I’m not normally extravagant or glamorous. I steal packets of honey from coffee shops and eat them as a “balanced meal” on a regular basis. So my decision to spend my hard-earned money on an 11 day trek through Europe surprised even me. But spend it I did. While it was my Spring Break, and was full of the usual Tom Foolery (ie too much alcohol and poor decisions), it was also a learning experience. Here is an uncultured American student’s guide to Europe.
I love a pun about fellatio every now and then. Europeans love penis as a snack food, and they aren’t afraid to say it.
My gay roommate Jared wanted to get his European bone on. We went to gay clubs to realize this dream. We saw straight couples making out and/or photobombing. Okay, Europeans – don’t get mad when we say we can’t tell if a tight -shirt –wearing, reflective-sunglass-sporting gentleman is “gay or European”. You aren’t making it any easier.
I get it. Europeans are a relaxed group, who invented words like “siesta” and “teatime”. However, unaccustomed to an 11-day whirlwind sprint through a continent, they have not invented the term, “to-go cup”. If you ask for one, they will become angry. To placate them, take artsy photos of your European cappuccinos and share them as you run to catch the next plane/bus/taxi/car/unicycle/portkey.
The Pope is God’s right-hand man (or left-hand, since I think God would probably be the creative type). Naturally, the Pope gets the sweetest digs on planet Earth. Why wasn’t his house featured on Lifestyles of the Rich and the Famous? I can just hear the narrators voice now, “He gets an entire city to himself, but that’s not all. The entire city is a gleaming white replica of male genitalia.”
(Am I the only one that sees it?)
I traveled through Hyde Park, St. James Park, and Queen’s Park in London. I saw this park with old ass aqueducts in Rome. I saw the Retiro in Madrid. Europeans go ape-shit for big open spaces, sprawling lawns, and tall trees. I am shocked that Parks and Recreation is not more popular on this continent, as it is a show clearly geared towards the main interest of most Europeans.
After a two hour, guided tour of important locations in Harry Potter’s world, I have come to this conclusion: J.K. Rowling deserves the Nobel Everything Prize. She placed the entrance to the wizarding world, “Diagon Alley”, on the real-life Charing Cross Road. Charing Cross Road has more bookstores than any other place in London. Charing Cross Road is the entrance to the imaginary world of books. Diagon Alley is the entrance to the imaginary world of Harry Potter. STEPHEN HAWKING CAN KISS J.K. ROWLING’S LITERARY ASS, THAT BITCH IS BRILLIANT.
I was going to do lots of math and use formulas and words like “percentage” to prove that midgets are underrepresented in Europe. Anecdotally, I saw one beautiful little man on my entire trip. This incontrovertibly proves my theory that Europe, while not lacking in pizza or croissants or men with questionable sexualities, does indeed lack midgets. Also, I just used incontrovertibly in a sentence. In their absence, please enjoy this picture of singing sensation William Hung.
Above is an image from the safety manual on a European airline. In case of a full-blown fire and/or poisonous gas leak, simply crawl on all fours to the rear of the plane. This nicely drawn image is absent from most American Airlines or United Airlines flights. Why? Because if there is a full-blown fire and/or poisonous gas leak on a small plane hurtling through Earth’s astronomic atmosphere at roughly 600 miles per hour, you are probably fucked. Americans do not bother with this cartoon in their safety pamphlets. Europe is home to my main man Hercules, so I understand where their beliefs on mortality originate. Perhaps a government-mandated viewing of Snakes on a Plane might burst their laws-of-physics-and-nature-don’t-apply-to-me-attitude. Newsflash, Euros: if Samuel L. Jackson gets scared on a plane, you sure as hell should be scared, too.