A photodocumentary or why cameras should not go to bars

A while back, I whined about having to plan a bachelorette party. In the end, it turned out to be a great time, on a Tuesday night no less. I’ve declared this day a complete waste in terms of productivity, so I’ll wisely use my time by posting some of the pictures. We started out at a restaurant where everyone was issued a nametag bearing a stripper name (not by me, I would never think of, much less implement such).
I don’t understand the significance of this game, but it was entertaining nonetheless. My name for the night: “Candy”. Somehow this extended to the men we met in various bars. People who entertained us were given names like “Hercules” and “SCUBA Dan”. Here you can see me labeling our new friend “Rex”.

The other game of the evening was to issue everyone candy necklaces. The first girl to run out of candy without eating it herself is the winner. The Bride had fun soliciting strangers to eat her candy for a while, but things quickly degenerated into this:

Not to be outdone, the boys planned a Bachelor party for Saturday. Sadly our boys could come up with nothing better than to get the groom drunk then bring him to the VFW for karaoke with us.
They couldn’t even manage to follow the self-imposed rule of not calling any wives or girlfriends. I’m thinking this should also have been against the rules, but was told not to complain.
A good time was had by all. Here we all are screaming out our obligatory rendition of “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, or I should say here we are pretending to sing three minutes after “TEOFTH” because despite its being the longest song ever, it wasn’t long enough for Katie’s dad to figure out how to use the camera.
I’m told that the neighbors actually called the police over the noise that was coming out of the VFW. Then this happened…
And this… I’m not going to pretend to understand.