bachelor party...

With the Swarvey/Jenn wedding imminent, a bachelor party had to be thrown. As I was married once before, I'm not sure I am entitled to a bachelor party, I think the most I should have gotten was a please-don't-screw-this-one-up party, but I was very grateful my friends took the time and effort.
The day started out with some outdoor paint-ball. I had paint balled before, but only indoors. I have to say I prefer outdoors as you tend to not be quite as close to the person shooting at you as you are forced to be indoors. So, the sport tends to hurt less. This is a positive.
The other side of the equation was that, as we were outdoors, we were open to the atmosphere and the sun. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about the work we did to the outside of the building where I live. I wrote that the air that day was warm and humid and that it felt like we were working within a nice, right out of the oven brownie.
Well the air from that day called us on Saturday morning and said that it would not be able to join us for paint ball because it was too hot out.
We are old, too. Not old to the point of pathetic yet, as most of us are in reasonable shape, but some of us are looking at 50 around the corner! Yeesus. I'm concerned with the onset of 40. I gotta stop hanging with geezers.
We did okay. The reality was that there were so many people in the games we were playing, it would be impossible to tell if someone was honestly sucking the big suck, but I don't think any of us were. I wanted to be honest with myself and I killed more people than killed me.
My crowning achievement was being able to sneak up on a kid behind an embankment and have the ref tell him he should surrender because he didn't notice I was on top of him. Ha, ha. Stupid kid.
I should have shot him right in the neck. I missed an opportunity there.
Later, I shot a little girl in the neck so I felt better.
Speaking of little girls, or, well, girls anyway... kinda. This largish girl who was bussed to the paint ball fields directly from the set of Jerry Springer's show My Big Fat Daughter Is Out Of Control, got in trouble. There are rules on the paint ball fields. One of the rules is, you need to keep your face mask on in the area where there might be paint balls flying. This means you end up with your face mask on for a while after you are done playing your game in your specific area. This means a walk in the heat after running in the heat in your heated face mask.
This chick decided she didn't want to wear her hot face mask anymore and took it off well before the area she should have. When the referee or coach or whatever the paint ball guy is called, asked her to please put her mask back on, she responded, "F**K off! Don't tell me what to do! Who the F**K are you? You suck your mother you F**K! I'll kill you and your whole F**KING family!"
Or something to that effect. They went back and forth a little until the paint ball guy almost called 911. Now, 911 might not be the exact right number to call when a fat girl is yelling at you, but he was pretty worked up.
Later, Steve overheard in the parking lot the girl's mother telling her she was right and the paint ball guy was a F**King C*** A** M***********, so we knew she would get the appropriate guidance and that the rest of her life would go along okay.
Apparently, the place had once been called Paint Ball Heaven, but then a kid fell on a gun and it went off inside him or something and he died. Now it's called P&L Paintball and they are very serious about safety rules. I think the name change was a good idea. P&L probably stands for Payment and Liabilities.
Later there were burgers and I got to kick most everyone's ass at Tekken. They may have been letting me win as it was my bachelor party, but I care not even a little.
Seriously, I have mad skills at the Tekken. Unless I play online on the PS3. Apparently, the people playing online on the PS3 are taking it WAY serious. I get my ass handed to me a lot. I like to think it's because I have a life and not so much time to devote to online PS3 Tekken, but look what I'm doing right now.
We then went out for a lovely dinner and I ate some charred animal flesh.
It was decided we needed to get some Goldshlager, and they didn't have any at the resteraunt, so we went on kind of a bar crawl. Ooh. I love a bar crawl.
I was happy because the bars we went into had karaoke, which I enjoy. Steve sang White Wedding, which was apropos. Cindy sang Baby Got Back, which, since we were in Providence, was also.
I almost blew my voice out singing Asshole by Dennis Leary. This is not an easy song to sing as it involves screaming a lot and saying a bunch of Dennis Leary words really fast.
Here it is:
Asshole
You try karaoke-ing THAT!

We were the fun people there. Everyone else who was singing in this bar, with a few exceptions, seemed to be very few steps away from suicide. Especially Norm. Norm, as Steve pointed out, was bummed out about touring, missed his dead father who he used to dance with(I swear this is what one song was about) and was in the midst of a bad breakup. He was one of the guys who takes the karaoke too seriously. Like, if he could channel the seriousness he put into karaoke into online PS3 Tekken, he would kill everyone all the time.
Unless, that is, he was only able to channel his seriousness AND his talent at the same time. Because, even though he held the microphone like he was headlining on the Vegas strip, and stood with one hand half way in a tight black jeans pocket, and used a lot of inflections, he was sadly awful.
Everyone once in a while he'd hit a couple of notes that went together nicely and it wasn't that he was tone-deaf or anything, it was just that his voice was not pleasant to the listening person and he clearly felt that it was AWESOMELY so.
When he sang "Turn the Page" he sang it like both Seger AND James Hetfield at the same time, so he ended up sounding more like Fat Albert than anything else.
There were a lot of sad songs sung. It really bums me out to think of people who's lives are in a place where they probably look forward to Saturday nights to go alone to a bar and sing sad song karaoke.
Gah. It was time to go.
We went to my favorite alternative club (alternative music, not lifestyle, although it has an aspect of that to it) Club Hell. There was hip-hop music coming out of the doors. What the hell??
The club was rented out to a sorority party. Bad taste/timing.
We went to another bar where there was more karaoke. I did Summerwind. If you listened to Asshole, you might understand why my voice was a bit blown out, as it still is. I'm just not used to singing/screaming like that.
My friends paid a randomish chick who they say me looking at to come over and give me a hug and a kiss. She had a killer, stupid-hot body. Later, we were talking about her and her face was refered to as her "grill". This is never good. Facially, she looked like Angelica Houston, right now, but one who has led a much rougher life.
She had a big tattoo up the side of her body and giant gazooms, so I could have over looked her "grill" if I were in other circumstances.
Apparently there was more payment made to have her give me a lapdance, but I didn't know this and suggested we bail on the establishment before it could transpire.
Oh well.
The evening ended at the Cadillac Lounge gentleman's club. Why the car maker Cadillac has not contacted this place and asked them to please stop using their name is beyond me. There were no Cadillacs in this place. It maybe, MAYBE, could have been called the Hyundai Lounge, but even that would have been a stretch as Hyundai is a fine car maker now. Also, there didn't seem to be a lot of gentlemen, either.
Just, just not good. Nothing good in there at all.
I thought, I really did think, that you had to be in SOME kind of shape to be a stripper. I guess, as there are so many clubs like that in the Rhode Island area now, that talent is at a premium. There can only be so much.
There were a couple of okay looking women. One of whom had really nice gazooms on display. She berated my friend Lee out of two dollars. Like, she yelled at him until he gave her money. I haven't been to a club like this in a long time. I didn't know this was now a tactic.
Mark paid for a lapdance with this blonde chick with a big tattoo, so I got some tattoo'ed lapdance action after all. While it was going on, all I could think of was how silly it was. Goddamn maturity. I appreciated it anyway.

In all, it was one of the best days I had ever had. I had a great time from beginning to end.
My friends are okay.