The wurst day of my life

statue-tory rape

After having an awesome time in beautiful Prague, Munich had a lot to live up to. The ancient city in the south of Germany promised history, culture, and more beer than any one liver could handle, but I instead became the victim of a crime that still affects me to this day. I was robbed in broad daylight and left alone on the wrong side of the world.

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The crane in the corner really adds to the sense of history

My time in Munich started badly, with rain sweeping in while I headed out to explore. I ended up in the world’s largest beer garden, which holds up to 7000 piss-heads. That sounds awesome except, when I was there, instead of thousands of party-goers (many of whom would obviously be big-titted German wenches), I was joined by eight or nine fat, depressed Euros and a dying dog. In Munich, it pays to be there at the right time.

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“You talkin’ to me? Oh, you are? Hi!”

I’d heard good things about the city, but Munich isn’t exactly beautiful. What’s left of the old town is small, with drab, modern building making up the bulk of the place. Honestly, as I was walking around it felt like I was walking through the outskirts of Wyong, a town that doesn’t exactly fill the heart with love and wonder.

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Looks just like the Wyong council chambers

While the city is drab, the parks are really nice to walk through, with lakes and palaces all over the place. The Englischer Garten is a highlight, with rivers all over the place, heaps of different typses of plants, a Chinese-themed beer garden, and a sewage pipe that wacky Germans surf off! Well, I suppose a wetsuit full of poo and used condoms is a small price to pay for a surf when you’re thousands of kilometres from the coast.

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Go for it, Kelly Slater!

I love the Olympics (I had a poster of Ian Thorpe on my wall as a child, which certainly seems questionable now. Of course, it was wedged between my Ricky Martin and Elton John posters, so I had a couple of heterosexual tough-guys there to balance out Ian’s festering homosexuality), so i decided to head out to the site of the 1972 Games, where Australia scored an impressive eight gold medals – all for the now-banned sport of midget tossing.

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Giz gold medal, cunt

While the stadium has aged, its well-maintained and the grounds of the precinct are well-maintained, peaceful and gorgeous, and well worth checking out. There’s even a hill to climb, which provides commanding views out over the city. I managed to score a beer and drink it under a tree by a lake, before wandering off to find something to eat. The best thing about Germany (apart from the fact it keeps all the fucking Germans in one spot, and stops them from spreading all over the world like piss in a kiddie pool) is that there are beer gardens everywhere. If there’s a patch of grass with a few trees, it’s possible to buy an improbably-sized jug of beer and some meat, and sit there getting fat and drunk and happy. It was in one such garden, on the side of a tree and in the shade of a massive tree, that I was robbed.

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Heaven on a plate

I bought a huge stein of beer a huge plate of currywurst, which fast became my favourite food while in Germany. It’s basically a bratwurst slathered in a paste made from tomato sauce and curry powder, served with French fries. It sounds average, but it’s actually fantastic, and I couldn’t wait to eat it. Unfortunately, I forgot to pick up a knife and fork with my my meal, so I headed back to the counter to get it, stupidly leaving my belongings on my table.

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My hotel during my stay in Munich

As I returned, the alcoholic Germans around me were laughing and shouting at me, chunks of meat pouring from their stupid mouths. The hooted louder and louder as I got closer to my table, and when I got back, I realised someone has stolen my stuff, and it hit me like a punch to the stomach. In only 30 seconds, some of the things most important to me had been pinched – my currywurst, some of my chips, gone! At first I thought they’d been taken by some hungry kraut dickhead, but it turned out a huge bird had taken my lunch. A fucking bird!

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Sitting with all my mates

I was shattered, and sat down to cry into my beer. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder, and when I looked up a miracle was in progress! A stunning blonde girl with huge knockers was placing a replacement sausage on my plate while everyone in the beer garden cheered! The day had gone from the worst in history, to the best, and I celebrated by taking the big-titted blonde into my arms and kissing her passionately.

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The parks are actually pretty bloody nice. Just stay away from the crappy city

At least, that was the plan, until her 120kg boyfriend stepped in and told me in no uncertain terms that if I tried it again, he would kick my teeth down my throat. Turns out some things aren’t easily lost in translation. But the day wasn’t done. Drunk on beer and happy with life, I staggered to the train station for an overnight trip to Venice, where I spent the evening rolling between countries with an absolutely stunning Russian model. But that’s a story for another day…

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4 thoughts on “The wurst day of my life

    1. Let’s just say I sucked a lot of cock to get where I am. Haha, no, I spent many years as one of Australia’s most-loved writers, so I saved a few dollars. You can come on holidays with me next time if you want.

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      1. Oh, but that’s no fun! I have always worked in print media, so unless you bought it on the shelves, it’s gone. Well, except for all the brilliance contained within this blog…

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