USA, All the Way!

It's been a month since our trip; now we're back in the best country on God's green earth. While we were abroad, we kept track of how much the rest of the world worships at our the USA's feet. We'll try not to offend any of the awesome foreigners we met in Europe. We're not making any promises, though.

The U.S. Army and McDonald's at Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin. Yup, pretty American.

And, apparently, the "soldiers" are actually strippers. They get picked up in a stripper van at dusk every night. Let's just say we threw them a few singles.

Kendrew, chugging while daydreaming about baseball and apple pie.

Frandrew, daydreaming about the male strippers on the other side of the checkpoint.

Hearty German breakfast.

A sailor? Um...good man!

Hearty lunch in Cesky Krumlov.

F-ing Paris. Stealing our idea to assign numbers to our subways. 

NASCAR and baseball. That's what we do!

Kendrew thought some of Hefner's tricks would help him out  with the European ladies.

Paris sucked so bad that we sat in our hostel watching American TV and getting hammered. SPARTACUS!

There are assholes in Europe, too.

Gay or not, we claim both of these guys.

Doritos in Amsterdam. Notice what they're called. Yeah, we're pretty sure American delis don't sell any chips called "Cool Dutch."

Is this Japanese, Dutch, or American? We'll go with American, because the USA is the undisputed video game champ of the world.

Keep trying to look like an American.

Hearty dinner in Amsterdam.

Crappy name for a bar, awesome decorations.

Hearty brunch in Dublin.

American football, the only kind of football there is.

Milwaukee, where the liquid cheese flows like wine and the obese women instinctively flock like the salmon of Capistrano.

Dublin prepared for our arrival.

Different box, same cardboardy goodness.

Same bottle, same delicious goodness.

Kendrew wanted to examine her amber waves of grain.

Back off, Berlin! You can claim his musical "talents," but this is 100% American. (Trust us--click on that link.)

From cheek to shining cheek!

Berlin wall. Suck it, USSR!

We are not exaggerating when we say we ate at Mickey D's or the B.K. Lounge in every city we visited.

Chippy!

Kendrew preparing to audition upon our return home.

Even Aussie Suzie knows who the world's greatest superpower is.

The G.O.A.T. in Prague.

Brad Pitt in A River Runs Through It. No sexier man has ever been created. And, yes, we argued about this for a good hour at the Museum of Beer in Prague. Frandrew won the argument. Brad wins.

We eat those.

The King of Beers, Czech-style.

KFC Delivery? Maybe Europe is better than the USA in some ways.

Hearty linner in Prague.

Why is there a foreign language near our flag?

Oooookay.

The South will rise again, as they'll tell you in Dublin.

Kendrew showing his true colors.

USA rules! Sorry we're not sorry.

Livin' on the Dole

This blog post will cover our trips to Brussels and Dublin. The 'drews only spent 20 hours in Brussels, then had an awesome four days in Dublin! By, the way for those of you that don't know what the dole is (Kendrew didn't), it's the Irish equivalent of welfare, except it pays extremely well. We basically spent a long weekend on the dole, except we weren't getting paid, just being skells.

All the 'drews did in Brussesls was sit in Kendrew's top bunk and watch Spartacus.

And drink beers, of course.

After 24 hours of drinking, watching American TV shows, and traveling on the worst airline imaginable, the 'drews booked the first hotel room they came across. Then they slept for seven hours.

Kendrew noticed Frandrew's calf had a monster bruise. We think it's from Cesky Krumlov, when we were jumping up from the tables while playing "King's Cup."

GO IRISH!

Frandrew with the first of a million ND signs we saw.

Temple Bar--We think this guy is important.

The damn Irish drive on the wrong side of the road. We thought Frandrew was going to get hit by a car. Luckily for us, Dublin has directions on the street.

We know it's not Cortland's Dark Horse Tavern, but it brought a tear to Kendrew's eye.

Howth. Thanks to our Irish mate Garreth!

Seemed important at the time.

"Boats 'N Hoes"

Garreth called it the "Famous O'Connell's Tavern," then we found out it had only been open for like three months.

Ridin' dirty. Again.

Kendrew was limping around like a wiener after possibly breaking his heel while jumping off a wall in Paris.

 

 

On a cliff walk in lovely Howth. Brilliant!

The French girl that took this photo said, "You may not like it, but I think it's cool.  Like, Face-Buke." Face-Buke indeed, Nina.

Brian, a mate we met for about four minutes.  Didn't stop him from sharing his vino.

Ridin'...well, you know.

Kendrew with the bartender (Rochee? Yoshi?) at O'Connell's.

                                                 Really, Howth? The Cock Tavern and The Bloody Stream?  We can understand O'Connell's and The Abbey Tavern, but this is just taking it too far.  But, yes, we love it.

Frandrew flew solo on an adventure in the morning.  He ended up having a German dude take a picture of him in front of the General Post Office, site of the 1916 Irish Rising.  Kendrew hadn't gotten home until 9am, so he didn't exactly regret missing the adventure.

Hey, we found Mattie Lee!

Hi, Emily.

Hi, Little Gy. Get it? No "u"!

We're almost there!

Well, we thought so, until Matt got derailed by this horse he fell in love with. We actually never made it into the Guinness Factory, just the pub next door.

We gave him the honorary name of "Mattdrew" for the weekend.  Skellin' hard.

Mattdrew imagining the tap belonged to the horse.

The three 'drews with the Irish Guard.

Skells outside the Notre Dame pep rally.

Just doing what skells do.

At the pep rally.

Putting our skelldom on hold for one photo.

Then Kendrew stole these three signs from the stadium.

Kendrew free-loading in Mattdrew's five-star hotel.

The 'drews about to hijack a pedi-cab.

Ridin' dirty in the pedi-cab with Mattdrew at the helm.

Don't really know what Frandrew and Mattdrew are doing here. Kendrew was really freaked out.

Chillin' with the Dublin cops.

 

This Irish guy stole Frandrew's drink, then Kendrew nearly came to blows with him.  The guy was so intimidated that he gave Kendrew 20 Euro.  DOLE!

Kendrew pondering the meaning of life.

Kendrew's shoes were emitting the foulest odor Frandrew has ever smelt.  And Frandrew has to smell himself every day.  Luckily, Kendrew had Mattdrew's luxury hotel to freshen up.

When Mattdrew went to dinner with his parents, the original 'drews made themselves at home.

"Stay out of the room that we're not paying for, dammit!"

Hi, Bob.  Hi, Coll. Bob, you need to lay off the sauce.

Hi random girls.  Watch out, Mattdrew's about to go Hannibal Lecter on the taller one.

Mattdrew preparing to jump into the River Liffey.

Frandrew and Mattdrew after jumping off the bridge.  We later heard that this was one of the few things for which we could have gotten arrested in Dublin.  It's okay, though.  We were skellthy.