The Stripper (with picture)

So, the fellas threw me a bachelor party the other evening, my “man shower” leading up to the wedding. It was a rather tame affair, some football watching and beans and hotdogs and hamburgers and things.

Well, there was the stripper.

You know, I’m really not the stripper type.

But it was my man shower. And that only happens once. A man has got to sow some leftover wild oats, you know?

The stripper was fast and easy and a little dangerous. Just what you’d want.

The only real issue came when I took the stripper home. I mean, really, I wanted pictures, and we needed some privacy. The fiance really didn’t understand at first.


But she eventually did. And was rather amused.