It was brought to our attention that Martina McBride was playing in Green Bay on Thursday night. So, who was there? None other than Green Bay Packers fullback John Kuhn.
That country-music-loving son of a bitch!
Can’t say we know much about Martina McBride, but we’ve heard of her. Our kind of country music more involves people with names like Hank, Garth, Waylon, Johnny, Linda, Conway and, uh… Allan Coe. Yeah, there’s no good way to throw David Allan Coe in there because his name is just David. But hey, you don’t have to call me darlin’, darlin’.
At any rate, Martina McBride was hanging out with our boy Johnny Kuhn at some point.
Was there any sort of funny business going on? Well, we sure as hell hope so!
Our other boy, Ryan, alerted us to this on Twitter and we were like, well, tell us what’s going on.
@totalpackers Kuhn was trying to get a "Concrete Angel" for Rodgers clavicle
— Ryan (@packfanRyan) December 20, 2013
Concrete Angel is a song by Martina McBride, in case you were unaware (which we were as well until we just Googled it).
But the point here is, this broad is not bad looking. And she’s a redhead. And if you didn’t know, we really like good-looking redheads. They’re like the unicorn of women.
It’s pretty rare when you spot one in the wild, but when you do… whoa…
So, atta boy Johnny Kuhn!
I know this much about her, she’ freaking hot!
Martina McBride sang the National Anthem at Lambeau Field on 9/24/2001. That just happened to be my first game at Lambeau. The lady can sing that song. Good luck John!!!
Hair looks rather dark brown to me. She must not like gingervitis.
What, no Willie, no Kenny? C’mon man!
No better sight in the world than a beautiful auburn-haired lady with green eyes, it’s a shame they’re a dying breed of mutants, just like unicorns; someone (perhaps the Anticartman) needs to start a “Save the Redheads” campaign.
Was there on assignment for the newspaper I write for. Jordy was there, too. Kuhn got up on stage and read “The Grinch” and surprisingly got really into it, doing this really growl-y voice for the Grinch. Some ass yelled “go Steelers” afterward. If only I could have been so lucky to have been born a Steelers/Martina fan.
Fair, alabaster skin, piercing blue eyes, lush button, “bee-stung” lips. To hell with those spray on-tanned, fake blond, fake tittie hooter-stripper types. This woman is a fox.
Gotta ping you again, Wolf. I don’t know you from Adam, so don’t take this personally as I don’t have an axe to grind with you one way or another, but when you post your polemic, my-way-or-the-highway opinions and in doing so, paint a target on your chest, I just can’t resist taking the shot.
I’ve discovered a universal truth during my life that’s served me well in shaping my world view, especially when it comes to pussy.
‘And’ always trumps ‘or’. They are all delightful in one way or another and in my experience, to limit your palette to the extent that it excludes the ‘hooter-stripper types’ only deprives you of tasting all of the fruit in the garden. You go on about this in almost every post about women on TP, so being the ‘baby dolls’ of the world’s self-appointed knight-errant, it’s my duty to come their defense.
Something you may want to consider – the aforementioned type usually have some self-esteem issues that they overcompensate for as evidenced by how hard they work to create and maintain their over-the-top appearance. Not only do they wind up looking hot as fuck, (like when they walk in someplace on your arm and every guy there about nuts in his pants wishing he could hit that just once) it also reinforces in their mind a perception that so much of what the world gives to them is a function of how they appear and that a large measure of their self-worth is derived from how pleasing they can be to ‘their man’. Indulge that thinking, and it typically motivates them to be extremely affectionate, ambitious and adventuresome in the rack, with a huge predisposition and desire to please you and gain your approval. These are the kind of women that want to be fucked, not made love to, that’ll blow up your mind with how freaky they can be one minute, and then coy and demure the next. I’m not saying you want to marry ’em, but they sure can be a fun diversion.
At least that’s been my experience, but hey, maybe it’s just me.
Relax man. I am just expressing my personal aesthetics, which appears to be a minority view in this country.
One word of caution–a lot of those fake tan white girls look like leather bags as early as their 30s.