Toddtoberfest

From the rum-stained pages of Trader Todd’s logbook, somewhere between the Tropic of Capricorn and a good time:

Toddtoberfest.

Yes, you read that correctly.

Not Oktoberfest. No—Toddtoberfest. A celebration brewed in the heart of the tropics, aged in the barrel of mad genius, and served with a slice of hot pizza and a side of "what just happened?"

Under a sky full of stars and good decisions, we trade lederhosen for leis, bratwurst for bubbling cheese, and add a microphone to the mix because what’s a sea shanty if not karaoke in its purest form?

Picture this: a tiki-themed blowout where the beer flows freely, the pizza buffet never ends, and the siren song of karaoke calls every sailor, siren, and landlubber to the stage. You want giveaways? We've got giveaways—trinkets, treasures, maybe even a t-shirt that smells faintly of adventure and melted mozzarella.

The open bar gleams like the buried treasure it is, while voices rise and fall with the tide—some in key, others... not so much. But that’s the beauty of Toddtoberfest. It’s not about perfection. It’s about celebration, sea foam, and a good slice in one hand while the other holds a mic.

Toddtoberfest: A festival. A fever dream. A floating paradise of beer, pizza, and unfiltered joy.

Grab your tiki gear. Trader Todd's is boarding now.