Monday, December 20, 2010


Well, it's over.

I fell off the face of the earth due to a large-scale end of the year banquet, easily the worst finals schedule I've ever encountered (including some 40-odd pages of research papers and gigantic tests), followed by the last night at the school - a night which was defined by the simple logic train of "Well, our bus leaves at 6am...might as well stay up all night!" as well as fueled by a good amount (and wide variety of) alcohols. Then, instead of going back to Chicago with the rest of the group, me and a few friends went to Cairo.

Ya know, for funsies.

Then I lost my laptop charger my last night in Rome after Cairo, and was therefore unable to blog whilst in Chicago.

So here I am, more than a week since my return to the states and roughly three since my last post, updating you on my life.

There's obviously a lot to say, and unfortunately I'm still jet-lagged beyond belief (though the all-nighter I pulled a couple days ago probably didn't help...) and can't write for shit right now. Just wanted to update you all on the fact that there should be lots of updates in the next couple of days, and that I was not, in fact, dead.

But, in an attempt to make this not a complete waste of a post, I feel as though I should return to an old, pre-Roman tradition:


(I know how you all missed it dearly)

For this week's installment, I decided to hit up a semi-real song from one of the greatest Nicktoons of all time. Enjoy, and check back again in the next day or two for something remotely significant.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

The Century Mark

Well ladies and gentlemen, I've finally reached a milestone here on Soft Nonsense: 100 blog posts. Not quite the year mark (which is coming up in a couple months), but I felt that not commemorating it in some fashion would be a waste of an, entry.

So, for your reading pleasure:

Soft Nonsense's 100th post, as interpreted through various forms of poetry


The blog’s one hundred
I’m not really sure how to
Commemorate it

Stole from Pat Tillet
He writes poems pretty well
Five syllables dumb


I’ve written about a lot here
Comic books, Justin Beaver, Nicktoons
My first (and fourth) Oktoberfest beer
And about five men for whom I swoon

Life in newspaper and the radio
My roommates and my Mansgiving
My trip to Barca’s estadio
Can't forget Wash not living

All about having to get tampons
Plus Nostalgic Music Mondays
(Probably) a few tales of my brawn
Even formed a some new catchphrase (s - silent pluralization)

Sorry for that last verse, I’m not exactly a bard
(God this rhyming shit is hard)


Zombies, Red Rangers, and Dutch knights
Hank Azaria, NPH, and my fear of heights
A rough break-up (kind of a bitch)
Can’t forget hot dog potato chips
Me finding stray cats in Hawaii
My life being rather untidy
Lollapalooza, a manly moustache
And toiling under my professors' lash


But through it all, you all have kept reading
On and on, rarely ceasing
Only the best things have you said
Basically, without you all, this blog would be dead
I look at my followers, some stuff I recommend
Even a few of you, I consider a friend
Some of you: I’m glad you appreciate the immature things


Funny, smart
Writing, commenting, laughing
All obviously very sexy


And so I think its time for me to stop,
According to my European clock
So I bid you adieu
And thank all of you
For putting up with this slop.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Greatest/Most Horrifying News Short of the Zombie Apocalypse

Now, I know this is supposed to be a Greece post.

I'd say I'm sorry, but this is fucking important.

I don't know how to tell you this, and I don't relish the fact that it is me who is breaking the news to you. What you are about to hear is equal parts heart-stoppingly terrifying and pulse-quickening(ly?) exciting*. Prepare yourselves accordingly.

*Meaning, I believe, that it keeps your pulse normal. Or explodes your chest cavity. Dammit Jim, I'm a history major, not a doctor!

Fossil Found of Super T Rex in Mexico

Sweet Jesus. Okay, already, the 6 year old in all of you should be excited. Everyone knows the Tyrannosaurus Rex is easily the most badass dinosaur of all time. Saw what you will about whatever your favorite is (I'm a velociraptor man myself), but the T-Rex is still the fucking tyrant lizard. Read on:

Throw away all of your pre conceptions about the Tyrannosaurus Rex; all of those images stuck forever in your head from Jurrasic Park. Long considered the most dominant animal to ever walk the face of the earth, the fossilized remains of a predator that dwarfed the T Rex have been found in what was once tar pits in southern Mexico.

The newly discovered and remarkably preserved remains have yet to be named; ‘Super T Rex’ is simply the monniker attached at the current time.
The dimensions are nothing short of mind boggling; While Tyrannosaurus ran 40 feet in length, 15 feet in height, and 7 tons, the Super T rex nearly doubled it. The specimen is estimated to have been 62 feet long, and stood just over 20 feet above the ground.

Okay. We knew about how awesome the idea was already, all that was was give us the numbers to back up our level of excitement. 62 feet long? 20 feet above the ground??? Teeth likely the size of small minivans??!!! And found in a tar pit? That's about the sweetest way to find anything old, and you know it.

But gets scary.

But the size of the specimen isn’t even the most remarkable aspect; what has scientists world wide in a frenzy is the fact that there are actual soft tissue samples that have been preserved by the unique properties of the tar in which the animal was captured.

...Ex-squeeze me?*

*Baking powder?

Not only was there the skeleton of a giant ass ultra tyrant dinosaur, bringer of pubescent wet dreams and nightmares alike, but you're saying that there was meat of this thing leftover?!

Heavy, man.

The doors this discovery opens are remarkable; it is entirely possible at this point that a Jurassic Park like scenario in which DNA is extracted could now occur.

No. No no no. No no NO NO.

And yet yes. Sweet jesus yes.

Do you realize what this means?

Not only do we get to realize the beautiful vision laid forth by Mr. Spielberg and Mr. Crichton, but we get to realize it via the biggest, hardest, most undeniably badass lizard ever known. This thing likely ate pre-historic whales for sushi and shat out Ankylosaurus(es?). After a meal, it probably roundhouse kicked a fern and used it as a toothpick.

This dinosaur looked at a normal, pathetically-sized T-Rex and called it a bitch.

The only reason the asteroid hit the Earth millions of years ago was because this obviously angry son of a lizard was taking a tar pit bath, likely romancing a pair of duck-bills*.

*They gave great head.

Get it?

Don't worry, he was probably going to eat the shit out of them immediately afterwards.

Now, science took a lot away from us 90s kids the last few years (Pluto and dinosaurs brontosaurus and possibly the triceratops). They owe us a sweet dinosaur role model or two.

But even more than a sure-fire future ruled by mega dinosaurs, think about this:

In naught but a few years, you all could finally realize your dream of meeting me, your internet hero, over an ultra T-Rex burger.

That's right: dinosaur steaks. Eggs. Rex rinds. Tyrannosaur pate.

And that's not all. For the ladies: T-Rex skin purses strike your fancy? How about some sweet shoes?

But did Jeff Goldblum teach us nothing? Or that one guy who played Newman from Seinfeld? How many times does Samuel L. Jackson need to ask us to get these %&$#*ing dinosaurs out of his %$#@ing science research facility?

We must be careful. We should be scared.

But God should we be excited.

Photos of the skeleton will come out sometime in December.

Be ready: there will be follow-ups.


Story care of

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Soft Thanksgiving

Well, it's 3:21 AM here in Roma, and I'm faaaiiiirrrllllyyy sleepydrunk right now. My friends Matt and Sarah and I decided to stay in Rome for Thanksgiving break (mostly because we're poor and have a lot of homework to do). I'll probably blog all about it in the next couple of days when I get all the pictures for it, but can't really do so at the moment.


It's been very weird being in a country that doesn't celebrate Thanksgiving. We had to remind ourselves all day that the world keeps turning everywhere else, and that today was nothing special for anyone but us Americans. Obviously, we spent the entirety of today being loud, kinda drunk Americans because, well, fuck blending in in the holiest of holy feasts of the Church of Merika.

But I wanted to crank out a Thanksgiving post real quick, especially because I don't have all of my pictures together for my Greece posts (so..far...behind...). So, in a quick, sleepydrunk fashion, here are the top 15 things I am thankful for on this, the most glorious of American holidays:


15) Online TV - Old Nicktoons, new episodes of shows like Community, How I Met Your Mother, and Walking Dead, live football games, and movies online have all helped me cling (pathetically?) to my American, semi-couch potato lifestyle.

14) Italian food - From street pizza to fancy shmancy racks of lamb, these Italians might not be able to run anything efficiently, but sweet lord can they cook.

13) Immaturity - The fact that I still think of every person in London with red hair as being a Weasley, get no end of enjoyment in talking about Pixar movies, and giggle like a little kid when someone says "dootie," makes me beam with a pride that most should be ashamed of.

12) Dirindl - See my Oktoberfest post.

11) My friends in the blog world - As much as I like to say that I write this blog to make myself a better writer, a big portion of it is to entertain people. You all really help me push through the days that I don't feel like blogging, and every e-mail notification I get saying that I have a new comment on my blog makes me feel all warm and tingly inside (like the wine I had with dinner). Can't thank you all enough for the small bit of attention that you pay me.

10) The secret bakery - Will warrant a blog write up in the near future. Short version: 24 hour bakery, donuts the size of your head, cannoli, under a euro. Epic win.

9) Old friends - While I've made a slew of new friends here in Rome (and really, in college in general), there's always something to be said for the friends from elementary school who you can still pick up the phone, call, and talk to for an hour about nothing in particular. Those are the friendships that will always be there, no matter what, and the ones that should be treasured the most.

8) Authentic American food - You don't know how much you miss a good burger, pie, or cookie until you don't have access to them anymore. First day back in the US is going to be a calorie-filled day of greatness. Greatness and sugar and protein.

7) Great professors - All of my professors this semester are phenomenal, have genuinely inspired me to find what I want to do in life, grab a hold of it, and never let go. For that, I will be eternally grateful.

6) Man Night - A holdover from my time back in Chicago, there's something to be said for going out with the boyos for a brew or two to just relax and get to know each other better. God I sound like a drunk frat boy...

5) Feeling thankful for things - As strange as it sounds, I appreciate the ability to realize how lucky I am and try to not take too much for granted. I am thankful for the ability to see how many opportunities life has given me.

4) Easyjet, Ryanair, and all the like - I've regaled you with (some) of my jetsetting stories this semester, and it, quite frankly, wouldn't be possible without the fine (and by fine, I mean cheap and shitty) services offered by these airlines.

3) Little moments in which I can speak Italian and pretend I'm not too foreign - Yes, I know that, on the rare occasions that my very limited Italian skillset (Where is the bathroom? One piece of pizza please! That's good!) will carry me through in conversation, I still speak in an American accent. But it's nice at least seeming like I fight in...

2) History boners - I've references them a number of times on this blog with a fair amount of passion, but I feel like throwing them another (heh) bone here needs to happen. For me, the sheer fact that I can be emotionally moved by anything, including seeing the inside of the Colosseum for the first time,and be genuinely excited about learning about it is something that I deeply treasure. I've looked for a long time to find something that I'm interested in enough to really turn my full passion towards, and journalism and history have filled those roles. And blogging, of course. Yeah.

1) Family - Yes, they give me a whole lot of hell for a lot of things (they didn't take well to my Oktoberfest postings...). And yes, they really get on my nerves for a whole litany of reasons that I'll not get into right now. But without the support of my parents, who told me that I could go to college wherever I wanted and go abroad wherever I wanted, I wouldn't be where I am today, having the time of my life. I certainly won't forget everything that they've done for me and my siblings over the years to make the little moments possible. Though I might need a re-assertion of that love via a direct deposit to my savings account later this week.

Hope everyone has a great Turkey Day filled with overeating, family, friends, football, and chants of "USA! USA! USA!"

Monday, November 15, 2010

Oktoberfest 2010 Day 3: The Last Prost

Part 1
Part 2

On our final day in Germany, we had a later afternoon flight, so we decided that we wanted one final stint in the festival would be the best use of our time. We broke the icicles off of our bodies from the night before, cursed Toby for not texting us appropriately, and headed to the grounds.

My breakfast:

Some sort of delicious pork burger thing that was probably the best-tasting thing in the world and absolutely horrifying for my arteries. Mike grabbed another wienershnitzel, and we headed to the next beer tent:

(after passing one of the greatest sights known to man)

When we got in, it was much less crowded than the day before (translating to a beer tent with about 10 open seats, instead of negative 40):

Then, after failing to flag down a beer wench for a good half an hour...


I forgot to time stamp that one, but I did after, well, a bit.

So I'll let you do the math.

We also learned an interest German drinking game in which one person would stand up on their table, like so:

And then chug the ENTIRETY of their stein (the equivalent 3 or so very strong German beers) while the entire tent pounded their mugs and cheered him/her* on.

*Mostly hims.

It happened five times in our 30 minutes there, and likely resulted in roughly 4 deaths.



Unfortunately, we had to leave shortly thereafter. After one last longing look at the splendour* of Oktoberfest, a reminiscence of good times, and a sudden bought of guilt driven by the sheer amount of fat, calories, and alcohol streaming through our veins, we headed back to The Tent:

*With a u, because I'm fancy and European like that now.

Gathered all of our stuff, returned the four (no exaggeration) blankets they had given us, and left for our flight. We couldn't resist one last German pastry on our way out:

And to put our coldness into perspective, here is a picture of the layers that I was wearing during our time there:

That would be an undershirt, a second, heavier t-shirt, a long-sleeve thermal, a thick pullover, and a jacket.


And that concludes Oktoberfest. Next up Greece.

Which is, of course, 9 days long and will require a post for each of the days. Check here often, I'm going to blogging like a fiend to try and catch up.

Oktoberfest 2010 Day 2: Something German This Way Comes

Part 1

A prelude to the glory that is one of the most guten tag-in, sausage-eatin, liederhosen gawkin' days in the entirety of my life, I need to describe to you what the night before that day was like.

As a reminder, I was sleeping in a giant tent, meaning that there was naught but a small bit of canvas between me and the elements. Second, I was sleeping on top of a giant concrete slab, which does not make for a great way to stave off the cold. Third, the weather was like hell, but the thermal opposite. Not only was it a horrifying level of frigid already, but it was also pouring down rain at levels that would have rivaled that of Noah's floods.

It was one of the worst nights that I've ever experienced in the entirety of my existence. After coming back to "The Tent" with Mike post-fire, I spent the next 7 hours or so in a constant state of shiver. When I woke up, I was absolutely exhausted, plus borderline bronchial.

But when I woke up, got dressed in an awkward way that minimized skin-to-air contact, and braced myself for the outside world, I knew I had to rally. Because....because I was in the Fatherland during the greatest time of the year. Because damn it, I had an obligation as a stout, blond, bearded gentleman with an affinity for women in dirindl and a last name with a hard Z-sound to get out there and embrace German culture like it was a sweet sweet human-sized sausage.

And so, I made this speech:


Now tell me you're not inspired. That's practically Braveheart, Caesar crossing the Rubicon shit.

And with that, we gathered our spirits and a couple semi-friends, rubbed our tired eyes, threw on an extra pair of socks, and began the trek to Oktoberfest.


Now, keep in mind: we're leaving our hostel at roughly 8am to even get a spot at a beer tent. When we got there, there were already lines all over the grounds. We scrambled around, looking for the shortest one at the Hofbrauhous. After winding our way around a giant, muddy line, this is what we walked in to:


The tent officially opened at 9, and we had to wait forever to finally get our steins....

Don't judge me. It's a cultural experience.

And because we didn't want beer to be the only course at breakfast, we decided to split a pretzel.

Which just come in that size. Like everywhere.

About this time (i.e. - once we'd had roughly half a stein), we began talking to one of our neighbors, a German man named Toby.

After we chatted in surprisingly good English, he said the words that would shape the remainder of Mike and my day:

"Ve shood get drrunk togedder."

And that is how we spent the afternoon in Oktoberfest with real, honest-to-God Germans.

They all showed us around the fair, taking us far beyond the tents and sausage stands that we had limited ourselves to. Some highlights?

That's right, a Jumanji ride. Oktoberfest is the best.


Eventually, we all decided that we were in the mood to sit and have another stein. And so we searched a few other tents, chatting and having a grand old time. Toby somehow managed to find another stein sitting around (number three on the da, for those of you playing at home), and it seemed to go rather quickly through him.

AKA - He peed here.

On the way, as a bonding experience, they bought us some authentic German shnapps (sour apple!) and they taught us how to toast. Then after a series of ventures into various, overly crowded tents:

However, we couldn't find a seat at any of them. Leading us to realize: it's harder to get drunk at Oktoberfest than one would imagine.

But we had some adventures nonetheless.

(Some adventures are best left untold)

Soon, though, they had to come to an end. One of our German friends got a headache, and wanted to go back to their hotel to lay down and take some Tylenol. Toby gave us his number and promised to text us to meet up later that night. We reminded him that our phone couldn't send or receive phone calls or send texts, and that he had to tell us exactly when and where to meet him in his text. He said he understood, and said they'd see us later.

And so Mike and I began to explore. And eat. Mostly eat though.

First point of awesomeness for German culture: their sharpshooting games?

Use crossbows.

Yup. German biker gang.

And look at Star Trek paintings on kiddie rides.

Then we decided to take a break from the Oktoberfest vibe for a bit and wander the city. We had had a lot of beer and sausage and walking on the day, and wanted to explore Munich a bit. The fact that we were out of cash also helped out decision making process, and we didn't know where to closest ATM was.

As we wandered the streets, we saw something that intrigued us:

Don't look at my blog like that. Mike and I are sushi-holics, and hadn't had our fix in a good, long while. When we looked at the menu and saw that it was cheap, looked at our freshly refilled wallets, and looked deep into our souls and saw what we were about to do was good, we dove in:

But its fine!

We had German beer to even it out.

Then we headed back to the main grounds to Germanize ourselves again with some wienerschnitzel:

And spent a little more time in an accessible beer tent before needing to call it a night for a bit. We headed to the train station (where we found this:)

(Nerds of the world unite!)

And headed back to The Tent.


One final story: in case you were wondering, we DID hear back from Toby, at around 12:30 in the morning. We were almost ready for bed, but told ourselves that we would go out and meet them if they talked to us before one. His text?

"Hey, where are you?"

And so the second-most repeated phrase of the weekend (behind "follow the liederhosen" and in front of "ein bratvurst, bitte") became:

"Fucking Toby."

Monday, November 8, 2010

scenes of soft nonsense

In a slight break from my European updates, brought upon by my lack of time (most take a couple hours due to slow uploading times, reminiscing, and intermittent Wikipedia ventures) and desire to shake things up a bit, I decided to put up a short post tracing a few musings, presented in snippet form.



As I sit here in the library of my school, there is a guy not but 10 feet from me working on a paper. The only things surrounding him? His laptop, a book, a pair of cappuccinos, and a plate of snacks. And a half-drunk glass of champagne.

Dio benedica Roma.


Another library-related story: during my studies (see next blurb), I went upstairs to drop the kids off at the pool* and heard a door swing open, then saw one of the most attractive girls on campus scurry down past me back into the biblioteca. Which lead to a few of questions:

1) Can I still look at her the same way, knowing that she is a non-flusher?
2) Can I still look at her the same way, knowing what she didn't flush?
3) Can I still look at the guy she makes out with the same way, knowing that, if they go beyond college hooking up, I have foreseen something that he likely won't for another 5-10 years?

*In case that wasn't clear:
bomb the oval office
drop a deuce
drown the brown snake
bust porcelein
or an Italian flair - coronate Emperor Gluteus Maximus III

**Did I mention that I'm single?


I have an essay for my English class due on Wednesday over a book that I haven't finished reading yet that I just remembered about today. So far tonight I have accomplished:

4 pages read
2 episodes of Community (George Takei + zombie episode = best Halloween episode of anything ever? Also, the one and only time that the use of ABBA is to be permitted)
1 episode of How I Met Your Mother
1/2 blog post
3 hours trolled on various comic websites

How time flies when one is having fun.

The site that I spent most of my time on was (let's face it - is and will be) Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal. It's a mostly one-panel collection of cartoons, and had me awkwardly ROFL-coptering in between the stacks earlier. Put bluntly: it tickles my nerdy, 12-year old bones to the core with a nice combination of Star Wars, satire, and boobies. Some highlights to entice you to give them your web traffic:

Can't lie: have used this line, as well as a couple of variants involving Mussolini, Ghandi, and Michael Cera.

Stillllll single ladies.

If only.

I've seen the Pope - this could be a reality.

Other winners in the SN troll-a-thon?

Hipster Hitler - Hitler as, um, a hipster?
Vladimir Putin Action Comics - A behind-the-scenes look at the former Russian leader, giving us a glimpse into how truly terrifying the man is (He supports Leno!!!)
Penny Arcade - If you don't know about Penny Arcade already, then you are likely not in my target audience. Stop reading this blog (after commenting and telling all of your friends how awesome it is), click the link, and read, my pretties, READ!!!


....and I wonder why people insist on using Wizard of Oz references when I say I'm from Kansas.


For those of you who read my last post (READ IT - it has video!), you'll see that I noted a sharp incline in followers in the last few days. It then recently came to my attention that I got a shout-out from my blog friend Amber at Nostomanic which included a sweet award (the Woody Allen one to the right somewhere) and a notification of my handsomeness*. If you aren't already, you need to check out her blog, I think you'd be hard-pressed to find a better one out there if you're a twentysomething (though if you're a new follower from the shout-out, you already know that...).

She consistently blows all of my ramblings out of the water with nostalgic and nerd hypothetical galore and bomb-ass cartoons to back them up. Plus, she's generally an awesome person.

*If it's on the Internet, it must be true.


Back to Oktoberfest in the next day or two, though I do have that essay due on Wednesday...and then another book to read by Thursday....then I'm going to Berlin and Stockholm and Brussels this weekend...

Patience is a virtue.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Oktoberfest 2010 Day 1: Follow the Liederhosen! (With Video!)

I'm sorry bloggers and blogesses - I have failed you.


I know that your weeks are practically defined by the next time you can get updated on my life. That your one glimmer of hope each day is to come home from your dull lives to get online, frantically type my URL into your browser on the of chance that I had updated in the time it took for you to close out of Firefox at work to get home onto your personal computer, was absent for a few weeks. Then, after that, I allowed myself to fall behind a full month in events to catch you up on.

For that, I am sorry.

And, by God, I will be blogging like a fiend to catch you up on the three mind-blowing and possibly life-altering experiences that you've missed.

So I've got my work cut out for me, especially because I'm exhausted, each of these will take a gargantuan effort to put up, I might not remember everything, and I haven't written much besides terrible midterm papers for weeks.

So you have that to look forward to.

Up first: visiting the Fatherland during Oktoberfest...


I spent the first two weeks or so of my time in Rome planning out all the places I wanted to go this semester. At one point, the list came it at something like 15 countries (not cities, mind you - countries). Never having been to Europe, I wanted to experience as much as I possibly could, and was pretty open to any and all experiences.

But when I was reminded that Oktoberfest in Germany was not only an easily-reachable destination, but also occurred during the month of October (making it fit quite nicely into a Fall semester abroad), I knew that I had to go.

For a few points of order:

1) While I don't especially like beer now (though I have developed a taste for it as of late, more on that in a bit), I absolutely HATED it going into study abroad. I viewed drinking beer as near-synonymous with drinking not only urine, but a finely crafted, bitter urine that had been fermented in a rotten barrel and likely came from a steady diet of all that is evil in the food world (brussels sprouts, papaya, liver and onions, and anything made by my elementary school cafeteria besides mini corn dogs)

2) There is a lot of beer at Oktoberfest.

Despite these two seemingly contrarian facts, I knew I had to go. I never got to embrace any sort of ethnic culture growing up aside from proud American, and I thought it would be really fun to attach myself to my (very) German genetics, even if only for a weekend. So I grew a manly Oktoberfest beard, hitched up my imaginary liederhosen, and booked a flight and crappy hostel and boarded my late September flight* with high hopes. And my friend Mike.

*Yeah, apparently Oktoberfest also happens in September. I don't understand either. But don't you dare insult my people.

And, in my enthusiasm to document the fact that, yes, I was heading to another country, I took a picture of the first thing in German I saw:

No, not the most exciting of pictures. But don't squash my enthusiasm, you bastards.

Also saw these little bumps from our window:

When we got off our flight, Mike and I continued giggling like the little schoolgirls we are at heart, repeating the phrase "OMG WE'RE IN GERMANY' and attempting to pronounce random German words a good hundred times. Soon we found our way to the train we needed to take to get to Munich, and admired all of the fine German people sitting all around us. Soon, as we approached our destination, these folks got on:

We nearly cried.

Soon, as we closed in on the promised land, we weighed our options. Our original plan had been simply to drop our stuff (consisting of a tightly-packed backpack apiece) off at our hostel and spending the rest of the night doing what we could at the festival. But, we were starving, and Oktoberfest was on the way, ssssoooo....

After randomly running into some people that someone in our group new (already fairly blasted, despite the fact that it was about 3pm at the time), we walked around in a circule with a circumference of about 100 feet, then settled upon a stand to obtain our first of many bratwurst (pronounced, according to my three-page German cheat sheet I printed out before leaving, "ber*phlegm*ATverst")

And oh, what a bratwurst it was.



After having a slew of mouthgasms, we headed to the tram to head to our hostel.

Now, a quick word about our hostel: Mike and I didn't quite realize the extent of unprepared we were. By that I of course mean that we didn't realize that the vast majority of people who attend Oktoberfest and don't live in Munich are, in fact, poor, young, drunk people. And, as I'm sure most of you know, such a crowd tends to not have much money, and what little they had was already set aside for beer and sausage and schnitzel consumption. Therefore, they all want to stay in the cheapest housing available: the hostel. We especially fell under this classification. However, we also fell under another classification: dumb and lazy. Therefore, we didn't start looking for a hostel of our own until two weeks beforehand.

Which is how we came to love "The Tent."

Yup. Sounds like a winner, don't it?

It was, in fact, simply a gigantic tent. Concrete floor, 60 or so bunk beds, some lockers for valuables, and a tent covering it all.

Like, that's it.

But all the workers were really great and helpful (AND SPOKE ENGLISH IN A SWEET GERMAN ACCENT). Plus they catered to pretty much every need one could have.

Fourth one down or so. They sure know their target audience.

We obviously couldn't wait to get back to the festival, so we went to grab some tickets for the tram.



We didn't quite remember if we were getting on the correct tram, so we went by the old adage:

Follow the Liederhosen.

When we got back and got to gaze upon the full glory of Oktoberfest. Which, apparently, also translates to giant-ass carnival full of awesome things.


Now, there will be more pictures of the fantasticness next post (spoiler alert: ROLLER COASTERS), but here, for your viewing pleasure for the second time ever on Soft Nonsense, is a video presentation that sums up (and, really, tells the story better than I ever could) our first evening at Oktoberfest after we found some of our friends:


Cheers indeed.

Then we all went out to explore Munich a bit, saw a sweet castle thing: you do in Europe.

Then I ate pancake soup. you do in Germany.

Then Mike and I headed back to The Tent and was greeted by a giant bonfire filled with happy, drunk Australians. you do in...The Tent...I guess...

And so went Day 1 at Oktoberfest. More to come ASAP.


Quick side note: had a sudden upswing of followers last week, greetings and thanks to all y'all. I'll take that as a hint to update less often.