Barrel of Fun
“Roll out the barrel, we’ll have a barrel of fun.”
Polkas, lederhosen, greasy grub and beer. Lots and lots of beer. Mix these together in a hall filled with a couple thousand giddy party-goers, and you have yourself Oktoberfest.
Though there were blustering winds, near-freezing temperatures, and cold miserable rains, our group braved the elements and camped (yes, in tents). Thanks to the wonders of modern technology, and some wool from a sheep, our -12 degree rated sleeping bags kept us toasty through the night. Good thing, too, since we found frost on the ground and frozen dew on the tent in the morning.
Closing up shop and driving back to the city, somehow we couldn't get those damned polkas out of our heads. "I don't want her, you can have her, she's too fat for me. Much too fat for me", we sang, as we left the myserious phenomenon that had occured in Kitchener behind, and returned to the centre of the universe.