What’s that? I hear you ask.
It’s a hen enjoying her last single night ever, obviously. Via the age old medium of zorbing (I can’t bring myself to capitalize that, although apparently I can bring myself to spell American) Hmmm, where was I?
Yes, ok! It’s my friend’s hen this weekend and I’m sortof planning it. And now I feel bad because there will be no zorbing. I feel like I’ve let her down, and myself. Ultimately, I feel I’ve let myself down. In fact, it’s less of a feeling more of a deep knowing.
Next time, however, I’ll do so much better! Gremlin, I promise to take you clay pigeon shooting when/if you get married.
I just peed myself a little bit. The excitement promised in this picture proved too much for me and my weak bladder. Henheaven, you owe me one pair of pants.
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