Nope, definitely no strippers.
June 19th, 2005 | by Scott Jennings |Every weekend, I tell myself, “this is the weekend I unwind and do as little as possible.” Every weekend, I seem to be terribly wrong.
Jeff called me on Saturday afternoon, said he was about an hour away from my place on his way to his friend Jarrod’s (sic) bachelor party in Charlotte. Do I want to go? Yes I do.
I’m starting to think the crazy-ass bachelor parties only happen on early-90’s sitcoms — this one was just about as sedate as every other one I’ve been to. That’s fine, I guess. (Everyone but Katy: I’m just kidding, we went to a strip club and it was great.) (Katy: I’m just kidding, there was no strip club.) (Everyone else: No, seriously, wild and crazy debauchery, on account of the strippers.) (Katy: No, seriously, the groom is Johnny Church, nothing of note happened.) (Everyone else: Nothing of note, except for the strip club excursion.) (Katy: Ha ha! What a hilarious joke this is!) (Everyone else: Surreptitious wink!)
But the trip was worth it if only to listen to Jeff talk about the following things over and over:
- Apple-flavored gum, and how awesome it is
- Sugar gliders, and how they’re like little marsupials that you keep in a cage and carry around in a pouch thing, and how they’re way better than dogs or cats
- Splenda
- I’m not drunk yet. I can’t believe I’m not drunk yet!
- Oh God, I’m so drunk.
Twenty-four hours might be the perfect amount of time to spend with Jeff.
