Run #446 Would You Like Some Anthrax with Your Paranoia?

“But Officer Krupky I’m just trying to do my civic duty. Just trying to avoid arrest or worse having San Francisco’s finest confiscate our alcohol” thus spake our hare of last Thursday, Comes Slowly. “But lady, how many times do I have to tell you we don’t care”, spake Officer Krupky. “We already know who the Gypsies are, scum, riffraff, demented drunkards with less than half a mind, disgusting flour addicts. So just go on being normal, just be stupid. If you don’t use flour use chalk and since its San Francisco maybe you’d be safer choosing a nice pastel” he lisped. Head shaking, a tear *unning down her cheek, our sadder but wiser hare leashed up Sadie and went off to set trail. The pack gathered at Olympia and Clarendon where thoughts turned to the last time the Gypsies met at this spot, the time that Bitch In Heat found out what great drugs the SF Fire Department has at its disposal. An urban legend has been circulating claiming that Bitch has been spotted at various fire stations breaking bits of his body in an effort to get those same drugs. Dickless Namehole swears he saw it on the internet. While some wept silently others like Cream Filled Buns licked there chops at the sight of newboot Tino. Cream Filled and Lois Lame were spotted circling the lad looking like starving wolves who’ve just spotted a wounded moose. Clearly this pair couldn’t wait to pump him full of the Sacred Bucket’s poison of the week and use him to satisfy their twisted desires. Oddly enough Cowlick noticed that Beastie Boy also seemed to have that hungry look….hmmm. Speaking of Just Tino no one would have expected that in a former life he’d been a priest yet how could it have been anything else, the way he handled the Sacred Missal. To the utter joy of Comes Slowly and Sadie (no leg humping this night) our virgin belted out a heterosexual parable that had Bigfoot pawing her crotch and belching with a zest that left Enter The Gerbil in shock. Clearly Semen Monster was thinking about a room but not just for sleeping. Once the estrogen was back in the bottle the pack was off in search of the trail. Flour having achieved a status akin to rabies in the public mind our hare chose to set the trail entirely in chalk, pastel, of course. The pack mentally vague under the best of conditions wandered about aimlessly at the first check sucking its collective thumb and whining for a mommy to set them straight. Fucking Pesto Chicken having used his ears, the only appendages he’s used of late, heard the hare say that she’d used lines of chalk instead of blobs of flour to mark the trail so the pack should be following the proverbial dotted line. Trail wound through the woods behind Laguna Honda Hospital. Those fortunate enough to actually find trail should seek professional help as clearly something is askew. Whippet In and Whippet Out were busy taking Tongueless on a wild ride. Fits In having cleverly removed the batteries from Tongueless’ torch and claiming yet another late work night was just waiting for word that the insurance loving pooches had finally taken care of business. Only Enter The Gerbil’s torch and Drill Me’s threats to lock him in a room with Badger kept the whiner going. Gerbil’s outstanding sense of direction combined with an inability to follow trail led the intrepid band back to the start where their hopes of an early brew were once again shattered by Nutless Sac’s locked truck. Nutless, Bigfoot, Just Carolyn and King Rongjon had made away for a private beer check at the abode of said large foot and Mr. Gerbil. While they pondered weak and weary (thank you Mr. Poe) a taxi arrived and disgorged Fits In who was disconsolate at finding Tongueless still breathing but recovered enough to use her expertise as a safe cracker to open Nutless’ truck. Eventually the rest of the errant flock returned to the pen and the serious drinking was begun. The Sacred Bucket was filled with Port wine cooler and while the King’s Fool dispensed down-downs the King was lost in reverie creating an epic remembrance of Bitch In Heat. Creativity was the watch word of the evening as Dick Chick grabbed a piece of chalk and as if in a trance traced out a Bitch In Heat Memorial. Miraculously Shaggy Dog touched the artwork with his toe and found himself flat on his back. Some wags insist that the fifteen cups of punch he’d consumed were the actual cause but who can say. Dick Chick also provided a feast of cupcakes so laden with sugar that a passing diabetic fell into a coma. The pack was graced by the presence of old time hashers Shaft and Plucky who were last seen slumped over their walkers drooling contentedly. Gerbil was also honored to give a down-down to NAMBLA’s Man of the Year, Manhole who recently slept with 40 nine year olds. Naked Hasher deep in his cups and hearing impaired was awed as he said he’d give his left nut to sleep with a 49 year old, his last meaningful relationship having been with Ma Barker. LCB at this point would be happy to do Ma Barker’s grandma. Chickless Boner and Wankee Doodle were spotted huddled over the Sacred Bucket causing a certain amount of paranoia but it became clear that the Gypsies’ answer to Bnai Brith were simply blessing the potion. King Rongjon reentered the circle and held forth with an ode honoring Bitch In Heat. I R Stupid was reduced to tears although Likes To Lick insists the tears were caused by his inability to reach the Bucket and yet another drink. While the King held court he also anointed Just John. Wielding the Sword Of Power he metamorphosed Just John into Rhett Butthole, newest member of the Order of the Sleepless Knights. McTaco was there for a few meaningful moments with the Bucket. Meat Pie and No Hands were enjoying a peaceful tot when Sammy’s howling brought them on the *un. Imagine their shock finding Just Jason drunkenly trying to have his way with the hairy hound. No Hands says copies of the video will be available next week. Much more alcohol flowed at the Mira Loma Club. Bye Bye Bitch. Cheers.