Childhood friend decided to get married, and thus it fell to us groomsmen to throw a bachelor party.
Long story short it escalated rather quickly.
Having just come home from my bike trip to Prague I was still quite worn out, being deprived of sleep, food, water, showers, sense of dignity and self-esteem.
Good thing our plan was simple:
To abduct our soon-to-be lawfully wedded friend, blindfold him, shame him repeatedly throughout the many hours of journey to the mountains of Norway.
We would take him to Trolltunga.
And there would be shame.
Trip there was pretty low-key, made him walk into a store, ask for advice with a straight face and buy his own dress. Alone.
Dressed in indignity yet in a way that somehow complimented his child-bearing hips, we realized that he looked like a knight’s squire. So we made him walk into a leather shop and ask for a coin-pouch. The only problem lies in the fact that the Swedish word for pouch (Pung) is also the common word for a man’s testicles. Very cringy.
The actual hike was pretty incredible, only matched by the incredible pain radiating from my buttcheeks.
We climbed the mountainside using an old abandoned railway, which was very steep.
The old wood would creak ominously under your feet, the wind was fierce and we had to derail from the main path several times.
10/10 would risk my life again.
The landscape was gorgeous, Trolltunga was surreal and my migraine symptoms on point.
Turns out you can’t treat your body awfully for extended periods of time.
Who would have thought?
Nevertheless, it was incredible. Trolltunga looked so fake even when standing next to it. It certainly didn’t feel fake when I stood on it however, I was sweating like an awareness commercial for child obesity. Here is a picture of me and my friend Joel, expressing our opinions regarding heights.
I won’t go into detail regarding all the things we did, as it would take too long, yet the list includes (but is not limited to):
Trying to ride a cow
Play golf with a smoked salmon
Skinny-dip in lakes consisting of barely melted ice
Eat fermented herring
Dress up as a wolf, invent a war-dance for the entire pack to imitate to the sound of beating drums
Run up on Trolltunga in their birthday suits, screaming and howling as wolves
I have pictures of everything, including the last one. I will not put it up however, as I doubt that the Internet needs more pictures of penises.
But boy the older ladies watching the entire thing go down were happy. I’ve never seen anyone so excited in my life.
After all efforts, it was a success. Mostly because the star of the show laughed away the shamings at his own expense. I’m honestly very impressed.
Seeing that brutal bachelor party certainly didn’t make me yearn for a party of my own.
There was some straight up police brutality at times #SamuelsLifeMatters