I don’t know this game. Are there game pieces that can be grasped by labia? Can one hire strippers to, um, move the pieves around a board in creative ways?
Sorry, as much as I try to think outside the box, I’m hinking about the box. 
What, you’ve never gone engagement ring shopping? Hi-Oh!
Well it makes wheresgeorge.com more fun.
Are you in the cast of ‘The Big Bang Theory’?
That was a quality joke.
We have a name for that. We call it “tuesday”.
Sounds like your friends are a bunch of dicks and your wives and SOs are a bunch of bitches. Who goes to a bachelor party and then tells someone elses girlfriend exactly what happened? At a relatively innocuous bachelor party at that. Wooo she picked up dollar bills with her vagina. How edgie.
Well played, that man! 
For my bachelor party we went clay pigeon shooting then went out for a tasty steak dinner washed down with refreshing alcoholic beverages. A good time was had by all, and there were no strippers, porn films, or any of that sort of thing.
Not because I have an objection to strippers or porn (I don’t) but because I don’t like witnesses- especially witnesses who know my wife- to my debauchery.
Yeah, especially if it gives you change back.
My bachelor party consisted of me and three buddies going to an island bar full of toothless old fishermen and shrimpers and having a couple of beers.
Two weeks after I got married, my pal Josh, the best man at my wedding, got hitched. At his bachelor party there was a full bar, a mountain of weed, porno on a big-ass TV, and the nastiest stripper I’ve ever seen. After dancing and stripping, she masturbated with a vibrator on a kitchen table, joined the assembled guys in doing shots and bong hits, and not-so-discreetly offered to the host that she’d blow the ‘groom to be’ for an additional $100.00 (after several more bong hits and shots, the price dropped to $50.00). Actually, she made it pretty clear that she’s blow anybody there if the price was right.
The ‘groom to be’ had no worries about any of his behavior being reported back to the ‘bride to be’; after watching the hootchie-cootchie dance and a minute or two of the vibrator show, he staggered off and fell asleep in the bathtub.
Indicating to me that there were bigger problems between the groom-to-be and the bride-to-be other than the stripper.
This type of “non”-contact with another woman’s private parts would show such a high level of public disrespect to our relationship that it would have been a deal breaker both before and after our marriage. Fortunately, I live(d) in a different time period from many of the posters, so such expectations were fairly normal. My husband’s bachelor party in 1968 involved under aged drinking, a black and white porno movie where the projector broke down repeatedly, and then bar hopping on foot because no one owned a car. There was no bachelorette party–I had a bridal shower involving tacky games, pink cake, kitchen gifts, and a pretty (not naughty) nightie. Moms and aunts and neighbors were there, not just girl friends.
On the night of the bachelor party, two of my girlfriends and I waited until the boys went bar hopping and then we climbed through a window into their apartment and rewound the film so we could see what they’d been watching. We thought it was funny and rather gross. A lot of the time we couldn’t figure out what we were seeing. It didn’t help that we’d put the film in backwards and there was no sound. None of us had ever seen porn before–we’d seen Playboy but nothing else–and this was 1960s playboy–very tame by today’s standards.
Then the scuzzy older guy who had rented the film to the best man showed up to collect the film. We tried to hide in the closet but he kept banging on the door saying he’d seen that the film was running. He was really angry because the $25 only allowed the film to be watched one time. No rewind. So we had to pay him an extra $10 which we’d planned to spend for some pizza. A lot of the $10 was in change, some of which we got from the boy’s couch cushions. You are now returned to 2009.
Another vote for best man already boinking bride. Groom didn’t spot the setup.
Wow, how interesting!
I, too, am having a bridal shower rather then a bachelorette. I’m sober too, so that makes the choice more logical anyhow.
Mom and Grandma will be there, so my maid of honour (who is my sister, thank goodness!) is going to ensure it’s very tasteful.
There was speculation at the time that the best man intentionally spilled the beans. I didn’t know any of the people involved well enough to get the straight dope. My best friend said “Hey, you know Jim and Steve? Well, Steve is throwing a bachelor party for Jim. Wanna go?”
At any rate, it seems like a pretty convoluted plan. As I said before, I don’t remember if the groom-to-be actually took part or was just an observer. Counting on him taking part, in order to accuse him of wrong-doing, is not a good plan, in my opinion.
It’s possible that the best man saw the groom take part in the activities and came up with the plan on the spot, having had designs on the bride.
Man, my bachelor party didn’t even have porn (unless you count Team America, the non-rated version). We just had a LOT of alcohol.
That said, I’m planning a bachelor party for the guy who was the minister at my wedding for this summer, and we’re having strippers, because a few of his friends are strippers and will do it for cheaply. I sincerely hope I don’t have to deliver any beatdowns to anyone who talks out of turn, but fortunately his group of friends isn’t really that way (as far as I know).
He’s a minister with stripper friends who will give him a discount? That seems… odd.
A long time ago the bride-to-be found out that we had a stripper at my friend’s bachelor party, and was very upset about it. Luckily we were able to direct her anger towards us (the groomsmen) and away from the groom. Nothing beyond stripping went on anyway - it was a definite “no touching” event.
Let’s just say A) he’s pretty much a unitarian, and doesn’t see any particular moral hazard with stripping qua stripping, and B) compared to the trouble he’s counseled a few people out of, stripping is a major improvement.
I’ve pretty much been on-record as a potential or actual groomsman that one of my personal jobs is to make sure that I know the bride-to-be’s ground rules and keep stuff within the lines of that. I’m the kind of guy who can pull off “Hey, <woman>, we’re starting to plan <guy’s> bachelor party. You know him by now, gimmie an idea of where the line is on the stuff he’s likely to want.” Three benefits: Bride doesn’t get mad because she knows she’s got an advocate, we can maybe surprise guy with something close to what he wants than what maybe we think he wants (assuming his bride knows), no one has to feel guilty about the bride not knowing anything at all and yet no one has to say anything to her.
I also have a story about a Stripper, a Bachelor Party, and a Wedding that Didn’t Happen. It’s a bit too convoluted to fully explain without backstory, but the outline is not what you expect:
The Bachelor Party was thrown for the bride. The rest of the attendees were male. Nothing even remotely untoward happened, it was a fun night.
The Stripper was not at the bachelor party. That was another night. Both bride and groom were present. The groom got a private dance. I had to physically threaten a local celebrity.
The Wedding that Didn’t Happen was called off the day before, by the groom. And yet, if either of the prior events didn’t happen, they would probably have been married, at least for a year or so. Not longer than that.
The standard NYC bachelor party for my friends usually consists of:
- Steak dinner
- Strip club
- Chill at some bar
Really nothing too crazy.
Probably one of the craziest party I was at was a three day destination bachelor party in Vegas for one of my coworkers.
A bit more crazy (and yet…more lame) one was for my fraternity brother. The best man sends out the invite and it’s some address located across the street from my appartment. There isn’t a bar or anything there so I’m a bit confused. Turns out, one of the groomsman ownes some dinky garage that was there and they had parked a rented party bus in it. I have to work that Sunday so I’m kind of like “um…where exactly is this bus going?” Turns out nowhere because while the original intent was to drive down to the shore, the stripers are like “uh…we have other gigs. How the heck are we supposed to get back?” Anyhow, things in the bus get pretty rauchy (even though it never moves more than a few blocks), eventually the girls leave and we take the bus to the sketchy BYOB strip club by the airport that’s full of chicken wire and what looks like day laborers with coolers full of beer.
Anyhow, it was a good thing my GF was in Vegas with her girlfriends, otherwise she might wondered why there was one of those airport shuttle busses parked outside our building playing dance music.