Germany - The land of my dreams

If Only Everyone in Germany was this cute, I'd fuck 'em all

If someone were to drop into my dreams (preferably naked) and look at what I am thinking on a daily nightly basis, not only would they vomit and probably see alot of nugget porn (dont look it up, I swear it will kill you, but i know you will, so in that case i will just explain that it is a mythical, as of yet undiscovered, form of porn that involves quadrapelegics, and is highly offensive) but they would also see a country resembling Germany, without the trees made of gumdrops and the buildings made of gyro meat. LONG SENTENCE ALERT.
I was surprised to discover that not everyone in Germany looks like Augustus Gloop, saurkraut is actually not that popular and that there aren't fetish festivals with people with spikes on their head dancing to Rammstein (though Shane wished that there were).
   Germany is the type of place that can produce Hitler and sauerkraut and still be the greatest place on Earth.  Granted, there are things in Germany that were frankly terrifying, such as the footlong rats that were in the park where we held a BBQ (true story) and the footlong penises that Lisa oggled, but other than that it could not have been improved.
Let's start with the basics, in Germany you can drink all over the streets, as in you can carry a beer bong down the streets and use it and people will high five you and tell you that you are too sober or you can pour vodka in your eyes at the local convenience store and destroy your vision and liver simultaneously, but legally as well.  This makes pre-gaming not a stagnant, 'hey lets play some pitbull cause he makes me want to party,' type of affair, but rather a, 'lets go biking a drink a beer in the middle of the street,' sort of thing.


Imagine This Having Sex

 Secondly, everyone smokes cigarettes in germany, the babies come out with camel reds in their mouths, and the old grandmas will debate the merits of marlboros or american spirits with you for hours.  This means that cigarettes also cost 2 euros for a pack, which delighted lisa to no end, i counted only seven minutes when she did not have a virginia slim (ironic) in her mouth. 

We tried to tell her, but she wouldn't listen

The music at the bars isn't the generic, 'i cant sing but I will because Americans are stupid and only listen to singles and songs without guitars or talent and listen to the EXACT SAME music every night at bars because their brains are too small to process anymore than forty songs over a lifetime,' and there are bars that will play all of the Red Hot Chili Peppers' Stadium Arcadium on a Friday night because that's what bars should do.  Additionally these bars don't close until four or five in the morning, further making America look stupid, the beer is better than your mother ever told you sex would be, and the weiner schnitzel would turn any man gay. 
Also its 11:58 and I have class in five minutes, the rest of Germany will have to be explained later, I'll finish you guys off then
moment of zen

Shane hooked up with him

Just Solved World Hunger*

I meant my own hunger, boom falafel sandwich...that is all

It's no coincidence that Greece started rioting right when Lisa came to town

Some facts about what I have seen in Europe, mixed with one lie, if you guess which one I'll give you Lisa for free

One of the skinnier women we saw on the beach

Beaches are a little different here, some people are allowed to be topless, but there is a law, slipped into Greece's constitution, that only women who have long since lost any sexual desirability are allowed to walk around topless.  Another rule is that their tits have to sag at least one foot, otherwise they are unable to take off their tops, thank god for democracy.  In other news most men are allowed to wear speedos, especially if they are recovering frat boys from the united states who think they still have it.  Also greek men have the innate ability to grow their chest hair out to the length of grass that hasnt been cut for two weeks, so long that the hair pokes through their shirts all over, looking like plants germinating out of the ground in the spring.  The greeks also have an infatuation with economic depression and abysmally high ranges of debts, you can often see ruined businessmen masturbating to falling stock prices and prodigious public policy spending projects, its an odd fetish, but makes sense in this part of the world.

A close up view of Lisa's Head, day one

Lisa immediately took a liking to the greek ideals of "bathe once a week or not at all" and has been steadily acquiring the musk of a slowly rotting caribou carcass, with multiple lice communities holding powwows in her hair and more than a few beetles taking refuge in her warm orifices.  Personally I think it was a welcome change from her various perfumes and 'lovely scents' that reeked of capitalism and reminded me of something ayn rand would have enjoyed wearing, such decadence I have never before smelled.  One riotous moment was when lisa boldly declared "i'd much rather go down on THOSE donkeys," professing her disdain for the donkeys she had previously ridden with wild, lustly, abandon earlier in the day.  Only a truly evil woman can move between her various partners (of various species) with such nonchalance and  capriciousness.  Now though I have to go rub sunscreen on a few greek women who have just been dying for me to penetrate them, understandable considering the tight black leather pants I wore to the beach yesterday.  Good thing its not lent and I can use protection again, only god (who doesn't exist) knows that I am much too promiscuous for my own good.  I apologize for the brevity of this experience (I meant to say that to these women, not you guys).
 Moment of Zen:   There are packs of wild dogs running all around greece because it is actually illegal to euthanize a dog or cat, during the day these animals are nice and cute but at night they run around barking and yelping at everything that passes, and attack people if they are not fed and taken care of.
That is greece

A cat ready to do battle with the humans at night

How a Moroccan man accosted us in a Diner and the truth about London's dental problems

Long time no blog you fuckers...mad love yo...

Story time involving a confused Moroccan Pilot commencing now...stories also being combined and hedged with fantastical elements at the same time (90% true in other words, opposite of the Mormon bible is what I mean).  We, as in me, squeegle and that loathsome cancerous tumor that some call Lisa, were eating at a pancake bar, basically Ihop with a touch of class and imagination, hella sweet.  Beej, being a pervert, ordered a pancake with strawberries, syrup, whipped cream, chocolate, some dutch syrup and the hopes and dreams of kenyan children, just because he thought he was man enough for it.  Turns out his stomach has the constitution of Soviet Russia (none), and he quickly vommed up the entire meal, which for him consisted of four or five paltry bites.  After that embarrassing episode, which nearly caused a friendship ending row between us a deranged and putrid smelling moroccan ambled over to our table and sat down as if he has been invited by the queen of england.  He began talking in an odd morrocan/dutch/english hybrid language that resembled ET talking with his mouth filled with cheerios.  Needless to say it didnt make as much sense as he had hoped, and though we continually told this man that we did not speak freaky deaky dutch (or any of the other dialects he was spewing) he continued to tell us, presumably, about how his cat had been eaten by a prostitute, or something like that.  For awhile he somehow got his act together and told us he was pilot for the royal moroccan airwaves and that his favorite songs were 'yellow submarine' and 'dont cry for me argentina' (not making this up children) and said that hag bag lisa looked like 'victoria beckham' (which i think is roughly equivalent to Jabba the hutt in our culture).  All I know is that I hope he never ever pilots a plane that is in the same time zone as me as his brain was obviously more addled than a sober irishmans. So ends story time.

----the beej amongst his peons----

                  After this disturbing incident (the guy also flopped 'it' on Lisa's leg, apparently a traditional moroccan mating ritual, and of course she took the bait and tackled it with panache right at the table) me and Beej finally detached ourselves from the magnetic personality of lisa 'im fascinated with prostitutes because I am one' petersen and traveled on to London, the town of a million ethnicities and no teeth.  Of course beej reserved the hostel that was 14 miles from the city center, because he forgets that not everyone can walk an entire city block with one step, selfish as always.  In between seeing trafalgar square, big ben, some women with cankles the size of sequioa trees, and westminster abbey in all its sinful splendor, we came to some important conclusions about the culture of the United Kingdom - it is completely okay for bald men to wear skin tight purple pants that go halfway down their lower leg complete with chuck taylors, the beer in the United States tastes like swill when compared to the cheapest British beers, there are more Indian people than British people in that nation's capital, causing a severe downswing in the hotness of the country, Australia is like Canada, people will make fun of anyone who is from there without mercy until they are down on the ground crying, and this is how it should be.  In addition double deckers buses are quite scary when they are barreling right at you, no one likes to pay less than nine dollars for mixed drinks there, the symbols for the 2012 olympics look suspiciously like a blowjob ceremony between two consenting males and seeing shakespeare under the stars is a life-changing sort of experience.
----------just think about it-----------

     In other news the hostel that beej and i stayed at continued its steady decline on tripadvisor due to two gruesome reviews that we published concerning its desultory treatment of its occupants.  First of all we didnt realize we had ordered the urine smelling sheets, it was quite the mistake to check that box on the reservation, one I wont make again.  The hostel also failed to make it clear that the only occupants allowed besides us were fourteen year old german students who were obligated to run around screaming at seven in the morning simply because someone commented on their facebook page that there was a Jew in town.  Additionally no hookers were provided, the heroin syringes were previously used, and the world champion of snoring slept in my room, able to destroy civilizations with his tumultuous snores.  Lastly, and most grieviously for all involved, Beej had to share his bed with a troll that resembled the largest corn fed pig at the 2010 Minnesota State Fair.  I guess that wasnt the hostels fault though, beej was just really hungry and knew he could get some good fashioned bacon grease from nelly fourchins and he went for it, because we all know the beej is unstoppable in the 250 lbs and up category.
 

----beej with his prized lady pig, moments before hiring a crane to taxi her to the pussy parlor, as he dubbed his bed------

    Other curious (and curiouser) london occurences revolved around walking down abbey road and searching far and wide for kate middleton's royal vagina, only to be disappointed that she was jaunting around canada with her balding husband.  Bulllllllllllllshit.  Also the rumors about those stupid guards are false, it is not okay to throw handfulls of cocaine in their face, this is not the tradition as reported in many news outlets.  Beej was dismayed that recreating the Red Hot Chili Peppers abbey road album cover (see below) is actually illegal, and right now he is (hopefully) being extradited back to the United States, god bless him and his delicately tiny penis.  He probably shouldnt have smacked that british bartender and screamed 'this is for the boston massacre!', but sometimes ardent patriotism gets in the way of sound logic.
---------what beej did in London, I wouldnt advise you follow ---------

  Til next time, stop being jealous.

Moment of Zen - an irish man said "there's 14 feet in an inch right?" and we wonder why the english tortured and murdered them for 800 years

Donations Wanted, Stuck in Amsterdam, Wire money Immediately!!!

Sorry everyone, didn't mean to make your little hearts palpitate, I know how much your present lives are intertwined with my current well-being.  But I wont pay you back if you already wired the money, I run on a no-refunds policy.  Back to the heart of the matter though (don henley style), about my espionage mission concerning the drunken wanderings of Lisa "dr. evil" Peterson, that ever hateable jew.  I was forced to departure from the tropical wonderland of iceland, where you can conveniently purchase flattened fish chips (literally chips made of dried fish) and look out at a desolate, i mean beautiful, wasteland.  After catching the train from the amsterdam airport, which left at 420 (every train leaves at 420, it makes commuting in this town incredibly confusing, distinguishing the early afternoon 420 from the late evening 420 is a cultural milestone that few natives are ever able to successful travers), I saw a tall, lanky, slightly retarded looking, gentleman stumbling down the street, and, just on a hunch, I yelled, as is tradition, "BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEJ".  To my surprise the lummox whirled about as if being accosted by a copper and lumbered towards me with his arms open in some sort of friendship gesture. 
       Apparently he, in his infinite awkwardness, was hugging me, and for a moment, as we embraced, the world stood still and I forgot that Darfur was happening.  Our hostel was filled with the most irrefutable sorts of people, those type of college age kids who think that gettin 'highhhh' and 'wasted' is cool, not the sort of crowd we were expecting.  There was not any urine present on any of our beds (oh yea Dr. Evil was here too, forgot to mention) and there was a coffeeshop not far away, so it was easy, with but a few deep breaths, to feel like you were at the Garden of Eden.  We saw Anne Frank's house, but beej couldn't get in because the rumors are apparently true that jews are incredibly short, his head kept knocking the priceless ceiling and his arms could not help but collide with unreplacable glass lamps and chandeliers, so I had to enjoy it with the others (some girls whose names are not of consequence, are they ever?) (though their names were actually Lindsay, Jo, Liz and Christina, if I may indulge the audience).  I had never heard of anne frank, or the nazis, or the holocaust, before, but all in all it was a delightful tale involving racial profiling, religious persecution, and laughing gas, a joke factory of sorts.  In order to continue the miles wide smile I had stemming from Anne Frank's heroic victory I ordained that we should commence to the coffee shop.  As a microcosm of the many coffee shops we entered in the following days I will describe this one to those who are not aware.  Coffeeshops, misleadingly, do not serve all that much coffee, only some milkshakes, cheap coffee, and ridiculously bad tasting tea.  So you're thinking, 'well that sounds fucking lame, what square would go to a coffee shop, especially with LISA!?,' well, first of all, shut the fuck up, and second of all, listen here. 

At the far end of the coffee shop is a display that was enough to make the existence of slavery okay while simultaneously erasing the ill-effects of pollution worldwide.  In neat little cubbies, much like kindergarteners store their coloring books, were large, lage boxes of cannabis, weed, dro, hay, grass, hashish, green goddess, God, Jesus, or whatever you wanna call it.  Dozens of varieties existed and there was a detailed menu explaining the nuanced of feelings each one would give to the body once imbibed.  My personal favorite explaination was "unreal...it will be the best feeling of your life," I'd say that was probably an apt description.  After openly discoursing with the 'dealer' you are able to take large quantities for relatively cheap prices back to a table where all sorts of rolling may commence.  Never before have I been so embarrassed as when I failed to adequately rolling a 'joint,' that's what kids these days call them at least, and was called out by the waitress, who proceeced to undo all that I had done because 'it sucked.' 
              Now, I haven't had sex yet, but I doubt it would be better than the dawning of the coffeeshop age of my life, kinda like the Middle Ages after the Dark Ages, no comparison.  The next day was filled with a bizarre adventure involving a brownie, that, unbeknownst to my virgin blood stream, was LACED WITH THE DESTRUCTIVE AND LIFE-DESTROYING CHEMICALS SCIENTISTS CALL THC BUT SMART PEOPLE CALL 'SIN.'  If i had known that the brownie had been filled with such a dangerous chemical, one known to cause feelings of euphoria, extreme happiness, heightened sensation, better discourse skills, social confidence, increased logic and rhetoric, as well as the ability to make one feel like a pulsating laser beam gun, I would surely have refused the shady baked good (not to mention the lack of memory loss or discernible impact on long-term brain functions, such danger).  But, sadly, to the dismay of my puritannical views, I was duped into consuming this sinful good (may God forgive me in his infinite benevolence), and me (and bryan james englebert, hereafter Gumby) went on a journey (with Dr. Evil) that bordered on insanity.  In short we saw wizards, gorillas with axes, men painted gold, other wizards painted silver, a trumpeter painted all silver, a contortionist who put his entire body through a tennis racket while still spinning a glass orb on his head, V from V for vendetta, a 20 year old man with forty pigeons nesting on him, an indian mime, the grim reaper, a green cowboy, walking skeletons, scream masks, oh, and a van full of clowns (this is the part of the blog that is, legitimately 100% true).  I have never been more flabbergasted in my entire life, merely thinking about all this makes me relive mental trauma I never thought I would be able to talk about again, where are you DR PHIL!!!
     Oh, and we also discovered that Dutch bouncers hate Americans, rarely letting us into clubs, women do really stand in windows in lingerie pointing alluringly at everyone who passes (and often a well-gelled 40 year old walks in, only to walk out in 15 minutes looking supremely satisfied, who knows what goes on in there!?!?!!?), there are actually tree houses in the middle of parks where you can roll your first successful joint (i mean watch some stranger), vaporizing bars with volcanos are really fun (again, only to watch people, that shits incredibly destructive to your long-term health), heinekens brewery is a real mindfuck, C5 sativa is the ONLY evidence that God is real, and watching Lisa Petersen eat a burger is just about the most disgusting thing I have ever witnessed.
Probably forgot about alot of sinful, drug-related things I SAW people doing, but that'll do for now.
Tune in next week for - Lisa puking in a toilet all night after merely watching a bottle of beer roll across the ground and keeping up the entire dorm room (which included two canadian girls, who, yet again, looked nothing like terrance and philip, what the hell)

moment of zen: Lisa after one joint

Also - exclusive preview/rebuttal/truth bomb

What (and who) Lisa Really Did in 'Africa'?

No doubt you have all been forcibly coerced to read Lisa's impenetrable, lengthy and dense account depicting her humanitarian mission to the 'malnourished' country of 'Kenya.'  But,like TMZ, I have received the inside scoop and would like to share all the knowledge I have received, briefly of course though, otherwise I'd be like that windbag.  From Chicago Lisa flew directly to Amsterdam, where she stayed in a Jabba the Hut-esque stupor, for the next three weeks.  In no short time Lisa became a smoke-filled sac, incapable of indulging in the normal pursuits of mankind, including walking and eloquent conversation.   In short she developed the ability to constantly, incessantly blow smoke rings into contorted shapes, even the image of Justin Bieber, much like the Smoking Caterpillar.  As I visited all of the local coffee shops the devastation that Lisa had wrought on this peaceful, unaware, town, was obvious.  The owners were entirely sober, their eyes were open and untinged by redness, and the jars of OG Kush, Trainwreck, Ak47 and C5 Sativa were entirely empty, all that remained in ay of the shops were piddling portions of snicklefritz, barely enough to get Zazu high.  Littered over her kingdom, located in the middle of the red light district, were blunts that would probably have even impressed this kid. 

There were no longer any women working in the windows of the Red Light District, because Lisa had entirely usurped the prostitution industry for the entire town.  People were walking in and out of her gaping vagina like some sort of revolving door that holds up a domed football stadium.  Yes, I know this is revolting, but it's the truth, OJ did it people, Lisa did OJ too...more to follow

June 11th. 2011 Safari

• Van full of clowns. 
• Disappearing wizard
• Smurf
• V
• Scream Killer
• Grim Reaper
• Werewolves
• Two gorillas
• Goldskin
• Contorionist twisting body through a tennis raquet
• Green Cowboy
• Copper Statue Painted Man
• Bizarre Train strike in Czechslovakia
• Sex Museum
• The End

Part 2 was very short because i got high (afroman)

What I am going to do right now is writing every single thing that I have seen Lisa Petersen do in Europe the past 48 hours in seven minutes.  Also my own adventures will be featured in a co-starring role, much like Mini Me to her Dr. Evil (which she will be hereafter be referred by), because I'm the man.  MY time on the run from the law began with a disastrous plane stay in Canada, which certainly deserves all, and if not more, discrimination and persecution, never have I been to such a land of inadequacy and fat chicks.  These Canucks appear to not understand the benefits of the rigid time system developed in the United States, land of the free indeed, and therefore decided it best and necessary to ground a perfectly swell flying machine due to a weak, almost erectile dysfunction like, gust of wind. This story is not progressing as I wished it to, I will be back to blog more at a later date. This is what we, in the biz, like to describe as a sneak peek, like the previews in the movie theater for Green Lantern, which I promise will pale in comparison to the literary achievements of my following blog.

'Bout to Leave Yo

Disclaimer - not all views and opinions and 'facts' and sentences in this blog and its follow-ups are necessarily true.  Rather its like the bible, some good ideas mixed with a ton of shit that is steeped in metaphor but not necessarily truth; but dont worry I'm a religious studies major so I can say stuff like that and its not offensive, its in my degree!
Grammar nazis beware, i get off confusing their/there/they're and your/youre
     
   Maybe you all heard, or maybe you didn't, i don't really care.  But i got a grant from alcoholics anonymous to travel the world this summer and find out why so many people are alcoholics around the world. i.e taste all the alcohols available and rate them and recommend which ones should be banned if we are to continue this civilization thing.  So i'll be informing everyone about how that holier than thou mission goes.  For the most part though I'll be embarrassing America like George Bush and Dick Cheney never thought was possible, any damage they did to the international view of democracy will surely pale in comparison to my exploits. 

       In other news the undertone of my deployment (so to speak) is to keep an eye on Lisa Petersen, and make sure she doesnt cause an international crisis, which the state department has feared for years.  It took a team of trained agents to keep her in check in australia, and now that job falls to me.  I'll make sure to report back on how many goats she tries to seduce and whether or not she falls for multiple pyramid schemes in a single day.  So I'll have my hands full there, and then on the side I have to video tape bryan james englebert running in three different countries, because everyone knows he looks like a white, bleached gumby when he runs, so that'll be on the youtube before you can blink and say "justin biebers a whore."

If you are able to parse through the bullshit and sarcasm in here and decipher what actually happened all summer with me and Lisa, well then you have too much time on your hands and should go masturbate or do something more useful.  I'll be constantly propositioning Lisa to sleep with me, because Lord knows I want genital herpes.  Somewhere in this journey me and Lisa are going on a fake (or so she thinks) honeymoon to santorini, where I hear the nude beaches are quite lovely this time of year.  Good thing I recently naired my entire body so I'll be looking something like Michael Phelps out on those beaches, if Michael Phelphs was skinny, emaciated and looked like he recently had a wretched bowl movement and enema

.

When I'm not getting kicked out of clubs for being devilishly funny and a bit of an egomaniac Lisa and I are hard at work considering the various ways to end the Palestinian/Israeli conflict.  So far we have written down on this piece of paper, "bake sale," "bean bag competition," and "convert to atheism so there aren't any goddamn religious things to quibble about," I'm a big fan of a bake sale, nothing brings together disparate cultures like white chocolate macademia cookies. 

But what I really wanted to say (santeria?) is that I'm leaving for Amsterdam on Wednesday so if you care at all about my pathetic, inane, vapid, boring, egocentric, wasteful, debilitating, debauched existence in the least you can read what my frantic and fragile mind is thinking on this.  I'm thinking about posting the video of my circumcision when I get to Israel on here (thoughts!), i think it would be a brilliant way for people to get to know me !!!

I'll keep everyone thoroughly up to date on how many times lisa gets lost (over under is 8, anyone wanna bet?), and I promise I won't do anything stupid all summer.

I leave you with the moment of zen

If pictures are a thousand words, and black men really do have huge penises, then this picture is worth your weight in gold - this is my summer
Tune in next week for "what happens between Lisa and Farmer Williams goat stays between Lisa and Farmer Williams goat" (goat jokes are always funny)