wisconsin football. Wisconsin football is laughable. Broke-ass running backs. Greatest of All Time running backs getting suplexed into Sad Pizza City. Coaches quitting to go coach at an agri-business school in the shadow of Phil Knight. The Rose Bowl. Hiring your old OC (who couldn't remember how to run an offense outside of playing Nebraska) back to fill the hole in your hearts. Blah. The epitome of blah. The apex of blahness. The summit of Mount Blah, which bears a crimson W flag.

Too bad you can't photoshop a quarterback into your offense.

Anyhow, someone else can prattle at length about Wisconsin football. I'm hear to dispel one stupid myth--a myth that makes Wisconsin eminently dislikable: the statewide infatuation with the belief that they're somehow the kings of drinking. It's the saddest, lamest, most frat brah claim possible. And it isn't even true. It's just made up schlock in an attempt to mask the fact that you're the trailer park Minnesota...the cut-rate yoopers. The AMX of muscle cars.

Your taste in booze is awful. Your booze is awful. And your cheese? Mmmm, thanks for Sargento. Walmart shoppers everyone swoon.

In short, you're basic. You're desperate. Enough with the pseudo-Irish college girl "Ehrmagherd I drink soooooo muuuuuch" deal. It makes you look even sadder, and that alone is an accomplishment.

Maybe Barry can stand in as a drinking coach, too.