The Wedding Stinger heads to the hills, part II

Continuing where we left off...
Maybe if they all would have worn pants, the line to the bathroom wouldn't have ended up this long.

A flash-back to the bachelor party.  Yeah, that was so wrong.

Yep, his soul and half of everything he earns.

"Don't take the picture until I put my tit back in," says a drunken Dani.  (My favorite kind.)

See why I don't drink?  Okay, yeah, I'll cross-dress for any chick who even pretends to get off on it.

Hmmmmm.  Interesting, yes.  But it probably won't work with the bouquet.

It was so cold that night after the reception we had to patch his shirt in both places the next day.

Back at the Stabbin' Cabin (i.e., the honeymoon cabin)...

Apparently some people find the sight of cleavage rather boring.

I don't think this one needs a caption, but if you want to write one, be sure to include something about the groom's penis in the punchline.

This was the invention of the stereotypical MySpace photo.

Goodnight, everybody.  Or good morning.  I think it was 4am by the time we cleared out to let the honeymooning begin.

Copyright 2007 Alexplorer.
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