My Girl Likes To Party All The Time, Party All The Time, Party All The Time . . . .

Decadence? Debauchery? Devilishness? D . . . um . . . D . . . er . . . Deeeeeeemolition of one's family values? Destitution (after contacting your credit card company to remove the security block after $2000 in transactions within a one hour span, at 3 a.m., at an establishment that shows up on your receipts as "restaurant/hospitality").

You know what I'm talking about. It's a tradition practiced since the advent of recorded human history. It is said that when the cavemen discovered fire, they illuminated the first bachelor party soon after, and the hunters woke up the next day with a raging hangover, laid out next to a bleeding ox, a long spear and a pair of bikini bottoms on their heads. "Grrrrr, argggggh, ucccch, grrrrr," they muttered, voicing their approval of the new ritual. Soon, the women of the clan joined the festivities, fashioned history's first "condom shirt" and bashfully allowed Ooga-Booga, the tribe's strongest field laborer, to drink fermented berry juice out of the bride-to-be's navel.

Byrnes and I now honor the traditions of our human ancestry and, in the words of Thomas Hayden Church in "Sideways," triumphantly vow "this is our time, we should be cutting loose, we're here to party, man!"

First up, the weekend of August 14 to August 16, I, Hirsch, will return to the city of my almost birth and try to pack 30 years of memories into 72 hours. Rumor has it that Jason "No Beer Too Big" Steiner, Co-Best Man, and I will be staying at the Le Parker Meridien, 116 W. 56th Street in the heart of Midtown Manhattan. Rumor has it that we will rendezvous at our former alcoholic base camp, City Lobster, at approximately 5 p.m. on Friday, August 14. The "Lobster Shack", as it is affectionately (or disrespectfully called depending on the level of service), is located on 49th between 6th and 7th.

For those of you with prior plans over the weekend, I will likely touch down at JFK on Thursday morning and will have a hankering for a NYC meal, NYC drink and NYC carousing on Thursday evening as well. My cell phone number is (917) 941-3838. Give a ring if you would like to break bread a day early!

And that's all I know. Could be a Citifield excursion mixed in on Saturday night or Sunday. Could be a pub crawl. Could be a street fight like the climactic scene at the end of "The Outsiders" (you may call Kevin McCarthy "Pony Boy" if said fight ensues). Could be a . . . MUUUUUUURDAAAAAH!!!!! Who knows - I'm just really looking forward to seeing my old chum again and immersing myself once again in the "city that never sleeps" (as is my left bicep tattoo that similarly doesn't sleep). See you at happy hour, yanks!

Second, Byrnes and her esteemed entourage descend upon Las Vegas and the Palms Resort & Casino Labor Day weekend, September 4 to September 7, with the big shebang going down Saturday evening, September 5. If you have a sinful itch for "Sin City" and want to be a part of this celebration, please contact the Maid of Honor, my soon-to-be sister, Renee Pehanich at renee.712@gmail.com. Trust me - this ain't your mama's bachelorette party! Things could get dicey! The Maloofs have purchased additional insurance for the property if that is any indication.

Third (third you say?), I will attend the bachelor party of James Buchrieser, longtime friend and younger brother of groomsman Detlef "Robby" Buchrieser, hosted at the Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas the weekend of September 11 to September 13. Co-Best Man Jason Steiner will also attend. Other Co-Best Man, Michael "Sack Lunch" Lee, has hinted at a possible jaunt to the desert. For those of you who do not know James, but know me, know Vegas and want to know Vegas again, consider this my bachelor party 1(a). Contact Robby Buchrieser for details at (631) 445-6222.

See you when we see you - and it looks like we will be seeing you a lot. That's good because it has been waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too long.

We thank all of our friends in advance who participate in these events. We love you all. We will love you all when you wake up next to Mike Tyson's Tiger and find a blubbering baby in the hallway closet. We will love you even after the effects of the Rufinol subside.

Now let's do this thing!!!!