Turns out
seven really is always the answer. (Also, Jessica Alba is a good guess as well).
Reminds me a lot of Greece for some reasons.
Speaking of which, rather than running an "out of 10" scenerio, I'll just sum together what i learned, since I'm come to view all experiences are neither good nor bad and simply as being.
Communication failures will inevitably fuck things up.
Jokes never translate well, but friends are made by laughing anyway.
When (Interpretive) dancing to a remix of the
"I wanna fuck you in the ass" song with Dutch girls, it's hard to keep a straight face. It's best not to try explaining why this is funny to you.
Getting back to my roots and taking work as a photographer only proved that while it was the best job i ever had, I'm rusty and may not have been that good at it.
Communications failure will get you smacked for photographing the wrong two girls. (It was her fiery Polish blood, I suspect)
Eating Greek bread is like walking up a sandy hill. Much more fun is walking up a sandy hill and then rolling down, but slightly less so when hung-over.
Your ears can hold a lot of sand.
A wingman, I've been told, has only three permitted responses: Affirmative, you've got the lead and.. err.. something else.
Wind surfing is not as easy as it looks but more likely than not, its faulty equipment.
Anatomically Perfect is a real thing.
It seems Europe has not produced any good music ever.
What do you call a person that speaks two languages? Bi-lingual. What do you call a person that speaks one language? An American. It's painful when everyone understands you, but has a secret language (or 3) with which they can hide their comments.
Sometimes a strip club full of Russian strippers is a case of human trafficking, and sometimes, after further investigation, it's just a good place to hang out.
The
Fiat Spider was built for the rural roads of Europe and bringing it to the US is like putting a beautiful bird in a cage.
When arranging a meeting with a Russian stripper who speaks 27 languages and could likely recover a year's salary from sale of your organs, always bring a buddy.
"In the name of science" is a pretty good justification for most things.
Sometimes a bouncer will smack you up when mistaking your American Machismo for British Hooliganism.
Americans will always dominate at a carnival games involving shooting a gun. (Unless there's some strange scoring system that you don't understand because you're an American and likely don't speak the native language.)
Gypsy children are devil-shysters with several dirty, underhanded moves that can incapacitate a grown man.
The Swedes are admirably stoic to the above mentioned moves.
body surfing is as fun as it sounds and you should always skinny dip, drunk or otherwise, in the ocean at dawn when the opportunity presents itself.
Europeans have no sense of distinction between "modern," "metrosexual" and "homo-erotic," which will often lead to fashionably dressed men dancing way too close to each other and scamming super hot babes.
Fresh orange juice is delicious.
High school-aged girls with tits of scientifically-improbable perfectness are too intimidated by American Machismo to dance.
Left alone in an airport, Quagmire will be found drunk and passes out, possibly kicking the girl on the bench next to him.
Europeans have never (until now) heard the toasts "A ring doesn't fill a hole," "If you can't come in her, come honer" or anything involving a Bill Murray quote.
I'm the best male dancer on the Island of Rhodes. I don't think many people realized this.
The dude on the beach will claim that he's losing money by renting his jet ski's are 10 euro/min ($14/min). He is not to be believed.
A dozen or so topless beaches full of anatomically perfect euro-chicks is one of those ideas, the goodness of which holds up well to scrutiny and scientific method.
It's pointless to argue gun-rights with a bunch of rave girls
Everyone in Europe under the Age of 25 has spent many months or years of their lives traveling to every corner of the earth. Corporate America is a life-choking bitch and if such a thing as a soul exists, ours have been sold for Nike shoes and I-pods.
In some or all Scandinavian nations, if a girl accepts a drink bought for her, its like agreeing on the spot to fuck you later.
A good hostel is like a disco with beds.
Polar Bear 7 and Iceman are good drinking buddies. Derek the Irishman is good at pool but I can hold my own against him and I think i can out drink him. Kristine the Canadian is disproportionately hotter than her two friends and I hope Bryon the Australian scored with her. Bryon the Australian is the first guy I've ever "picked-up" in a bar, that is, I saw him standing there alone, struck up a conversation and invited him back to our table were we (with many others to join later) drank merrily for the evening. Paul and Scott, though both staying in our hostel room, you guys would never have hung out with each other if not for our roaming party of American Gusto. As far as I can tell, Svetlana is the most interesting person in Europe and though she may be seeking a green card, she is NOT as it turns out interested in harvesting my Kidneys. And lastly, to the The Dutch girls we danced with for hours: You seemed to have unlimited energy and (perhaps it turns out, because of a communication failure) you weren't interested in sitting around and drinking while we recovered feeling in our legs. And even though i was merely jumping on the land mine for Quagmire, i felt a pain in my heart when I found my dutchette several days later in the same bar making out with 3 chicks... Perhaps we should have stuck around to see how that one was going to shake-out.
I guess that's it. To sum it up, i would recommend spending your last night/morning in Europe at a London rave (because you have no alarm clock and can't guarantee waking up for your plane.) at which point somewhere in club, you'll utter the words "I gotta catch a flight to Detroit." 4 hours from rave to plane.
21:58 AMENDMENT: After taking a quick, mind-clearing run, i realized i forgot two things.
First, everyone in the non-USA free-world seems to use Facebook. And no matter how many guy's email addresses you bring home from Europe, all exchanged with the promise of "I'll totally come crash at your place some day, man!" you girl friend will never accept your explanation of International Good Will when it comes time to explain the scraps of paper and napkins with the names and email addresses of girls from all over the world. Especially if one is a Russian Striper.
Second, it seems that Greece and possibly all of the warm places in Europe are full of scooters. This leads to an ABUNDANT number of super hot chicks riding tiny scooters in pairs. I call this phenomenon "
Two girls on a scooter" and every time i see it i think the world is a beautiful place and consider donating all my money to an orphanage. However the yang to this ying is the inevitable "Two shirtless guys on a scooter" which brings me back to my point about European men and perceived sexuality.
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