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| - Oh the Calgary Stampede. I would like to prelude this by saying that this review is exclusively in response to my experience inside the Nashville North tent which comprised my entire 2-day experience of the esteemed Calgary Stampede. That said; feel free to take this with a grain of salt. Furthermore, I would like to apologize in advance to any Canadians or straight-laced innocents that I may offend while relaying the lascivious offenses I witnessed during my brief stint at this wild western orgy disguised as a rodeo.
Being a wild one myself and always enjoying any reason to walk around with reason in public clad in boots and a cowboy hat, the stampede had been on my bucket list for awhile. Imagine my sheer joy when my best friend from college moved up to Edmonton and invited my to join her at this year's stampede. I hastily purchased plane tickets and began putting together the perfect ensembles. I flew into Edmonton on Wednesday and spent a few lovely days with my girlfriend before we drove up to Calgary Friday morning for 2 full-days of stampede madness.
Upon entering the Nashville North stampede tent at approximately 11:30am every cowboy hat-clad boy and girl was...sloppy drunk. Eager to jump on the sloppy drunk caravan I scooted on over to the bar to find that there was no hard alcohol allowed in the tent- only shit beer and weird blue coolers. I went with shit beer, which, truth be told, didn't taste quite so shitty after I managed to gulp down the first 4 or 5. I proceeded to get pretty sloshed, but even the foggiest of beer goggles could not shield, prepare, or allow me to be receptive me to the utter debaucherousness I was about to be forced to partake in. I look to my left and I see a man on his stag (apparently this is what they call a bachelor party in Canada) sans wedding ring receiving fillacio from a girl he met 10 minutes prior while the members of his bachelor party stand around him in a semi-circle guarding him from flashing cameras. I look to my right and see fingers disappearing on the dancefloor beneath strangers skirts. Then to my surprise I suddenly feel my feet lifted in the air and realize that I have been tossed over a strangers shoulder and am being CARRIED onto the dance floor. I thought to myself, well this isn't so bad- this stranger is actually pretty cute so I let him set me down on my feet and I proceeded to dance with him- BIG MISTAKE. Within 5 minutes of being twirled around the dance floor the drunken cowboy proceeds to kiss me and when I resisted proceeds to grab my neck and try to force his Budweiser-dripping tongue down my throat. In comes the fight scene, and by fight scene I mean me beating the cowboy with my hat before quite literally running off the dance floor in horror. As the night got longer the men got more drunken-hulk like aggressive with over half the male population quite literally tearing their shirts off and abandoning the remaining shreds of fabric off the floor. Interesting fact, apparently it's very popular for the men at this event to take some drug named "G" which is actually short for GHB, you know, the date rape drug. Apparently when men take it they turn into the over-sexed patrons of the Calgary stampede.
So in conclusion, if I had to sum up stampede it would be a giant orgy filled with horny zombies where everyone is required to wear western-inspired party cloths and leave their morals and sense of social mores at home in exchange for a multiple-day stint of exchanging partners and diseases. It was an experience which left me shocked and feeling mildly victimized.
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