Owen Leskovar The best bachelor parties are priest bachelor parties

Bachelor and bachelorette parties: always amazing. They signify the transition between partying and engaging in tons of casual sex, and the quiet happiness of a married life. They're supposed to exemplify all of the good qualities of what you're leaving behind, like a funeral wake for the long, awkward courtship phase of your life. With strippers.

Guys will hire a stripper and chug beers with their friends, grunting the night away for last time without legally-binding accountability. Girls will bake cakes shaped like phalluses (phalli?), dress like sluts, and wear tiaras that signify their impending knot-tying in order to get free drinks from stupid men. This trick will continue working for the rest of their lives (but they may need to switch bars).

If both parties have a good sense of humor, no one gets hurt. I even know a few gay couples who have thrown tandem bachelor parties: doing body shots off of stripper's abs in between teary hugs and heartfelt "I love you"s.

Bachelor parties are an expression of everything you're giving up, and an affirmation that it's worth it. So think about how nuns and priests must feel on the night before they take their holy vows and become eternally married to god.

How the fuck do I get invited to one of those jams!? At a traditional bachelor party, you're giving up promiscuous sex...but you still get to bang your spouse. Priests and nuns need to stay celibate before and after, so I bet they seal that particular contract with a lot more than a few strippers! Blowjobs and scissoring for everyone! They need to live a humble life and avoid gluttony, which means a giant-ass buffet at an opulent hotel. Plus, the opposite of young boys is legal women. Sign me up!

So the next time you go to a sweet bachelor or bachelorette party, think about what it means. Think about how much you love your friend and how exciting and terrifying marriage is going to be for them. Then think about how a priest or a nun must feel. Trust me: I bet they drink enough wine/blood of the savior at those parties to kill an irishman. Now I may not be Irish, but I still want an invite. And I'd bring hookers. I bet they'd love it.

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