I have been in dire need of a new Packer hat as of late. The one I had was a white one, that looks like it has been eaten by Bear, and then passed through his digestive tract, fully in-tact, and passed out the other end. And it smells. So I decided to stop into the Packer Pro Shop, which for those unfortunate few who doesn't know, is connected to Lambeau Field. If I had an unlimited supply of money, I would drop about a thousand bucks every time I went in. So I stopped in on Saturday about 1 p.m. The Packers had practiced earlier, but may have had a night practice too, I don't really know. Either way, it was difficult to find a parking spot. While inside, I had to wait a few minutes behind the fatties at the hat rack to peruse my options. Then, I had to wait in line for my purchase for about 5 minutes. There were FOUR cashiers, WITH motherfuckers bagging the shit for them. And it took five minutes for me to get to the front, which should clue you into how many people were in the place (which is rather large). The lady in front of me was a middle aged woman wearing a bedazzled Packer shirt. Someone stopped and asked her if she made it herself, and she said she just bought it there last night. She was in front of me in line, and purchased another $224 worth of gear.
The moral to this story is that the artist formerly known as Brett Favre was a fucking moron to think he was bigger than the Green Bay fucking Packers. They will live on, and (probably) still be playing alot longer than the artist formerly known as Favre. I only say probably because he may play until the NFL itself has been taken over by football playing robots and the same robots murdered all of the owners of all the teams, and the NFL office itself, and renamed the league the RFL, and the artist formerly known as Favre will probably start for one of the robot teams and throw like 35 picks a year.
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