(Nearly) My Best Friend’s Wedding
Next Saturday–not this one, I don’t think or I better get cracking on my bridesmaid dress alterations–my best friend is getting married. I’m not a closet romantic, shit, I’m not romantic at all, but I’m pretty pumped about the whole union thing. It’s doubtful I’ll cry, unless someone passes too close with a Cosmo and I realize that Diet Coke does NOT taste like Cosmo even if you close your eyes.
(I’m all for a sip or three of wine or beer or something less, well, alcohol-y, while pregnant, but somehow a Cosmo, while in public especially, is not really my deal. It seems somehow tacky.)
But I’ve known Ashley for ages, known her since well before she met Mike (especially since I met her through one of her ex-boyfriends, who is a friend of mine), and I’ve been along for much of the ride with the wedding planning.
Like the dress shopping:
Or, perhaps, the pre-wedding T-bagging:
Because who doesn’t want to have some dude’s balls on you? NO ONE, that’s who.
But let’s back up a couple of years here, shall we? I’m going to tell you a story through pictures (my apologies to those who will now experience a slower page load. And although they look NSFW, they’re actually all harmless).
(Here I’m going to apologize again for my photos, which are pictures OF pictures. Because someone *ahem* THE DAVER *ahem* hasn’t bought a scanner for me to show The Internet how debaucherous I once was)
This is Paul:
He’s the dark-haired guy on the left, and he’s at my bridal shower with Evan–my man-of-honor. Paul is also the reason that I met Ashley. See, he’s an old, old friend of mine, and when I announced my pregnancy to him (before really meeting Ashley, who was sitting with him), he said, “I’m sorry.” To which Ashley took such offense that she began to yell at him for apologizing for my pregnancy. Because she’s right: no matter how inappropriate it is, you should always congratulate someone on their pregnancy. Right?
Any chick who does that sort of thing is my kind of chick.
Ashley and Steph threw my baby shower for Ben, and we had a blast. Unfortunately, I have no pictures of the occasion as Nat (who dat? He just my baby daddy) refused to give them to me. Douche.
In fact, because a whole lot of my pictures are lost somewhere or another (I lost a huge photo book when I moved. And no, I’m still not over it), a lot of our friendship has been undocumented. So let’s pretend that it was documented and move on, okay?
Fast forward to my bachelorette party. Ashley is my maid of honor, and she and KC have bestowed upon me the greatest gift known to me: that penis mug you see me sipping from. I may still have it somewhere, although I probably should pass the torch on to her, huh?
We were merrily sitting outside on my patio, waiting for the rest of my bachelorette party compatriots to arrive, lazily smoking some cigarettes, when the toilet overflowed. No one had dropped a dookie in it, or anything, the toilet just sucked. You could flush a single square of TP, and it would promptly overflow.
So imagine me, in heels and a dress, plunging the shit out of the toilet while 25 ladies with micro-bladders descended upon my house.
Then the doorbell rings.
At it?
Tommy.
My friend Dana (not pictured) had gotten me a stripper. Now, despite slurping on my penis cup, I was stone-cold sober. Dana, who had been caught in traffic, was not even present at the time he showed up. I was mortified. And sober.
And when I’m mortified, I laugh. Loudly, and with my mouth hanging open.
And apparently, my bright pink bra, too.
I couldn’t find a shot where I’d been t-bagged, like I wanted to, for comparison’s sake, but I did find this. I am taking a shot out of his thong, because I am classy. And I’m not sure a choice was given to me at this point.
I’m sorry, Ashley, I couldn’t find any shots of myself with balls resting comfortably on my forehead, but I tried. And I know they’re out there somewhere. Waiting for me to rediscover the only other man in 5 years to put his balls on my face.
But from now on, my dear sweet friend, Tommy will be showing up to all parties that I have a hand in throwing for you. Including baby showers. Oh yes, you’re not escaping the Happy Baby! Stripper experience.
You can thank me later. If you’re still taking my calls.
Now dish: I want some good bachelor/bachelorette party stories.
Your post brings back the nostalgia of planning my best friend’s bachelorette party…I’ve known her since 5th grade, mind you, and I thought some male nudity was called for. She didn’t agree, but I decided she was stupid and didn’t really KNOW what she wanted, so I talked the city baseball team into stripping at the bar….ah, fun times…
There’s nothing like a best friend you can do that kind of shit to!
PS she got revenge-unbeknownst to me, she managed to convince some dude at the bar that I was a hooker, and that I’d rock his world for $300…sad thing is, I was in college, broke and tempted…but no, I didn’t do it….I still harbor some regrets when I think of the shoes I could have bought with $300…
Well HELLOOOO Tommy! I can’t say I’d enjoy having a stranger’s balls in my face, but you guys sure looked like you were having fun. My friends took me to a male strip club for my 18th birthday, and there was a lot of nervous laughter on my part. None more than when the guy we dubbed “donkey dick” (that sucker was HUGE) started dancing, dangling his humoungus (sp?) thong-covered shlong in our faces. It was so embarassing.
You’re a brave woman, Aunt Becky. Very, very brave.
I was not blessed with a bachelorette party. My maid of honor is a bitch. However. When my bridesmaids get married, I’m sending a stripper gram. Since I’m clear across the country!
Oh yuck.
(But do show more when you find them!)
Was the shot glass Deep Throat brand?
I’ve heard they can be hard to swallow.
Bahaha. This is exactly why I protested when friends wanted to get me a stripper–I didn’t want a stranger’s balls in my face. LOL
I did not have one ;(, I was pregnant when I got married, and uh, not in the mood to watch some man swing his ‘t-bag’ around sober– ugh.
We went to 6th street in Austin where they were filming the current incarnation of The Real World. My drunk maid of honor wanted to get on the show, which was a show, itself.
My bridesmaid hired one male stripper (stripper A), then changed her mind and went with a different company (stripper A wouldn’t get fully nekkid and she decided that was a necessity) and canceled stripper A. Well, stripper A still showed up at my party (an hour earlier than she had hired stripper B to show up for) and we all erroneously thought he was stripper B. So he got his groove on and we were all screaming at him to take it all off and wondering why he won’t. So as he had moved on to embarassing my bridal party at my request, and had his head up the hostess’ skirt, stripper B showed up and was mighty pissed to see stripper A there. Apparently these two companies try to pull this crap all the time as they are rivals. I am picturing a way sexier rumble than the Jets and Sharks. So a stripper fight ensued. Tres funny. Stripper A was hustled out of there right quick and Stripper B did his thing, but refused to get nekkid because it turned out he had graduated from high school with the hostess’ little sister who was being corrupted at the event. Memorable. Love the idea of a Happy Birthday Stripper!! You rock, Aunt Becky!
This is 45 shades of awesome. Move here so we can party!
On my goodness!!
We were very tame. One friends party she had a T-shirt with a list of things to do. That was the most racy one I’ve been too – but relatively tame compared to the rest of the world. For mine, I stayed home and had a margaritta baccalaureate. 2 of my bridesmaids had just had kids (and were still nursing), so took it easy. It was awesome to just be low key and have time with them
After seeing those pictures, (no offense), I’m really glad we did. Glad you had a good time.
ewwwww!
As the resident lesbian here, um, what is “T-bagging?”
And again – ewwwww! 😉
I ‘ll be sitting by the door waiting for the doorbell to ring.
I’m a coffee drinker myself but I wouldn’t mind a tea bag or two.
Good Lord… I missed all of that (because I’m too much of a loser to have friends) and to be honest, I’m kind of glad I did (I guess it doesn’t help I’m far too much of an introvert too).
Do the male strippers have to arrive all greased up like that?
too funny, my bachelorette party was tame, but my co-workers (and in their defense they are also good friends) sent a stripper TO MY WORKPLACE!! nothing like experiencing a stripper in the breakroom right next to the pop machine!!! Stone sober is not the way to enjoy yourself…….and I had the annoying side effect of having my clothes covered in whatever oily substance he used to get so slick and shiny the rest of the work day!
My two best friends (who happen to be dudes) dressed up like village people (the construction worker and the cop) and presented me with “Pimp Cup” a huge cup with “PIMP” emblazoned on the side in rhinestones. Understated yet classy. Full of my favorite home-brewed beer. The boys then danced their little hearts out . While they did not t-bag me as we were in public – and I work closely with them everyday. They were two nerdy white nerds dancing (badly) for me which is worth its weight in gold. We spent the rest of the night getting smashed on beer and shots – by the end of the night I had dubbed them my “work husbands” foreva and eva. Amen.
Even if it WOULD otherwise be fine, there is something tacky about pregnant drinking in public.
Our bachelorette parties are usually just about going out and getting drunk and dancing like jerks. No strippers. Sorry to say.
I have no good stories..because when I was due to have my bachelorette party, I found out I was knocked up *sigh*
I can say that me and my friends have the MOST kick ASS baby showers ever.
we all get together, open baby gifts and the NON preggos have LOTS of booze..they are the most awesomest things ever!!
and I agree, balls should NEVER be on someones face. ever.
ew.
I have actually no stories. I have never been to a bachelor or bachelorette party – not even my own. I was so young we didn’t have one. But those pics look like you all had lots of fun. And tbag – holy crap!! Keep that away from me!!
You cannot do the follow gadget – its just a blogspot option (that I know of)
Not to be the “one-up” guy, but I might have you beat. Warning, this is a long story!
We went to Buffalo, NY for my bachelor party to watch the Patriots vs. Bills game. And while there, we went across the border to Canada for some adult entertainment.
The first thing we noticed about Canadian strip clubs is THEY’RE HUGE. There were 150 girls working there. The second thing is the lack of rules. Guys were routinely laying down on the floor with money sticking out of their mouths, and the girls would pick it up with anything but their hands. And these were $1 bills!!
So we got trashed. And when it was time, my best man tossed me down on the stage, put a $20 in my mouth and the Catholic school girl stripper went to town. At first it was pretty routine, but then I felt my belt being undone. Then, she sat on my face. I had stripper cooch on my face. But I was drunk and it was my bachelor party so what the hell right?
So needless to say, I can only see out of the corners of my eyes but I can hear my friends getting louder and louder. And soon the entire place rose to a fever pitch. All I could see was money floating down from everywhere. I had no idea what was going on. Then she slid down so she was reverse cowgirl on my crotch, leaned all the back so she was whispering in my ear and she said “Honey, you’ve been such a good sport. Sorry about this.”
And before I could say “Sorry about what?” she suddenly lifted my shirt up and whipped me with the belt. It hurt like a motherfucker!! It was all I could do to hold back the tears from my eyes. But when she hit me, the place absolutely exploded. Guys were just tossing money at her left and right, led by my best man who shouted “HIT HIM AGAIN, BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF HIM!” And so, with her college tuition money reflecting in her eyes, she continued to whip me until I ran off the stage. I had 95 lbs of stripper fury just belting me in the chest as hard as possible.
But that’s not even the worst part.
One of my buddies had just come back from Iraq and he was BLASTED. I’m talking nonverbal drunk. So when he saw one of the girls wearing a camo bikini and a belt made of bullets, he simply took out his wallet and gave her all the money he had and said “That guy (pointing to me). Bachelor. Get him.”
I had my back turned when a soft voice whispered “Your friend bought you a couple of dances in the back room.” I smiled and turned around to see what hot little number my friends had bestowed upon me…and that’s when I saw her. At least I think it was a her.
Have you ever watched wrestling? Do you remember Chyna, the female wrestler? Well this chick was a Chyna lookalike. She had the biggest muscles I’ve ever seen and she was brutish!! So she picks me up over her shoulder and carries me to the backroom. I’m in a panic. She strips down to nothing and tells me to relax. I do no such thing because I feel like I’m about to be prison-raped by this he-she.
She then says “Do you like Pokemon sweetheart?” I’m confused, but utterly curious so I bite and say no, but what the hell was she talking about. Then, she did the unthinkable. She pulled both sides of her hoo ha like it was made of silly putty, and started walking it up my thigh telling me it looked like Pokemon.
I was frozen with fear, but it wasn’t over yet.
Then she told me I still looked tense, so she had me make a thumbs up with my right hand. I complied. Then — and I swear I couldn’t make this up if I tried — she took both sides of her axe wound, stretched them out and tied them in a knot around my thumb. I repeat, I had a stripper’s hooch tied around my thumb.
That was enough for me. I ran screaming like a little girl from the champagne room and hid behind my friends. We left shortly thereafter and I’m still in therapy.
Stay out of Canada.
That is fantastic that you have kept Tommy in the family. Lucky, lucky boy!
For my friend J’s bachelorette party we all went out and got smashed downtown, and then went to see the male strippers. All was great! Until a familiar penis..um, I mean face…appeared on stage. As we sached down the aisle he shook his finger at me. Like I was the one almost naked, grinding on strangers for money.
Ya, so…he was the first guy I slept with after I left the X. Turns out he had a girlfriend, I found out and told her all the dirt. Needless to say, I didn’t get a lapdance that night!
My best friend got married this year. She didn’t want strippers. That was kind of a relief for me!
Ummm….what is t-bagging???
Kristine,
It’s when you have balls in your mouth. As in the guy dips his balls in your mouth as one would dip a teabag in hot water.
ohhhh i love a good story….but alas aunt becky…i have none.
I have been married twice and didn’t get a bachelorette party for either marriage AND I’ve NEVER been to a bochelorette party….
LAME!!!!
The Daver is a trooper!
Oh, man, let me tell you. For this one bitch’s bachelorette party, one of the bridesmaids got a surprise stripper and the bride had to get her son out of the house, then the toilet backed up, the bridesmaid showed up and missed the whole stripper show, and then one of the guests took her strawberry margarita into my car and I made her lie on the floor to avoid cops.
AND THEN we went to a drag show and had man boobs on display.
Oh, shit, dude. That was YOUR bachelorette party.
Oh dear,
my virginal eyes have never seen a poor girl get t-bagged. For this, I must thank you… it was priceless.
Nevertheless, I am glad we are not such good friends that you would be my bridesmaid, fair ’nuff?
I never had a bridal stripper. I did have a ‘snuck in the ladies night bar while under age’ story, but it still doesn’t beat the t-bag.
My bachelorette party was a weekend at a casino with the girls. Nothing super spectacular went on except a lot of drinking and a lot of gambling. Lucky for me I went home with an extra $300 in the end!
Haha, my bachelorette wasn’t as exotic. We (me & girlfriends) hung out at home first, eating pizza and chocolate while getting drunk on rose wine and watching some celebrity dutch couple get married on TV (while making snarky remarks), then got prettied up and hit the town.
I drank liquor shots all night, got free drinks, and we were hit upon by a whole hockey team that bought us drinks. I got no less than six times told that I shouldn’t get married and that they would be much better than my now-husband, and that they’d gladly show me how much better. I giggled and told them to buy me many more drinks before I’d even consider it. Got the drinks, went home singing, but didn’t get plastered or didn’t do anything stupid.
We had a blast. 🙂
(Meanwhile, my now-husband saw the best concert ever of our favourite band (myeah, we share a music taste). It’s not fair… some things you shouldn’t get to choose between! :D)
Mmm…balls to the face…good times!
Thankfully I don’t have those stories to tell yet, but yours sure made me laugh!
This is funny! You are really pretty too, you know?!!
I didn’t have a bachelorette party. We eloped. Neither of us got our party. Sad as it is, I don’t think I’ve ever been to a proper bachelorette party.
I’m sorry, but you can’t post tea-bagging pics and then ask me for my stories, because you know I got nothin’ anywhere near that!
i didn’t have a bachelorette party. but i’m going to go have one RIGHT NOW. and i’m not getting married to do it.
This is hilarious. I never had such a party for either of my weddings, but I don’t hold a grudge about that. Not a huge grudge. Well, ok, WHERE WAS MY STRIPPER BITCHES??? Ok, I feel much better now.
Umm, the only balls I had on my forhead were my drunk-ass husband’s. No bachelorette or bachelor for us. We wanted nothing to do with it.
Oh, and I love the look on your face while you grabbing for stripper boy with your tits hanging out. Fucking awesome photo!
The closest thing I got to tea bagging was an actual tea bag in my drink a a bridal shower my MIL and all the old neighborhood ladies hosted for me before I got married. Ain’t no party like an old lady party! Hey, Ho!
You have outdone yourself with the pics, the t-bagging and the happy baby stripper idea. I love adding to the list of things I absolutely must include in my future. You are so creative! Every pregnant woman needs a pair of strange, sweaty balls in her face to help her feel hot. I’m guessing Tommy’s were magnificent:)
And you, of course, are adorable.
I got nuthin’. Who could top those pics? 🙂
Never did have strippers at mine although I could share a story about me, my mother in law and Chippendales. Left you something on my blog.
That’s enough bachelorette for all of humanity, methinks.
Balls out.
We didn’t hire professionals at mine. I just had to run around town asking crusty old men and cute college youngsters to give me their underwear. Some of them did after changing in the bathroom, and a few rowdy ones stripped right in front of me to give them to me. I think my cousin still has all of those nasty boxers and briefs with their names written on the waistbands. Then there was the drunken chicken dance at the main intersection in town and throwing up in the bushes, and then they took me home and all went back out. Ultimate looser! I was the first one down.
My bachelorette party was 2 months ago (Well, the 1st one.) Being the classy bunch that we are, we bought a case of Budlight, a bottle of Captain, and 8 (Yes 8!!!) bottles of Boones Farm. Utterly classy. And of course I was gifted with the much need penis straws and penis shot glass. Nice. That night was amazingly low key.
The 2nd party was a Bachelor/Bachelorette party the Thursday before our wedding which was absolute madness.
I specifically asked for NO STRIPPERS because I was traumatized in college. Our sorority hired our stripper for hell week. HE went by the name Diamond, and was disgusting. There was plenty of t-bagging and other gross sexual games. No thanks. I prefer getting stupid drunk with my friends, sans naked ugly men!
I haven’t been tea-bagged for some time now, thank god.
I’m so scandalised by all of this balls talk that I can’t even type. I just wonder how weird it must be for all of these probably gay male strippers to be dipping their balls on ladeez.
Ewww…just ewww…
Seriously, stripper balls? Naked strippers balls? Dunked in your mouth?
Ewwww
I never had a bachelorette party, nor Frank a bachelor party. Our wedding experience was very understated, hardly planned. We got married in the backyard and had a BBQ for the reception. In the backyard. Good times, man, good times.
i have NOTHING that even compares to that
I never had my own bachelorette party, but I planned a great one for a friend – including a stripper who was hot and I even kindly forbid him to t-bag her. Then we all went bar hopping and I made sure lots of hot young boys kissed her. I am good.
Possibly the best one I went to ended at a gay bar. There were contests run by drag queens going on – best tits, best deep throat, etc. I was too drunk to remember which contest I won.