Everyone has a bachelor/ette story to tell. There was the time my sister disappeared from her own party leaving myself and friends in various states of unease as oiled men humped up. Stacy woke the next morning to find baby powder and grease ball sack stains on her Gucci skirt. Or my friend Laura who found a pack of dancers a bit too over zealous as they grabbed guests ankles over their heads and began going to town with their groins. A less stripper based story involves the groom vomiting all over the restaurant dinner table.
By far though, the most disturbing tale comes from my good friend Mike who was witness to Toni's Angels, a NY based “company” that has scarred he and everyone who's heard the story for life. It's way too dirty to detail here, but let's just say it all began with the ladies laying down a tarp. Beer bottles, a homemade song called “Eatin' Pussy” and a groom with an issue with germs followed.