rivettingKateTaylor

It’s nice to laugh on a Monday morning, well, Monday afternoon (I’ve actually been working today – albeit a MAF fact sheet on deferred grazing…) so I thought I would share this story from the stuff website.

A Dunedin man could be in hot water with his fiancee after he ended his stag night in police custody for allegedly smashing a shop window with a ball and chain. The 32-year-old allegedly swung the “seriously heavy” ball and chain at a shop window about 2am on Saturday, after friends attached it to his leg during celebrations, the Otago Daily Times reported. He would appear in court on Thursday facing one charge of wilful damage, just days before his wedding next weekend, Senior Sergeant Mel Aitken said. “I think he’s feeling worried because his wife-to-be took the phone call (from police),” she said.

Not that I have been to a stag party before, but here I was thinking they were a lot tamer than they used to be!  It’s ok, you’re safe, I won’t discuss my own hens night (mainly because I can’t remember most of it).  The best hens do I have been on was a trip out to the gannets at Cape Kidnappers on the tractor trailers (try drinking wine on one of those). But that’s another story.

Stories used to run rife (or was it just in the movies) about grooms turning up with full leg casts (fake ones) or waking up on a train to the other side of the country two hours before they’re supposed to be  at the altar.

I have vague memories of a few with rural twists including dousing the groom in pink gorse dye (try washing that from behind your ears and up your nose just days before the wedding, not to mention more private parts that won’t be seen in the photos.)

Another had super glue applied to  a tender place. Let’s not go there. Removal was probably rather painful. Not a job for the chief bridesmaid 🙂

As the closest neighbour (and formerly a nurse) Mum was roped in to administer assistance to one guy on the night of his stag do in a local woolshed (back in the 80s, we were so classy) after he got covered in tar and they had to put holes for his nose etc so he didn’t croak it (or am I letting my childhood memories go a little too far – Mum, explain please if you wish…)

Any how, if you have read any of my previous blogs about procrastination (please feel free to use the little search engine there!) you will understand me when I say I have to go and find something to do inside to save me from doing any more work.