Loyal readers of this blog may recall me mentioning my sister-in-law's upcoming marriage into the "cult." It's not really a cult; just some Evangelical Christian church descended from the Puritans.

Tonight, DILF is attending a bachelor party for the groom-to-be. It's being held at Smoky Bones.

Now, anything with the word "bones" in it might suggest sexy things. But it's just a barbeque joint. DILF called me on his cell phone after dinner. He was taking a smoke break; of course, he was alone. He called because he made a couple of faux pas.

For one, the future groom's father and brothers (which comprised the entire bachelor party besides DILF) had given him gifts. Power tools. DILF had never gone to a bachelor party that required wrapped gifts; usually buying a round of drinks sufficed.

Then, he started to dig into his green beans before they said grace. Oddly enought, he wasn't expecting to say grace at a bachelor party.

Don't get me wrong. DILF has attended bachelor parties that did not involve looking at naked ladies. His own, for instance, he planned to be an all-nighter at his favorite watering hole playing poker and darts; his rationale was he didn't spend time at strip clubs when he was single, but he did enjoy the pub crawl, so that's what he wanted to relive. The fact that one of his friends went against his wishes and hired a stripper... well, that is another story, and really DILF should be the one to tell it.

Also, many men choose to attend a sporting event, or play golf, or even shoot paintball guns at each other instead on engaging in the stereotypical "stag party." But a non-alcohol, prayer-based bachelor party with tasteful gifts? That caught DILF a bit off guard.

This is just a guess on my part, but I think he may be home early.