For the past few months, a group of fellow native English speakers and I have been getting together on Tuesday nights for the "Anglo-Saxon Swimming and Beer uber-night". Summer nights usually involved swimming in the lake for an hour and speaking in our native tongue over cheap Chinese or doner kebabs. More recently, however, it's become an opportunity for us to collectively exact revenge on the Swiss society that prizes passive-aggressiveness and taxes testosterone.
Lured out by Coronas and bad Mexican food, the inner dirty-joke telling, laundry-leaving, nothing-in-the-fridge-but-mustard-and-Altoids monster emerges. For the night, we are allowed to be the men that the Swiss despise - loud, nasty, ball-itching expats with L-cards. Alas, at the end of the night, the debaucherous monster retreats with the dying moonlight and isn't seen again for another 6 nights.
Long live ASS and BUNs, bitches.
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