Bachelor Party and I don’t mean the Tom Hanks movie

Back from another trip Outside The Perimeter…. This time I’m talking about an exhasuting adventure to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.

This was a bachelor party weekend for one of my friends. The weekend quickly became the “Weekend of No Logic”, as declared by my friend Stacey. Staying out too late, drinking too much, missing tee times, taking a picture of a really cool looking dead bird on the beach (I’d post it here if I knew had to, and didn’t inadvertently set my camera phone to Low Quality pictures), getting to ride in limos when we are not supposed to, watching a television while at an “adult entertainment establishment”, you name it, it happened. The “What Happens On The Road, Stays On The Road” credo stops me from posting details, but start your mind’s engine and you’ll get an idea.

Bachelor parties in general are cluster fucks. Never having the good fortune of finding a woman who will marry me I’ve only experienced them from the “loser” side of the equation, but by-and-large I am not a big fan. I go because the guy getting married is one of my friends, and they are the few times I get to see women nekkid (as they are called in The South). Perhaps I am just bitter….

Paulie [eatl/ga]

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