Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Me & WWWalker Together, What Are The Odds!

What are the odds? Me and Scott Walker on the same elevator at Lambeau Field!

My Dad was having some difficulty walking up the ramp at last night's Packer game so I flagged down a young man with a wheel chair. He took us to an elevator and when the door opened, right smack dab in the middle of the elevator was Wrong Way Walker - Havoc Wreaking Drop Out himself with a stupid look on his face. I don't think he expected to see members of the public on his way to Snooty Skybox Land. I looked at him, he looked at me, Logan Cranley and I exchanged smirky glances, shook our heads in disgust and turned our backs on him.

The Great Divider has absolutely no business taking any part in celebrating The People's Team! And like I said, what are the odds? And Me without my plastic suction cup dart pistol!

1 comment:

  1. What I really should have had was my Guitar & Harp and My Song to Scooter, the Badgered State Blues, 9 verses of reality in 4 fricken floors!

    https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=74KYy27mKl0

    Ya hey der
    I used to think it was first rate
    To hail from the badger state
    But I had no idea what was in store
    The last four years, been one big hassle
    The cheddar heads kept electing “rascals”
    And I don’t feel that I’m from here anymore

    I was proud to be a Wisco Kid you see
    We were the laboratory of democracy
    With goodwill, progress, a government clean and pure
    But Corrupticons have come to rule
    With felons and cronies in a big cesspool
    I’m afraid I’m just not from here anymore

    I always thought Sconie folks were nice
    Then I found out they would rape you twice
    That shook my cheesy faith right to the core
    You already paid one terrible price
    Then that trans-vaginal probe device
    Is required to be shoved right on up your

    Chorus
    Not from here anymore
    Not from here anymore
    You can take the whole damn state and shove it right up yourrrrrrrrrr
    Gonna regret the stage you’ve set
    Them chickens ain’t back home roostin yet
    I’m done, not from here anymore

    Uff da, alack alas
    There’s a war upon the middle class
    And doubly so my friend upon the poor
    Daily bread comes with drug tests
    And we’re getting the right to work for less
    In my heart I’m not from here anymore

    Fish fries could alight my passion
    And I sure will miss that brandy old fashioned
    Get my whistle whet, my vim and verve restore
    But I just cannot abide here
    With the scapegoaters and the great divider
    I’m done, not from here anymore
    Chorus

    We’re glad we fought, only wish we’d won
    But good don’t always prevail my son
    It’s time to shut the lights and close the door
    I’ve no regrets, not one iota
    But I’m packin off for Minnesota
    I just can’t be from here anymore

    We still love the Green & Gold
    The People’s Team cannot be sold
    They’ve been owned by just plain folks from days of yore
    Bahhhhhhut, thanks to those of you who flocked
    All the rest is on the auction block
    We’re shocked and we’re not from here anymore

    Friend it does sorely pain us
    Whenever we look up we see an anus
    In da Gubnah’s mansion as a resident
    But while there’s life there’s hope
    And we can hope this dope
    Gets his fuse blown out running for president

    Yah der hey
    We used to think it was first rate
    To hail from the badger state
    But that was . . . well that was before
    You can take the whole damn passel
    But us folks, we don’t stand with “rascals”
    And we don’t feel like we’re from here anymore

    Chorus
    Not from here anymore
    Not from here anymore
    You can take the whole damn state and shove it right up yourrrrrrrrrr
    Gonna regret the path you’ve set
    And after all this, still a deficit?
    We’re done, not from here anymore
    We don’t feel that we’re from here anymore
    Goodbye Wisconsin!

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