Bachelorette parties, yawn...

Not that we have any business being at bachelorette parties, but don't girls have better ways to party like a rock star before walking down the aisle? From a guys' perspective, most bachelorette parties these days seem really boring. There has to be a better way to spend a weekend with a dozen of your best girlfriends. Here is a pictorial of how an average bachelorette evening flows; humor us and click on this link. Activities include: going to the spa, getting your makeup and nails done, playing board games, wearing cheap tiaras and pink boas, drinking Bellinis out of penis straws, going out to dinner (usually Italian), then bar-hopping from one lame place to the next... You get the idea. Some are bold enough to go to a Chippendale's or Thunder from Down Under show. Later on at the bars, girls huddle in a circle and shout a bunch of nonsense while the bride-to-be dances around with a rubber dildo strapped to her forehead. Brilliant. DJs at bars hate giving shout-outs to lame bachelorettes like this, unless they can get with one of the cute bridesmaids of course. For the fellas trying to get in the mix, cut to the chase and prey on the one having a hard time in her heels - there's always one in each group. You'll find her dragging her feet 10 yards behind the procession. Who came up with the disturbing idea of penis straws anyway? They should be SHOT.

Welcome Alternative: Here is the bottom line; most bachelorettes don't party hard enough. Don't you realize that your fiancée is out getting ass? We went to a bachelor party in Atlantic City last year that was beyond X-rated. In fact, the weekend left us shell-shocked and made us want to go to church for confession on Sunday (and we're atheists)! Incidentally, we've been asked to be Best Man in our friend's wedding next summer and thoroughly look forward to organizing some shenanigans ahead of the wedding. Bridezilla, beware! Just kidding... Seriously though, girls really need to step their game up a notch. We're not saying you have to come back with kidney failure - just party a little harder and get the poison out of your system before the big day. Take a trip over to Amsterdam (Dutch guys are tall), hit up Montreal (see this Girls' Getaway Package), or party it up in Jamaica at Hedonism. Do something really worth bragging about on Facebook! Don't you want to stash away some stories that will make your groom jealous and keep him guessing for months to come?

Footnote: Ever hear of Jack & Jill parties? Times are tough, but they should be outlawed. We'd rather watch white paint dry.

Footnote 2: If you're looking to organize a bachelorette dinner party in NYC, go to Tortilla Flats on West 12th & Washington! Our brother works there, guaranteed fun.

Bottle Service Blows!

You know what really chaps our ass over here at Overrated!? Bottle service at night clubs and the people who drop thousands of dollars to brag about it. Ok, so maybe there was a time when spending 20 times retail for a bottle of Grey Goose was acceptable – back in 2006 when Wall Street seemed unstoppable – but those days are long over, and a little bit of restraint should be substituted for potato-infused profligacy. Don't people realize we're in the midst of The Great Recession?

It’s not just about the bottles; it’s about the nightclubs that perpetrate the whole concept. Clubs are made up of three kinds of people: promoters who are paid to bring in models and other kinds of hot girls. They make the club seem cooler than it really is. Second, random types who wait in line for hours with a glimmer of hope of gaining entry (yes, that group of half a dozen Indian guys who work at Morgan Stanley). These types rarely get in yet we've caught them posting things like "Tenjune rules, just saw Paris show her boob" on Facebook. And finally, rich losers who drop five to six figures on Cristal magnums (true story) with the hopes of scoring one of the bottle girls. We heard from a friend the other day that some moron dropped over $20 grand this summer on tips alone trying to get with one particular bottle girl at Marquee. What a fucking waste! Clubs love the third kind of person we speak of and wouldn’t be in business without them. We find that nightclubs in NYC are often a social scheme designed to suck the dollars out of these impressionable birdbrains. We fail to understand the appeal that nightclubs have with the Bridge & Tunnel crowd; it's not like the music or ambience at these clubs is all that great. Worst of all, most of these clubs are run by organized crime (Albanians, Russians etc). We choose to stay away.

Welcome Alternatives: People can spend their money however they want, but we’d like people to not look like assholes while doing it. Once you’ve blown through your cash at 1 Oak, none of the girls whose drinks you paid for are gonna hang out with you anyway (i.e. get yourself some real friends). And when it comes to those bottle girls you’re trying to impress, the truth is they couldn't be happier if you got hit by an 18-wheeler. For every 20 something with an AMEX Black Card and a house in the Hamptons, there’s some gazillionaire - that 'your girl' is banging - with a private jet and a 100-foot yacht to make your getup look like an erector set. Just as good parents tell their young kids “Don’t do drugs,” we advise you, “Don’t buy bottles.” Trust us on this one, there are cheaper and more fun ways to damage your brain cells.

Footnote: The halfway hooker (aka, bottle girl) is a relic of the past. That whole Tiger Woods – Rachel Uchitel saga isn't helping the cause. Unless you’re Tiger circa 2009, these girls don’t give a shit about you. Compared to Tiger, who most of the girls have already been with, you’re about as cool as a Kraft Single Slice. And in case you haven’t heard, the whole bottle-girl thing didn’t end up too sweet for Tiger. Unless you’ve won 30 Majors, are worth over a billion dollars, have an Escalade that can run over trees while withstanding the force of a Swedish-swung 3 iron, AND have an ironclad prenup, we suggest you don't even try.

Footnote 2: Curious about the photo above? This was taken at a club in London a few years back (when a Pound was worth two bucks). That's right big guy, you're looking at $50 grand worth of champagne and vodka right there. Try putting THAT on your Centurion next time.

(Thanks to SAA for his contributions on this post!)