Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Reader's Choice #7

Cock Shaped Zogabongs

For John, who doesn't blog any more, but wrote this and made me cry into my cornflakes. Damn him.

Over glasses of wine in Toast, we compare non vital statistics. Seven this year! one announces, and five hens. The SWF seems a little put out that she's had two hens and no weddings. I am appalled. I've been to two weddings... ever (chronicled here for your convenience - #1 and #2 - and I make the same awful "without a hitch" pun in both posts). I have never been to a hen. I am, I think, the champions.

Hen parties are great fun, I'm told. A bit tacky, sure, but after a few drinks you get into it. There are all kinds of things I get "into" after a few drinks; I would be well advised not to add hen parties to the already embarrassing list. I'm not sure just what it is I find so abhorrent about the idea. The costumes? I am no fashionista but I am allergic to Claire's Accessories; they bring me out in a rash. Cock-shaped zogabongs flatter no-one, least of all those with a head of curly hair that looks for all the world like a crown of badly trimmed pubes. A look I happen to be totally rocking at the moment. "Humorous" matching t-shirts are no better - distended photos of the bride-to-be stretched across her best mates' diddies don't flatter anyone either, and there's always one lumpy bumpy budgie who does not look glowing in lycra. Me.

I lie, though. I was once at a hen, of sorts. A quiet dinner affair with my mother, sister, aunts and I playing the part of the the in-laws. In an effort to imbue the occasion with a little zany bachelorette fun, the bride-to-be's sister had had some table mats printed with photos of the hen as a chick. But oh my. This leggy, beautiful blonde had not always been the belle, it seemed. She was once quite the proverbial duckling. My sister and I exchanged horrified sideways glances, a silent and secret pact never to betray one another's egos so. The bride-to-be thought the photos were hilarious. I admired her strength of character and sense of humour. And died a little inside.

As for the nuptials themselves, the "afters" of a wedding, I am assured, don't count. It's just as well. I was invited to an afters once, in a castle. I turned up midway through the speeches, awkward and inappropriately dressed. I had been invited as the bride's cousin's date (having previously dated another of her cousins) and so the groom introduced me to his family as Jezebel the Harlot. Not big on the Old Testament, they amiably called me Jess for the night. I, of course, lived up to my moniker and ended up crashing in the priest's room with the cameraman. One hates to disappoint.

And yet my reasons for hating hen parties are nothing if not disappointing. As with most of the things in life I profess to dislike, my disdain for hen parties is borne of nothing more than unattractive insecurity. I worry that I lack the requisite oestrogen to pull a hen night of my own out of the bag. I worry that I don't have enough female friends. Then I realise that I do, and begin to worry that they're all prettier than me. Which is nonsense, because as you all know, I'm a total fucking ride. I must be, if the company I keep is anything to go by.

In fact, I'm amazed that someone hasn't tried to marry me already.

I have warned my mother that should I ever dupe some dope into tying my knot, it will be done on the sly. There will be no pomp or circumstance, no photographer or cake. She pronounced herself disappointed, unconvincingly so. She knows I'm full of shit. I bluff and bluster about caring not a jot for marriage, but my raging insecurity will no doubt some day be won over by the idea of a sworn statement.

And I may relent on the cake bit.

18 comments:

Holemaster said...

No Cake? forget it.

Annie A said...

I hate hen parties, too. I went to one once at "TGI Fridays". Nightmare. And they didn't even make me dress up.

It's stupid to have a "girls only" night anyway, it dates back to the day when girls only had friends that were girls. If there even was such a day. When I get married I will have a send-off with all my closest friends, male and female.

WHEN I get married. WHEN!

Anyway, I miss you. <3

Radge said...

Is it wrong that the smiley on the end of that last comment made me a little bit....

....

....never mind.

backpedalbrakes said...

I don't think I'd manage a hen party proper either. The best one I've been to was one the bride refused to call a hen. No phallic props, no ridiculous disco bars, no embarrassing photos. It was lovely. Tottering in front of cars across main street, Naas, in flashing bunny ears was not.

Conan Drumm said...

So, when's the big day? :)

Rua said...

"ended up crashing in the priest's room with the cameraman"

You are the female version of everything I once was *sob*

(meekly) Respect.

Rosie said...

it would have to be this cake.

i miss you too, a chroí. and if we're still spinsters at 40, let's marry one another.

very wrong, Radge. it's a loveheart. because Annie loves me.

Naas! the glamour!

Tuesday, Conan.

there's time for you yet, Rua. i'm only hitting my stride.

Spudley said...

I heard of a hen recently in Clonakilty where the bridesmaid was friendly with the local Gards. The bridesmaid convinced a waiter to complain that the unwitting bride hadn't paid the bill, and initiated an argument, after which the waiter called the Gards. Without question the Gards, who'd obviously been previously tipped off by said devious bitch of bridemaid, carted the hen off in the paddywagon for an hour or so, only to deposit her back at the pub where the party was in full swing!!! Brilliant idea, but the bridesmaid must be one seriously untrustworthy excuse for a friend...

Holemaster said...

Tame, compared to the jacuzzi shit incident, followed by naked knocking on every door at a wedding in Italy this year.

Annie A said...

I like to justify leaving emoticons on other people's blogs by writing really, really carefully on my own blog.

Just like I like to justify reading Heat magazine by reminding myself that I once read Shakespeare for something other than school.

Radge said...

My bad, just that it's far too long since I've had a smiley. Eight weeks, in fact.

Ian said...

I've never been to a stag thank christ. Which probably says something about the inability of my male aquantences to hold down a relationship with a lady long enough to con her into going in for the long haul.

And I loath weddings. So much so in fact that the last one I was invited to, my cousin's, and of all my relations I probably get on with her the best, I crashed and wrote off the car I was driving down in. Cue a trip to the hospital and my missing of the nuptuals, dinner, afters, the whole affair. Though from hearing what happened there it seems the only thing missing was Rodney Dangerfield to kick off the dancing by loudly exclaiming "Hey everybody, we're all getting laid."

Now I didn't set out to skip the wedding through rear-ending some poles. But on a sub-concious level, it's hard to know.

conortje said...

The one I was on was really lovely I promise :-)

Now, could I interest you in a compilation CD at all???

Sarah Gostrangely said...

I would LOVE to go to a hen party. All that oestrogen flying about, chasing men in skirts and what have you.

The fact I'm not the marrying kind shouldn't stand in the way.

Get married Rosie, give me a day with a hat and a bucket of booze.

Rosie said...

with friends like that, Spudley...

you sound like an absolute delight, Holemaster.

Radge, you're the third man in as many days to allude to fantasies involving me and Ms. Atkins. Anniekins, we could totally work this.

i get that crash-the-car inclination a lot. i pretend not to though, because my da's new car is ridey and i like being allowed to drive it. so don't tell him.

i do, however, flirt just that little bit more with the traffic on days where i have to go to the dentist.

Conor - see overexcited email. because truly, the way to my heart is through carefully chosen songs.

Sarah, i promise that next time you're back in dublin i shall take you out for a bucket of booze, and we shall wear hats.

Holemaster said...

"you sound like an absolute delight, Holemaster"

For that to have been me, I would have to be a total and utter moron and savage which thankfully I am not.

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