The times they are a-changin’.
This post seems to be older than 14 years—a long time on the internet. It might be outdated.
I think every bachelor party should start out with someone walking into a sex shop, only to have their phone ring, “Oh, hi Mom. How’s it going? Can I call you back later?” and then turn around and ask the shopkeeper, deadpan, “Where are the inflatable dolls?
That’s how this one started out, kind of; we were actually getting ready for the party. Ben was on the floor, practically rolling in agony from laughter. I’m not quite sure it was that funny.
In any event, Kelly’s bachelor party was on Saturday. It was a party of epic proportions that started out on Lake Union, moved to The Spaghetti Factory, then Buca Di Beppo’s, and finally back to the boat. The night ended with Kelly ralphing over the side of the boat: the first two times as a result of the Gentlemen Jack’s we were taking swigs of, the next three times due to “Peter’s fucking fettuccine.”
My computer is down, although I have a new one on the way. Unfortunately, photos will have to wait for my new computer to arrive, so check back in 3ish weeks.
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