Oktoberfest, Ho!

Want to know the best way to attend Oktoberfest, the world's largest beer festival? It can be accomplished in a few simple steps!

Step 1: Make a friend name Jamie.
Step 2: Have this conversation with her-- Jamie: "Dallas, do you want to go to Oktoberfest tomorrow?" Dallas: "Yes. Yes I do."
Step 3: Somehow cause things to magically fall together and go to Oktoberfest.

We decided at 2:00 pm Wednesday afternoon in the library (the library! with nary a drink to be found) that we were going to Munich on Thursday. Why not? Well, I guess there were reasons. We just took care of them. For instance, the hotel Jamie found was way too expensive for the two of us, so we found two more people, Alex and Jen, to come with us. More on them later. Also, I wasn't 100% signed up for classes, so I had to decide not to give a damn. That was a trying experience. Then we realized we didn't have a place to stay on Thursday night, just on Friday and Saturday night, so we had to make a pact to get drunk in the airport and sleep there.

After overcoming these incredibly arduous obstacles, we were ready to go. So go we did. We had a layover in Amsterdam, where I had a pint of Heineken and accidentally ordered a slice of tuna and sweetcorn pizza at Sbarros (note-- never, ever, ever try tuna and sweetcorn pizza), then landed in Munich and got drunk. Huzzah.

Here's a rundown of our time in Munich. I assure you, you'll find it incredibly informative.

Thursday
Late morning/early afternoon: Started to drink and showered. Being of the male gender (as I possess what my brother so masculinely calls a "peeny"), I was ready to go before the girls-- they had to put on make up so they'd look less like me. So I decided to go get a haircut. And you know, I actually received a decent one. Then I bought an entire chicken and ate it. No joke. It was a shitload of chicken.

Afternoon: Went to Oktoberfest.

Friday
Late morning/early afternoon: Woke up, started to drink (I probably didn't intake water from Friday morning to Sunday morning, except for a few times when I was desperate and stuck my head under a faucet), and showered. Also, I looked at my pictures to see just what the hell I did the night before. In case you're wondering, it looks like I drank a lot of booze, ate a lot of meat, and sang songs I didn't know the words to.

Afternoon: Went to Oktoberfest.

Saturday
See Friday.

Sunday
Arose after a whopping three hours of sleep and took a cab to the airport. Finally put something non-toxic in my body and eventually made my way back to Swansea.

Germany was a very interesting place, though. Almost everyone there spoke some English, and many spoke it fluently, which surprised me after my dealings with the asshole French. However, I wasn't a big fan of the German youth. I enjoyed everyone we met who was over 35 years old-- they were blue collar, friendly, and just ready to have a good time. The college age people were all dickhead frat boys with the same perm as a slutty high schooler in the 80s. It was ridiculous. Germany must constitute at least 79% of worldwide hair gel sales. The language barrier was a bit of a help there, though. One time a guy said something uncouth to one of the girls, and, being a gentlemen, I had to say, "hey. Um. Hey. Don't do that." In German, that must mean something along the lines of "my underwear is lined with live grenades and I'm a close personal friend of Bruce Lee's pissed off ghost. Back off, Perm Boy." At least I assume it meant that, because I didn't get my ass kicked, which is always a plus-- I have something of an aversion to physical pain.

Oh, here's some more about Alex. She smokes self-rolled cigarettes like a damn chimney and as a result will occasionally get tobacco stuck in her teeth. One time it looked like she had the entire state of Virginia in there. Also, she calls the female reproductive organ "meatflaps," and furthers U.S./European relations by making out with everybody see shes, sometimes violently-- I thought she was going to dry hump a Frenchmen through a wall on Saturday. And my God she snored unbelievably loudly the first night. It sounded like a bear cutting through a fridge with a chainsaw (query: how do you train the bear?).

More about Jen. After failing to add more minutes to her pay-as-you-go cell phone, she concluded her phone call to customer service by saying "well, what am I supposed to do? I'm in Germany and I don't speak no mutha-fuckin' German!" Then she spent five minutes yelling "shut the fuck up, Alex!" in the general direction of the sonic boom Alex's nostrils emitted. Also, when I asked her if she knew of anything else to do in Munich, her response was "well, there's probably a lot of Holocaust museums." Yes. And after your visit they give you a complimentary scrapbook entitled "Look What We Did!!"

The most unusual of the trip? Whilst in the taxi to the airport, Wham!'s opus, "Wake Me Up Before You Go Go" came on the radio, and I was forced to remember when my older brother had that as his cell phone ring. This might not sound that odd, but being awake and still semi-drunk at 4:30 am in Munich and suddenly recalling my brother's giddy homosexual joy and flamboyant dance whenever he received a call struck me as peculiar.

And I got into my classes. So basically, the moral of this story is "if you want to skip registration and spend a few days drinking recklessly, do it. There are no consequences." I can't wait until I have kids to pass this information onto.