Dear Jeanine,

I’m getting married in a couple of months and my friends are throwing me a bachelorette party. I don’t want a traditional one with all the penis straws and naked blow-up dolls and stuff. I’m a little shy and the thought of wandering all over town wearing a penis hat has me worried. I’ve told them I don’t want any of that, but I’m worried they’re going to do it anyway. What should I do?


Blushing Bride

To the Future Mrs. CocknBalls,

Just kidding. Sorry. See, I just did exactly what you didn’t want. What a jerk.

But fer serious: I get it. Traipsing all over town covered in dongs isn’t the sort of thing I’d like either, to be fair. And you’re not alone. Four out of the last five bachelorette parties I’ve attended were for brides who had zero interest in the schlong paraphernalia and those ladies specifically told us they didn’t want that stuff. And I hate to say it, but at two of them, penis waterguns, straws, soaps, chocolates, pasta, cookies, necklaces and rings still made an appearance.

Over the years, the bachelorette party — once a ritual to prepare the bride for marriage by filling her hope chest with linens and dishes and teaching a virgin what to expect on her wedding night — has turned into an evening of embarrassing the bride and trying to top the groom’s bachelor party’s bawdiness.

If you don’t want to be making your new husband penis pasta for the first month of your life together, I would tell your friends flat out that you don’t want any penises at your party, and ask your most trusted friend to shut it down if she sees one.

The bachelorette brunch I just attended this weekend was for a friend who feels similarly to you. And after I promised her I would take any penis that showed up at her party and toss it into the street — excepting of course any that belonged to male waitstaff at the restaurant — I asked her how she felt about lighthouses. Then I bought a penis cake pan, made her a flourless chocolate cake and did up the frosting to look like a lighthouse. It didn’t look much like a lighthouse, to be honest — cake decorating isn’t something I get to add to my list of talents —but it didn’t really look like a dick either.

Had I more time, I would have made the entire party lighthouse-themed, and hired a stripper to dress like a fisherman — replete with tear-away yellow slickers, Wellington boots, and a thong that resembled a lighthouse in the front. Hindsight is 20/20, eh?

In any case, I hope your friends listen to you and if they seem like they’re going to keel over if they don’t get to do anything ribald, let ’em make you a lighthouse cake. Or a rocket ship cake. You know: whatever’s vaguely phallic but not actually a schlong. I’m hoping you won’t bat an eye when you see your husband’s dick, or rod, or johnson. If you don’t want to see that one either, you have bigger problems than a bachelorette party getting out of control.

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