Run #465 A Bridge Too Near
Last
Thursday was a night of lessons for our hare Nutless Sac. The
first lesson was one of semantics; just what does “The trail goes
under the bridge” really mean. The second lesson was one of arrows;
they can prevent the pack from going in the wrong direction from the
very start. But these were lessons yet to be learned. Back at the
start the evening’s religious experience was provided by Bitches’
Bitch a lanky lad whose name made him the closest thing to a
virgin bimbo in sight. The Sacred Missal proved more than he
could safely handle for as the parable heated up so did he. By the
end of the service his shorts looked like Pinocchio had taken up
residence and Scarlett O’Hairy and Just Julie were
busy betting on just how long his “nose” was going to grow. Dick
Chick was looking at him like the wolf looked at Little Red
Riding Hood and she wasn’t thinking “My what big eyes you have”
but her mind was on things that looked good enough or at least big
enough to eat. Once the assorted female eyes had been popped back
into their heads it was time to be on-on. Nutless told the
pack that the trail “goes under the bridge” and with a cavalier
wave of his hand turned his attention to Just Carolyn, Beats
Me, and Bigfoot who were planning on walking the trail and
were offering blowjobs for shortcuts to the beer check. As Beats
Me said “Better five seconds on your knees than five minutes on
your feet.” While his attention was focused on more lascivious
matters the pack not putting too fine an interpretation on his
directions crossed under the available bridge and finding trail was
off in hot pursuit of alcohol. Without arrows to give them any idea
of the direction they were going unfortunately they were on the on-in
trail. Our hare upon seeing the error of the pack jumped into his
truck and made a valiant effort to herd the pack onto true trail but
he forgot that trying to pull the pack together is like trying to
herd cats. In the blink of an eye the whole had dissolved into less
than the sum of its parts and a multitude of minipacks was born. Fits
In, Whippet In, Whippet Out, and Tongueless
along with Drill Me, Bite Size, and Cowlick were
one such pack. Cowlick and Shaft appeared out of the
mists of time he to regain his youth and her to assure that he didn’t
regain the wrong parts of it. Following trail backwards into the
Presidio they came upon LCB who moaned and cried complaining
that he didn’t think being the FRB by *unning the trail backwards
would mean he won the hash. Drill Me fainted from
laughter and only the effect of multiple dog breathes and a quick
splash of pee from Tongueless brought her back to her senses.
Next our wanderers crossed paths with a lone Shithead who with
the approach of the Big 50 on his mind was indulging in an early
senior moment and *unning in a direction that totally lacked flour.
By now Comes Slowly was so desperately in need of some
red red wine that she gave up the ghost and headed for the nearest
corkscrew. D’anglin Anglin was sighted at the gate at
the top of the Lyon Street steps and he found, hard to believe, trail
leading to a beer near mark pointing back to the spot from whence
he’d cum. Dick Chick using half mind logic decided
that Nutless knowing the pack was *unning backwards would put
the beer check elsewhere and she and D’anglin were soon off
chasing their respective tails. Wiser and lazier heads predicted that
our hare would appear at this spot and appear he did. Ben Gay
was ready for a drink by this time as he announced that *unning
backward gave him a headache that he felt only a hangover could
justify. Seeing how much of the beer check Shiner’s Bock he downed
Bone Marrow let it be known that she would be the one
with the headache later. While the few drank for the many some headed
on-in with thoughts of real alcohol dancing in their heads. 5150
was spotted hauling ass up Lyon no marks in sight but his nose
twitching to the scent of beer. Back at the start the Sacred
Bucket was filled with Mai-Tais and all the furniture
assembled allowing the bar to be declared open and serving. Dr.
Kimble was soon swaying gently to the inner music of mai-taiworld
and its kinder gentler reality. Thumper no stranger himself
to that inner music found himself swaying in tandem with the good Dr.
Lucky for them that Bag Lady wasn’t around. No sooner did Dickless
Namehole arrive at the Bucket than he was legless as well. The
sight of Dickless lying semi comatose in a pool of his Chinese
lunch was too much of a reminder of her own Mai-Tai follies for
Spanky who without so much as a drink became ill and left. It
was a night for hashers to return from the Beyond; Yukon Jackoff
and Hotflash lost lo these many years in the wasteland of
suburbia suddenly appeared and with a tot, Dylan, in tow.
Happily they’ve not lost their ability to consume beverages and
Dylan is obviously one of the few children to learn to drive
before he was potty trained. Tits 4 Hire was so taken by his
ability as well as his big blue eyes that after a few cups of punch
she was asking Dylan to dinner and apparently took his manly
gurgles as ascent. My, isn’t she in for a surprise when she sobers
up. Just Doesn’t Get It lived up to his name when he told
her he thought they made a handsome couple. His dog Bella may
be small but she certainly acted like she’d be able to make a quick
meal of Bigfoot. Talk about biting off more than you can chew.
With the King in San Diego Enter The Gerbil returned to his
roll of Fool and ably assisted by Bigfoot as backup
fool distributed down-downs. Six Million Won Man
received one for finally leaving the Army behind although the way
he’s been boffing bimbos a war may still be in his future. Just
Jim got a neo-Nazi down-down for having hashed in Buenos Aires; a
few Mai-Tais and Gerbil is veeery creative. Handjob For
Humanity was called for a down-down but she’d already done so
many personal ones that even Muff Snatcher attempting to live
up to his name couldn’t raise her. I R Stupid offered
to give it a try but Phone Sex intervened before his shorts
were halfway down. It was Tongueless’ natal day and he was
properly down-downed for hitting the double nickel or as he likes to
say achieving the speed limit. While all this was happening Open
Wide brought her friend Just Jenny who sadly almost died
from choking so hard when Likes To Lick mentioned that OW
was low maintenance. “Low maintenance, low maintenance” she
managed to gasp “back home most men thought she needed a motor pool
of her own.” An on-on-on of sorts may have taken place at the Fox
and Fiddle but no one can be sure. So endeth the lessons. Cheers.