Run #469 I Feet Pretty, Oh So Pretty!
So
there they were all dressed up with no one to blow (a paraphrase from
Lethal Weapon). Running the gamut from ultrachic to matronly the
Gypsies were incredibly styling for their Little Black Dress
trail. I R Stupid had so many frocks he couldn’t choose
which one to wear. Constantly asking, “Do my thighs look fat?” he
finally decided on the one that made him look least like a candidate
for liposuction. Tongueless was chic in a clingy sequined
number that left him looking like a pregnant dowager empress. And
these were just the hares! Polly visiting from DublinH3 had
spent the afternoon selecting the perfect handbag to go with his
dress and getting what few hairs left on his head coiffed. Half the
women there announced they’d gladly die if they could just have
legs like Enter The Gerbil who finally tired of giving out his
secrets for moisturizing. Once all the coffee klatching was done
heads were bowed and the pack received its benediction from At
Your Cervix, a Whine & Chowder harriette, who found the
Sacred Missal just her cup of tea. Reading with gusto our
visitor left little doubt that she found the Sacred Missal
eerily autobiographical. Ears weren’t the only appendages that
pricked up as the reading gathered momentum. Chickless Boner
was left happy that he was wearing a full skirt. Laid on his back he
could have been mistaken for an umbrella. Trail was clearly laid with
an eye to maximum exposure of the clothes horses *unning it.
Civilians in Chinatown and Northbeach were provided plenty of eye
candy as the likes of Likes To Lick in a zippered faux leather
number strutted their stuff. Passing one of the less upscale titty
bars Rhett Butthole was offered a job, next time he’ll shave
before *unning. Trail eventually led the pack to its first stop at
the Tonga Room. For many Gypsies it was the first time they’d
been in a bar that didn’t have peanut shells on the floor, others
fit right in. Clearly Pet da Cooter was at home as evidenced
by all the men who seemed to know her. Too bad the last one was her
parole officer… c'est la vie. Dr. Kimble was simply stunning
in his black sheath with pearl choker and feathered hat, so stunning
in fact that a clearly jealous Bag Lady had to keep sending
the drinks that kept arriving for him back to sender. Rumor has it
that after Thursday Dr. K is considering a Pied a Terre in the
Castro. Speaking of hats D’anglin Anglin’s little straw
bonnet combined with his dress to leave him looking like a cross
between a transsexual Amish farm wife and a slut. Tipping back yet
another umbrella drink Just Barb, Open Wide’s mom, was busy
inviting Nutless Sac to stay with her when he visits Minnesota
for a family reunion. Open Wide was so shocked she almost
choked on her pink boa until her mother giggled and said that Nutless
was much too old for her. Having struck out with Just Barb Nutless
consoled himself by playing kneesies with Just Mark whose
beatific smile added to his already separated at birth from Jesus
looks. Speaking of tipping Bigfoot made a few bucks when a
very toasted patron mistook her shawl collared jacket for a uniform
and ordered a drink from her. Never at a lose BF snagged a
drink off the table of some lost in love civilians and handed it to
the patron who was so pleased by the speed of her delivery that he
pressed a fiver into her hand. OW’s sister Just Katie
was carrying on quite the conversation with leopard bedecked Shaft
but it all came to naught when Shaft remembered that he was
married. All good things must end even slurping up hooch at the Tonga
Room and eventually the pack was pried to loose to indulge in a
circle jerk bringing them back to the Top of the Mark where, sadly,
management wasn’t quite as thrilled to take Gypsies’
money, but they did take it as opposed to the services offered by a
tipsy sheathed in black Lois Lame. Those with the fortitude to
stay were treated to I R Stupid and Spanky tripping the
light fantastic. I R in his simple frock and Spanky looking
swanky in her spaghetti straps and taffeta took the place by storm.
Almond Joy hearing about Spanky’s performance was
beside himself with pleasure, quoth Almond Joy “Maybe
tonight she’ll feel like a nut.” While some continued their
revels at the Mark others moved on down towards next stop the Irish
Bank. Just Doesn’t Get It lived up to his name when he
stopped to chat with two humongous bikers who whistled at him. On the
other hand he did get two phone numbers. Gypsies filled the
bar with more black than a convention for priests. Turing heads
sending tongues wagging. As the Guinness flowed tempers flared when
some of the women who shall go nameless, yes Scarlett O’Hairy
that means you and Handjob For Humanity, resented
Tongueless being the only one asked to dance. Shimmering in
his sequins and spinning and dipping with a young bravo Rocky and
Bullwinkle if not Fred and Ginger were put to shame. Oh the hissing,
spitting, and hair pulling were awful Dickless Namehole never
one to miss an opportunity was on his cell phone trying to sell a
rematch to Fox. Jealousy is such an ugly emotion. Phone Sex
and Fits In pulled the combatants apart, paying a price in
broken nails and false eyelashes, and peace was soon restored with
air kisses all around. The pack decided that discretion being the
better part of valor to turn for home and free booze. Back at the
start the Sacred Bucket filled with Legare Street Punch, Fits
In reads too many recipes, was brought forth and the serious
drinking started. Broken Trojan, who with a closet full of red
dresses couldn’t find a black one to wear, spent the evening
staring at Cream Filled Buns in the hope that she would fall
even more out of her dress and he’d get to stuff her back in.
Latex Dreams lacked the latex but she certainly had a late
arriving Pump Fake dreaming. How sad that Thumper had to wake
him from his reverie. Drill Me never made it to any of the
bars how sad especially since she and Bite Size were dressed
as twins. King Rongjon, nothing stronger than water in his
hand, held the Sword Of Power so straight that two pigeons
mistook him for a statue with predictable results. Ignoring the
impact he proceeded to distribute down-downs in his usual fair and
strong manner. Special attention was paid to OW with King
Rongjon versifying in honor of her birthday. It was Dickless
Namehole’s Bday as well and he’ll get a poem when he
becomes cute and blonde in his next life. The festivities moved to
Pier 23 where Just Claire, Scarlett O’Hairy’s chum
in the water, set off a feeding frenzy by those land sharks I R
Stupid and Naked Hasher. Hopefully there wasn’t too much
blood in the water. Black dresses, pearls, and the Gypsies,
classics all. Cheers.