Octoberfest 2006

By the way, if anyone is interested, the 200th Oktoberfest kicks off in Munchen on September 18, 2010. I aims to be there if I can.... but anyway, back to 2006....


You're sitting outside, listening to the runaway hit of 1995 from the nation of India ("Aamchi Mumbai" from Baadmash) on repeat, leafing through the Necronomicon, while a 21-year old college chick dressed in a full-body alien costume, complete with giant alien head, dances suggestively to the music.


"Acid trip?" Wrong. Try "Saturday afternoon."


It all began about 10 AM, as I sipped water and watched "Almost Famous," trying desperately to fend off the hangover brought on by infinitely too many Sam Adams Octoberfests, St. Pauli Girls, shots of Svedka, and glasses of grape/berry moonshine the night before. The phone rang, and after about 4 minutes of jabbering about "cylindrical meats," I realized that Richard was asking me to bring all the leftover sausages from the previous nights Octoberfest bash to his house. So, I struggled through a shower, stopped to load up on Gatorade Rain, and headed forth.
Upon arrival, the grill was not yet ready, so I was able to ease into a lounge chair to enjoy the unseasonably cool 77 degree, breezy, sunny weather. I cracked the Necronomicon, hoping to get through the instructions to summon The Watcher, when James arrived from the house next door. Apparently, around 3 AM, one of the gaggle of 21-year-old USF students that were crashing at Rich's neighbor's house for the weekend (one of them was the daughter of Rich's neighbor's girlfriend - you got all that?) had caught the eye of a drunken Yams. He wasn't sure which one at this point, or what the lass's name was. He COULD, however, tell us that he had awakened on a fold-out sofa in the living room, buck naked, with no covers on him save for the corner of a sheet across his chest. He pulled the sheet over him, only to see that Rich's neighbor, his girlfriend, and the Fire Chief of Melbourne were having breakfast in the dining room, a mere 10 feet away. Convinced that they'd all spied his ass crack and sex-addled junk by this point, he grabbed his underwear and ducked into the bathroom just off the dining room, to take a piss. Quickly, however, he realized that wasn't all, and spun around, unleashing a wallpaper-peeling, Richter scale-rattling dump. Having provided a soundtrack to go with the undoubtedly delightful mental images these poor folks were saddled with at breakfast, Yams scurried off and came next door before having to confront whomever he had laid the pipe to the night before.


As James regaled us with such tales of debauchery, Richard continued to play "Aamchi Mumbai" over and over again (how did it take us 11 years to discover this gem? The Indians sure are on the cutting edge.) Yams finished his tale, and I got back to reading the Book of the Dead.


Moments later, however, one of the coeds next door emerged from the house in a full space alien costume, gyrating and slithering her way next door. Stupified by this new interruption to my summoning, I took a minute to survey the situation. James had bolted inside in fear that this was the girl he'd rogered the night before, Richard sat there cranking up the music, and this girl continued to dance more suggestively with the increase in volume. Deserately needing to re-establish reality, I walked into the house. There was dear Stephanie, watching the video for "Dead Eyes See No Future" by Arch Enemy on Youtube. Confused further, I ran into the living room, where I heard the television :

"Should Rutgers defeat Navy today, they would likely earn a top-20 ranking in the first BCS poll, to be released tomorrow...."

It was at this point that I ran screaming from the house. I'm still not 100% convinced it really happened. I'm thinking it's more feasible that I got addicted to laudanum, got in a huge car wreck, and am actually in a coma right now, dreaming all of this.....