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April 16, 2008 Looks like I'm getting married! I survived the bachelor party, and that means my wedding date (May 17th) is just around the corner. So here now is a recounting (to the best of my ability) of those wicked drunken events that took place on April 12th. My bachelor party was amazing. One of the best nights out I've had in a long, long time (Johnny, that's a redundancy). So before we get started I just want to thank everyone who took part in this special evening, from the guys who organized it, to all the pretty girls that signed the cape, to those who donated a dollar to do so, and the wonderful people who made the booze. Here we go.      It all started with a little phrase uttered by yours truly: "I want booze, strippers, and karaoke." My best man, Johnny San (hey that rhymes!), then put together a gathering at one of my favorite pubs, The Kingston Brewing Company. In attendance were many of my closest friends, including Josh, Scott, Chris, Steve, Dustin, Sean, Jon, Mike, Will, my cousin Donnie, and my soon-to-be father-in-law. They dressed me up in a pink cape and a white lampshade and boy was I handsome... in that pretty kind of way. Bring on the booze! My original plan was to strictly drink beer. But I knew after a few beer I would be easily swayed to partake in other alcoholic adventures. My first shot of the night was Goldschlager, and it came from my fiance's daddy. It was probably his way of welcoming me into the family. I then proceeded to tell him how much I do not enjoy throwing up. After getting signatures on my cape from those involved in my debauchery, we left that pub for another place by the name of The Iron Duke. From the moment I stepped into the door all eyes were on me and my lampshade. An incredibly cute redhead ran up to me before I even got a beer in my hand and asked if she could have her picture taken with me. Since I try to never disappoint my fans, I gladly obliged. Then came some more shots. Somehwere in the mix was Prairie Fire, Polar Bear, Jagermeister, and another awful Goldschlager. Scott and Johnny continued to parade me around The Duke getting beautiful women and funny men to sign my cape and lampshade. A cougar even doodled a pair of boobs on my head. Next we were off to Mybar, though Dustin would've liked to have stuck around The Duke and seen the rest of the Dallas Stars playoff game. Mybar provided more cheap beer, and another plethora of shots. I did a quick Liquid Cocaine, then a vodka shot, another F-ing Goldschlager, followed by two Sicilian Kisses from Jamie. While at Mybar I bumped into Jon and Mike, who I've known since the early days of the Ryan Fan Club. We chatted about comedy music and how there needs to be more of it. At this point I was really fuckin' drunk, but somehow I was remembering everything that was happening. It suddenly became time to go see strippers.      On the way down to The Plaza we had a few sing-a-longs. Chris and I did renditions of our favorite drunken tunes, Lean On Me and Purple Rain. It's sort of a tradition for us. Then everyone joined in for a large choral version of Rocky IV. I instantly had a flashback to earlier in the night when Orlicky told me he fucked a one-armed chick while listening to the Rocky theme. I felt all special inside. Josh then interrupted my smiling with his usual brand of butt-punching. I wish that would've been what contributed to my sore butt in the morning. We hit the strip club and I don't even remember talking to the guy at the front door. I sat down, grabbed a beer, then darted for perverts row as soon as an opening came up. The strippers paid extra special attention to me. Maybe it was the lamp shade that gave it away. Either way, I ended up on stage a few times and only one time was it not in any kind of attractive way. Adam gave me $5 to go on stage with one ugly stripper, and I swear she was a man. Or a bear. I dunno. At one point a stripper started wearing my lampshade and she proceeded to whip my butt with Josh's metal-studded belt. The first two whacks didn't hurt so much. The next couple really stung. I guess between his belt and the butt-punching, Josh had given me one really sore ass.      Two in the morning came around and it was time to leave the strippers and find some food. We hit up Pizza Pizza but all we found there were stupid hot chicks. Literally, they were both hot and stupid at the same time. But that's what made them so awesome. I don't like Pizza Pizza's pizza (say that three times fast!), so I said no way and asked to go to Denny's. Nobody was interested in Denny's, and then Johnny offered to make some wings at his place. When we got there, I ate the wings, then went to sleep in Johnny's walk-in closet (named "The Secret Room") around four AM. I woke up around 8:30 and laid in that little room for four hours, holding back every urge to puke. It was rough, and in the end I didn't toss a single cookie. Then the leftover boys huddled around the television for a viewing of Rocky II. Seeing as how it's the only bachelor party I've ever had, it was also the best by default. Aside from all the beer, shots, cute girls signing my cape, and hot naked women spanking me, it was really nice to just have all my friends together at once. I couldn't imagine a better night, even if there was karaoke involved. Thanks to everyone who boozed me, butt-punched me, drove me, cooked for me, bought me shots, wrote on my cape, offered to let me touch their boobs, put their boobs in my face for $5, asked "Is that a lampshade???", donated a dollar, or simply worked/partied that night in the bars. It's a night that given the amount of alcohol I intook I will surprizingly never forget. |
