Wanna Join the Pen-15 Club?

Three weeks ago, my three week program in London ended (currently going through London withdrawal). I stayed a couple more days, so it hasn't been a complete three weeks since I was in the UK, but it sure feels like I visited three years ago. I've been reflecting on my time abroad, and I realized that even though I was only there a relatively short time, I learned a lot, and I learned something really important.

England is obsessed with penises.

Seriously.

Not that the United States doesn’t have its share of wang-related items or places (ever visit the Washington monument or eat a hotdog or watch a Disney movie?), but when I was in London I came across something that resembled, reflected, or reimagined male genitalia nearly every day.

I began to come to this realization after visiting the Portobello Market (mushrooms resemble castrated junk) while walking towards the nearest Underground Station (trains are basically the "Johnsons" of transportation). Anyways, I heard a man yell, "You're a wanker" and now here we are.

Let’s start off with something big and sturdy, something that will last for a long time: the Gherkin. Actually its real name is the “30 St. Mary Axe,” but people refer to it as “The Gherkin” because it looks like a pickle, which, in turn, resembles the 21st digit. Trust me. If you say “pickle” to any knowledgeable 4^th-6^th grader, he or she will giggle with delight. This pecker-shaped building extends out beyond the surrounding buildings of the financial district, allowing any lost wanderer to find her or his way around the area.

Not only is there a building that looks like a trouser snake, but there are buildings named with variations of the term for the one-eyed monster. Dirty Dicks is a pub right down the road from our dorm. A group of lost classmates wandered into Famous Cocks—they really liked it there, too.

Food is even phallically inclined. You’ve probably heard of “bangers and mash” – Arrested Development, anyone? If you haven’t, bangers and mash consists of sausages on a bed of mashed potatoes. Maybe a weiner is too obvious, but still there it is, staring you in the eye.

But the  food doesn’t stop there. One adventurous girl on our trip ordered the “spotted dick.” We all gave a sigh of relief when the waiter did not pull down his pants to show a diseased member. Instead, a cake-like food with currants (think raisin) was plated underneath a sea of custard-type sauce. She said it was good and swallowed the whole thing. I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t the first spotted dick she’s consumed.

Ok, so that’s only five or so things, and I was there for three weeks. Maybe it isn't London that is obsessed with da' junk. Maybe I just have a really dirty mind and make a lot of what I see somehow related to winkies. And maybe the only thing someone sees when they marvel at the Washington monument is an obelisk that commemorates the U-S-A's first president.

Oh, I almost forgot another famous London landmark.

Say what you will, but Big Ben looks just enough like a willy that I felt it my duty to include a picture here. Perhaps try squinting and leaning your head to the side.