You Were Expecting Something Demure?

I know that I should dedicate this post to the involved description of my bachelorette party weekend in sordid, tequila soaked detail. But I worry that the magnitude, the sheer enormity of the shit show and the ten WONDERFUL people that made it happen, cannot be captured by my amateur scrawl. Also Im pretty sure I could only retell about 1/3 of the weekend with any kind of journalistic integrity. Because I was, and let me know if you are shocked here, TANKED.

A note to the participants: Seriously guys, thank you. I will do everything in my power to make your parties just as raucous when the time comes. And it better come soon because there is only so much time I can spend without a peeny whistle in my mouth.

But in the meantime, I will recount scenes that I either find particularly hilarious, or well lets just be honest, I will share what snippets I remember, or have since been reminded of.

In a very rough idea of what I believe to be chronological order:

-singing deeply and with passion into a rotating dildo affectionately dubbed "the love spoon", the works of the grand duchess of pop, Ms B-Spears herself. Passing said love spoon around the limo so that everyone could get a chance at the limelight.

-being pushed around a winery yard in a child sized tractor while the rest of my party attempts to hit on the prepubescent boy behind the counter. Because we are cougars in training and thats how we roll.

-sitting cross legged on a cement floor petting a dog while poking Deitra in the ass with my wine glass when I wanted a refill. "I dont care, just make it booze!"

-rolling into a ritzy hotel looking like a cheap drunk tranny in a boa, a light up tiara, and a penis whistle in my mouth. Having my entourage look like much of the same, stealing bottles of champagne from our driver.

-wearing Kristy/Kerri/My chonees into the hotel hot tub.

-announcing to the MC and subsequent crowd at AsiaSF that my fiance was a one night stand gone wrong. Then flipping off the audience.

-telling my tranny lap dancer Chloe how freaking good she smelled. After sobriety hit this remains true. I remember her tits smelling better than anything I have ever smelled in my whole life. and I told her so.

-telling our cabby how good I thought Chloe smelled.

-having who I believe to be Biggy Smalls blow into my peeny whistle at the Cellar.

-accidentally spilling some of my tequila on some hapless bystander and telling him I was "doin' it for my homies".

-having my tragically tame sister drop it like it was hot not once, but TWICE on some random guy in a tie. And on anything else that would stand still. Woman is my hero.

-waking up with a half eaten pizza crust in one hand, and a tiara in the other.


And THAT my friends, is how you kiss singlehood goodbye RIGHT.