At the end of October, cities with heavy German influence will celebrate an old tradition of drinking steins of beer until they become shitfaced and get into scuffles. These towns turn this into a huge festival that draw ordinary citizens, from beer and farts (near and far), to participate in this unruly commemoration. Built into the German genealogy were a collection of conquerors that included Asian Huns, eastern European Goths, and western European Gauls. Along with some left over Roman Legions, the combination left the inhabitants with a strong penchant for battle. World Wars 1 and 2 were fine examples of their tenacity and inability to back down. Throw in some heavy, warm beer, an attitude, a little bit of arrogance, and you’ll soon have an uprising that starts with a party; a war party, that is. Add to the mix some well-built Frauleins with their tits pushed up to their chins and it won’t be long before the ruckus spills onto the floor, just like jostled beer mugs. As the drunken Germans start swinging their fists at their old Polish antagonists, the descendants of Eastern Europeans join the brawl and soon it’s everyone against the Germans. Russians sporting heavy clothing, due to their northern latitudes, took hard body blows with no ill effects. The Swiss are holding everyone’s watches to protect the well-engineered timepieces. The French have split, and the English have set up a defensive position behind the garden pond. The Scandinavians are busily involved in sexual wrestling matches with the females from their own tribes and have no time for this nonsense. Meanwhile, the Italians are shouting, flicking their hands under their chins, and are dancing their dances that they have long ago inherited from their ancient African conquests. It’s a sight to behold. The next day as the Krauts are released from jail, sporting their black and blue shiners, they are already planning next year’s celebration known simply as: SOCKTOBERFIST. God love them rascals.