How to survive a hideous hen weekend in Blackpool

YOU prayed for a nice meal out or a spa day perhaps, but some twat suggested a nightmarish hen weekend in Blackpool. Here’s how to survive it.

Tell the bride her husband-to-be is a wanker

‘Let slip’ that you are not impressed by the fiance. If you’re lucky the bride will tell you to fuck off and you can get the first train home, slip into your PJs and eat your complimentary chocolate cocks in front of Line of Duty.

Don’t drink

A radical approach but avoids the added misery of a hangover and regrettable incidents. There is nothing more depressing than puking into a hotel bin while wearing a penis-shaped tiara.

Drink like a nutter

On second thoughts, the only thing worse than a hen weekend in Blackpool is a hen weekend in Blackpool while sober. Try to reach that ‘loony’ level of pissed where the skanky male stripper and your ‘Bride’s Bitches’ t-shirt are totally hilarious.

Fake your own death

Hen nights are tricky to get out of. Everyone else has to go so they’ll do everything in their power to take you down with them. The only way to avoid it without pissing anyone off is to fake your own death and start a new life abroad.

Be brutally honest

Say: “Well done for getting married, but the thought of spending hundreds of pounds on a weekend with a bunch of screeching, pissed-up harpies makes my blood run cold.” There’s a good chance your friends won’t hate you forever because they’re thinking exactly the same thing.