Peni$ on the dancefloor, so you better not kill the groove

This past friday was an amazingly fun night. It had the perfect combination of alcohol and absolutely no plan, with the promise of delicious brunch in the morning. It is on those rare nights where the world is at your fingertips and the possibilities of your life seem limitless that the most legendary of all tales are born. This night was no exception, and this tale involves the most legendary of all male appendages (or so the masculine gender would wish us to believe), yes that's right, this tale involves a Peni$. Ahh yes I have just uttered the one word in the english language that simultaneously captures the attention of both sexes. Now that I have you all in rapture, let's knock out some of the necessary details before we get to the climax (get it?) of this tale.

Friday night began at Svea, where a gaggle of us gathered for After Work. After Work for those of you not in the know, is essentially happy hour with free food. This particular place makes me happy for several reasons, but mostly because the food of offer is a smattering of variations of meat and potatoes (big meat thing with lingon berries, chopped up meat and potato hash, bacon, boiled potatoes, potatoes with carrots, potato soup, salad - who needs it, knackebrod with butter). After imbibing several libations, Jenny demanded we all head out into the night in search of dessert. As Jenny is a quite forbearing creature, and we were all too frightened to face her wrath, away we did go. And nirvana did we find (cake and cider/beer/ or wine for 55 kronor... a better deal has never been seen in this land!!).

Following our dessert detour, the party had dwindled to three, but what we lacked in numbers we made up for in spirit, and the desire to DANCE DAMNIT! After a little nifty texting, we secured free entry for all, and the mix of sugar high and devil's poison had made my already buoyant spirits soar. Within five minutes of entering the club, we purchased delicious cocktails, found a place to sit, had a boy ask us to watch his drinks but "please add some cosy drugs," and see his penis. (He was a STUD)

Told in that manner, this tale is no fun at all. What was fun however, was watching said boy unzip his pants, try to figure out what he was doing, see something coming out his pants, mistaking this something for a finger, then realizing it was actually his male genitalia, then shaking my head in sadness, looking at my friends, laughing in confusion, and then proceeding to continue drinking delicious cocktail.

But you see children there is a moral to this story, and it is simple. Unless you have a penis of legendary proportions keep it off the dance floor and keep it in your pants!!!!! Or if you are brett favre, keep it out of your sexts, and take off those heinous crocs! You see, this could have been the most amazing tale (you know the ones you will tell your grandchildren one day, but not your children, because you don't want your children to think you ever did anything besides study and work hard, and you just want your grandkids to think you are cool) of the night we saw an "one-eyed snake" that actually rivaled a life size anaconda. Or mistook his "length" -- learned this phraseology in cosmo this week... loving it! -- for a baby's fist. Nope we mistook his length, or lack there of, for a prinskorv (lil smokie for my americano's) and not in a good way.

Now for those, who for some compelling reason I cannot understand, wish to rock out with their cock out, be my guest under one condition. If you are going to partake in horribly inappropriate acts of public nudity, make sure you are at least going to impress the general public. If whatever body part you are exposing (this goes for men and women) is not going to be awe inspiring and cue a choir of angels, please just don't show it in public. There is a time and place for that, and that place is called at home, behind closed doors, and that time is called anytime I am not there. Bodies are unique and beautiful blah blah blah, I don't care, I don't feel the need to share, so keep it to yourself thanks.

As you can see, this is a topic I feel quite passionately about. Funny the things that strike a chord. If this post can persuade just one person to keep their clothes on in public, then I will consider it a success. In this overexposed world we live in today, there is something so beautiful about still having something private to share with that special someone you love. So let's all try just a little harder to protect our special spark... and this is the point I zoned out in health class... but I'm sure the end of that message was really powerful.... Why did we take health class in the summer? Followed by drivers ed in the afternoon, anyone remember how the creepy teacher used to make me sit up at the front of the class with him? Wow did I hate driver's ed...

Tangent aside, I leave with these parting words of wisdom: "It's better to leave some things to the imagination." Thank you for that one mom, I'm sure you applied that rule to your studying! I will pass it on to my children, right after I tell them how I had to walk uphill both ways to school!

Pay Day Hey Day!

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with anything I am about to talk about. It was taken during a sailing trip I did not attend.

This past Saturday I woke up to the most unusual weather... a clear sunny day. Excited about the prospect of actually getting some Vitamin D from nature, I eagerly threw on clothes, scarffed down breakfast (it was noon) and headed out the door. But alas in the 15 minutes it took me to prepare myself, the sun had been obstructed by the usual giant grey cloud that perennially covers Gothenburg (insert sad face emoticon). Since I was already out the door, it seemed a shame to turn around and go back to bed (an option I too frequently choose). So like my viking forefathers before me, I headed into the brisk with a burning desire to conquer.

Yes that's right, I headed to the shopping section of town. Look at my purchasing power parity now! As it was a Saturday, I wasn't immediately struck by the vast amount of people swarming about. And as I was in a good mood, I thought nothing of the awesome jams that were being blasted through loud speakers from many of the shops. It wasn't until I spotted the 300 pound blond mammoth of a male holding a small bright red cross body bag, that I realized something was amiss. You see it was at that very moment when it struck me, "OMG I am out shopping on payday Saturday!!"

You see one of the most fascinating aspects of Sweden is the spending habits of its beautiful well coiffed and clothed population. You see unlike in many parts of the world, Swedes are only paid once a month, and oh once they have been paid the party that unfurls! Unlike us Americans who put away money every month to eventually pay for our Liposuction or Kobe Beef addictions (depending which way you swing), Swedes don't have to save money for many of life's most vital necessities (as mentioned above) and instead choose to spend approx 75% of their paycheck within 48 hours of funding reaching their Swedbank/SEB/Nordea/Handelsbanken accounts. Of this pay check, approximately 48% goes to clothing/personal grooming, 50% to Alcohol, and the additional 2% to food and shelter (Disclaimer** all facts stated above have been created by the author).

The spending habits of Swedes was first brought to my attention during my Uppsala days. The week before payday you could get into any club of your choosing at any time of night and only other exchange students would be inside. The weekend of Payday... just stay home, or expect a lovely Lars to buy you multiple rounds of gin & tonics before booting on your vagabond boots (ok that story was false as well). Which can only happen if you get to the club by 3 pm to beat the long queue and ensure entry before 1 am.

I like when people have money. It makes me happy. It also makes me feel less guilty for using 100$ bills as toilet paper. I don't like when too many people have money at the same time. It makes lines for dressing rooms too long. That being said, I always like it when I have money. The End.