Limos. Titties. Shots. Titties. Hookers. Titty shots. Las Vegas. Las More Titties. Aaaaaooooo! At one point or another, all of us will either plan, participate in, or be the feted guest of honor of a bachelor party—that most generically alpha-male endeavor this side of bench-press spotting. Surely there's a way to show our soon-to-be-wedded friends a good time that doesn't require Jaeger shooters and STDs? In Denmark, the bachelor party doesn't generally center around strippers—it involves breakfast. Even in the U.K., it seems to include Ryanair flights and some variation of puking in Eastern Europe. Innovative, no? Maybe neither of these sound more appealing than having a stripper named Brandi sandwich your best friend's head in $12,000 worth of spray-tanned double-Ds. But that's not the point. The point is, we can do better. According to TheGroomGuide.com, more men are opting for what they call "bride-friendly alternatives" (which loosely translates to "anything you don't have to lie about the next day"). These ideas include, but are not limited to, organizing a (hooker-free) camping trip, paint- (not hooker-) balling, and planning a trip to a (non-hooker-themed) amusement park. Some guys are even opting for "stag-and-doe" parties that include the bride in the action. Stop laughing for one moment and consider this: If your future wife can't be fun for one night, then you and all your friends are in serious trouble.
Of course, you're not the only one laughing—we're laughing as we type this. And that's the problem. Even the chaste little Jonas Brothers weren't about to let their boy Kevin get hitched without one last night of questionable behavior. "Kevin keeps trying to plan his own bachelor party," Joe told CTV's etalk this month. "Me and Nick are like, 'We are not going to let that happen.' He wants to do golfing but that just seems a little too normal. We have to do something outrageous and fun. Something crazy."
Stay strong, young Kevin! The day Brandi makes a Jonas sandwich out of you is the day the American bachelor loses all hope of wading out of this quagmire. Hell, let's all do our part to elevate this sad state of affairs and not be ashamed to stand up to our lap-dance-loving brethren and say it: Throwing the bachelor party with strippers in Vegas is about as cool as sending your valentine a heart-shaped box full of Russell Stover chocolates. Which is to say, even lamer than golfing.