We just spent a bachelor/bachelorette weekend in Block Island, celebrating the impending union of two of our most attractive heterosexual friends. We played croquet on the lawn, we biked through the fields, and we walked on the beach. We cooked together, we ate on cushioned chairs out in the sun, and everybody wore shabby pastel. At night we made pitchers of gin and tonics, played games and even put together a puzzle. Everyone got up early to take advantage of the day, and even cleaning was made easy by the help of many hands.
In short, it was disgusting.
We never got to wear boxcut bathing suits that were just a little too small. We never got to put on sleeveless shirts to show off our guns. Nobody spent an hour on their beach hair. In fact, people got a little sunburned, and nobody judged them! We didn’t get to go to expensive and sweaty clubs until three in the morning. Nobody fucked any twinks in our shower. We never saw a used condom – anywhere. We didn’t drink cheap mixed drinks out of plastic cups at anybody’s nasty pool. Nobody offered us any party drugs, and nobody puked from drinking too much. We didn’t have to share a single bed with someone because our share house had too many guests. And not even one of us went home with a stranger!
Can you IMAGINE? Revolting. We can’t wait for Fire Island.