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Caught unprepared, I wasn't my usual confident self. Stammering, i managed to get out "Hey, howsit going" with some difficulty. They eyed me up and down, and I felt naked under their heated stares. God knew I wanted to be. Well, not really - it was just Ant, Jay, Chris and Sven. I thought I'd inject some sexual tension into this story. You'll see why later. So we were off to Shutzenfest. There was a long walk ahead from the train station to bonython park where Shutzenfest is located, but the anticipation overcame all physical barriers. You see, in the past 17 or so years of our life, we had been awaiting this event. So off we went. On the way, we met many drunken passergoers leaving shutzenfest. Always observant, young Christopher made an astute call - "Why is it that all the people leaving are scummers?" I shrugged and continued walking. Little did we know it was a sign of things to come. Before entering the grounds, we met a fine, young gentleman. With firey red hair, a pair of suave "eminem" jeans several sizes too large and a refined Salisburyan accent he greeted us - "Howsit goin, cunts?!" I looked at Sven as if to say "is he for real?" not sure whether I should laugh or cry or run. We should have turned at this point. We should have never entered Shutzenfest. But we did, and theres nothing we can do now except continue going to therapy every week with Dr. Morgan to deal with the tramau we faced at the event. So how can I describe it? With all my eloquence and articulate expression i could never truly paint the picture for you. Imagine if you could take all the residents of Salisbury, Elizabeth and every other underprivileged suburb in the city, no.. the world - and put them in one event. You guessed it - you'd have Shitzenfest. Now imagine the asthetic value of the females - with the socio-economic demographic which ive described. Now you can understand why I needed sexual tension before. Sadly enough, we were prettier than the girls there. So, after eating a hotdog and having a beer out of the shitty plastic steins, we decided to leave this god-forsaken scummer-fest. We were out of the gates - free! Or so we thought, until walking past the very same red-headed scummer from before. He astounded us with his broad vocabulary and public decorum once again, yelling out to us "Howsit goin cunts?!" Hope to see you all there next year! |
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