The Wet Spot: Rules for surviving a bachelorette party

Categories: The Wet Spot
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Sometimes my timing is so good that it scares me.

Last week, I dropped some serious erotic knowledge on you about how to survive a bachelor party (hint: it involves John Ritter). Then on Friday afternoon I got a call from one of my female friends, telling me that she was headed out to a bachelorette party the next night.

Jackpot.

I immediately hatched plan to dress up as a woman and infiltrate the party (like a reverse version of Joyce Hyser in Just One of the Guys), in order to learn the secrets of a successful bachelorette blowout. Unfortunately, I totally forgot about the plan until later that night. Still, I met up with the ladies at the bar in order to ask a few questions and witness the spectacle for myself. The results were amazing.

I know that I don't always pay enough attention to my female Wet Spot readers, as most of my advice tends to swing more towards the needs of men. That's why this week, I'm going to swing the other way for a change.

Wait, something about that sounded weird. Whatever.

Rule #1: Don't bring your cell phone

In case no one ever told you this, allow me to drop some life-knowledge on you:

Alcohol + Cell phones = Disaster.

Seriously; when was the last time you woke up after a night of drinking, realized that your phone was dead from being on all night and said, "Wow, I'm really excited to find out who I called last night and what we talked about"? Exactly.

Yet, for some reason there is always one chick at the bachelorette party who does a few shots and decides that this is a great time to call and argue with her boo/boyfriend/baby daddy/etc.

This will eventually lead to tears, and ultimately to a drunken mess sitting on the curb outside of Sneaky Pete's screaming that everyone hates her, eating pizza (even if there isn't a pizza place nearby, trust me, she'll end up finding pizza) and guaranteeing that she will never be invited to party with the girls ever again.

Rule #2: Invite along "The Sloppy Friend"

Don't even act like you don't know what I'm talking about. And if you really don't know what I'm talking about, guess what? It's you.

The Sloppy Friend is someone who drinks her weight in tequila, uses the word "cunt" more than most guys and ends up throwing Van Damme-style high-kicks all night on the dance floor.

Every bachelorette party needs to have at least one horrific (awesome) story, and it's the Sloppy Friend's duty to ensure that it happens. Some examples include:

- Putting a dude's entire foot in her mouth in the middle of the bar because he said that he would "suck for a buck" if she would first.
- Pushing another chick off the toilet in the bathroom and then screaming at her until she apologizes.
- Seducing a 13-year-old boy trapped in a grown man's body, sleeping with him and falling in love while watching him play "Heart and Soul" on a giant oversized piano with Robert Loggia.

Not inviting the Sloppy Friend will definitely take your party down from Elizabeth Shue status (pure hotness) to Danica McKellar (total downer).

Rule #3: NO CAMERAS

This is an unspoken rule amongst guys at a bachelor party. At a bachelor party, pictures equal divorce, jail time or possible death. Yet for some reason women think that it's totally cool to take a bunch of pictures of all their friends drunk out of their minds and licking each other's faces.

It is not.

Not because you're going to necessarily to do anything that regrettable, but because you will instantly kill any ammunition you may have had in future arguments with your boyfriend. For example:

You: "I can't believe I caught you flirting with the chick working at Subway! I would never disrespect you that way!"
Your Man: "Whatever! You're the one that has Facebook pictures of yourself pretending to 69 with that gross skinny guy at Bar Abilene!"
You: "He said he was writing an erotic column for City Pages! I guess he was pretty gross."

(Author's note: Whatever Megan, you're not that hot either. Call me.)

Ladies, don't say I never did anything for you. This weekend when you're out at Maynard's celebrating your impending marriage, doing blowjob shots ("Oh my God! Is that really what it's called? I can't believe I'm doing a shot with no hands! I'm like Samantha from Sex in the City but crazier!") and wearing around a stupid looking veil, just remember these three rules and remember - I'm always watching. 



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