Please remember, Thanksgiving comes every year. A chance to cheer your Badgers into the Rose Bowl does not. As such, I humbly propose the following plan of action for you this weekend: GET YOUR SORRY ASSES BACK TO MADISON AND INTO CAMP RANDALL BY 2:30 p.m. CST ON SATURDAY.
Fine, go home Wednesday night to Milton or Antigo or Greendale or Wheaton (FIB) or Wayzata or Whereverthefuckyouarefrom. Go ahead and hit your home town bars with your high school buds and feel free to try and to hook up with Becky/Bobby Whoyouthoughtwashotinmiddlesschool . This is a fine tradition, and I wouldn't stand in the way of you enjoying it.
Eat turkey and all the fixins on Thanksgiving Day. Don't forget to hug your mom, tell Aunt Tilda how good the pie is, and marvel at how much the Detroit Lions suck. Get mildly stewed with your rellies, or hit the bars again, whatever. It's all good.
Then...at some point between then and whatever your travel time is to God's Country, you need to unplug the tradition, set the emerging holly-goddamned-jolliness aside, and matriculate your now-fattened heine back to Madtown so you can scream it off for the Badgers. Be there early, be there loud, and give our fellas all the support they need to give NU (from the Latin taxonomy for their breed: Uglius nerdus) an extra kick in the teeth. Revel in the fact that YOUR Wisconsin Badgers can become Big Ten Champs.
When they win, you can tear down the town (figuratively only, please).
The point is, the best party on Saturday night is going to be happening in Madison whether you are there or not...so be there. You don't want to be hanging with your lame HS pals at Sunsets or Junction Pub or Smitty's or Muldoon's STILL trying to score with Becky/Bobby Whoyouthoughtwashotinmiddlesschool and see State Street on TV looking like Madri Gras on PEDs. Boy, would you feel dumb. YOU NEED TO BE THERE!
Get there. Scream loud. Watch the Badgers win. Party your asses off. Get laid.
Sound like a plan?
Good.
Now go do it.
Fine, go home Wednesday night to Milton or Antigo or Greendale or Wheaton (FIB) or Wayzata or Whereverthefuckyouarefrom. Go ahead and hit your home town bars with your high school buds and feel free to try and to hook up with Becky/Bobby Whoyouthoughtwashotinmiddlesschool . This is a fine tradition, and I wouldn't stand in the way of you enjoying it.
Eat turkey and all the fixins on Thanksgiving Day. Don't forget to hug your mom, tell Aunt Tilda how good the pie is, and marvel at how much the Detroit Lions suck. Get mildly stewed with your rellies, or hit the bars again, whatever. It's all good.
Then...at some point between then and whatever your travel time is to God's Country, you need to unplug the tradition, set the emerging holly-goddamned-jolliness aside, and matriculate your now-fattened heine back to Madtown so you can scream it off for the Badgers. Be there early, be there loud, and give our fellas all the support they need to give NU (from the Latin taxonomy for their breed: Uglius nerdus) an extra kick in the teeth. Revel in the fact that YOUR Wisconsin Badgers can become Big Ten Champs.
When they win, you can tear down the town (figuratively only, please).
The point is, the best party on Saturday night is going to be happening in Madison whether you are there or not...so be there. You don't want to be hanging with your lame HS pals at Sunsets or Junction Pub or Smitty's or Muldoon's STILL trying to score with Becky/Bobby Whoyouthoughtwashotinmiddlesschool and see State Street on TV looking like Madri Gras on PEDs. Boy, would you feel dumb. YOU NEED TO BE THERE!
Get there. Scream loud. Watch the Badgers win. Party your asses off. Get laid.
Sound like a plan?
Good.
Now go do it.
