Over the past several days, my liver, dignity, and uncoordinated dance moves have been challenged in ways with which only a freshman frat boy can really identify. This is the first of a multi-part series chronicling the recent road to marital bliss of Ben and Julie. Today, let us examine the bachelorette party.
Exhibit A: note the innovative use of the glow-in-the-dark penis straw in a wine glass full of either champagne, beer, or Sparks. When comparing this drinking experience to other's I've had, I'll employ the phrase a friend used to differentiate Perkins from Denny's this weekend, "It's just classier."
Exhibit B: the T-shirts. In my experience, for a successful bachelorette party, you need T-shirts and catchy tag-line. Note both are present in the image below. I plan on wearing this shirt for part of every day for the rest of my life.
Exhibit C: Wherein all dignity is lost. The tagline on that t-shirt might have foreshadowed this next picture for some of y'all. This is me seconds after mounting the bull and seconds before giving up and sliding off the bull. There is some unfortunate video footage of the incident. Note: pants would have been a better option considering the evening's planned activities.
Thank God there are no real pictures of the dancing. I'm still sore because really? I was doing it wrong. All in all, it was an excellent and thoroughly memorable evening. Did I mention there was a limo? Because there was a limo, and it was awesome. Not since prom have I been in a limo, and that one certainly did not have a bar.
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