Run #473 Beware the Intelligent Hare
Woe
unto those who think they can shortcut a Shithead trail. That
fact was brought home yet again last Thursday as D’anglin
Anglin, McTaco, and even the King thought they
could think like this hare only to find they would have been better
off trying for a mind meld with Grim Rimmer, frightening as
that is to contemplate. While the pack enjoyed the freezing wind and
cold at the parking lot at the Glen Park Bart Station a virgin or
close facsimile was sought to provide the evening’s gospel reading.
The closest the pack could cum to a virgin to handle our religious
observance was Splat, a sad commentary. When Splat
foolishly mentioned that he was a virgin and not just to the Gypsies
Scarlett O’Hairy’s entire body perked up. Sacred
Missal in hand and blushing at describing things he’d only
dreamt of Splat provided the pack with a needed dose of old
time religion and himself with food for thought. Feeling somehow
cleansed by Splat’s reading the pack was ready to face a
Shithead trail. The trail shot through the parking lot and
wound its way to Monterey where it turned uphill and became an
exercise in pain. The hare and his twisted assistant, everyone’s
favorite cripple, Nutless Sac were at every check to
savor the agony of dafeet. Nutless took special pleasure in
watching Fits In kick and beat Tongueless to get
his whining whinging ass up every hill. Even Whippet In
and Whippet Out were forced to struggle hauling his
enormous hulk along the hare’s idea of a level street. Eventually
the trail came to an Eagle/Turkey split and while the Eagles gained
altitude and sang Nearer My God to Thee the Turkeys gobbled and
groveled their way toward a beer check. The Eagles had enough
altitude gain to give Likes To Lick a nose bleed. Open
Wide’s only question was “Is it your time of month?”
Both sets of half-minds were finally reunited at City College where
the hare and his major dumo cackled gleefully as the pack slowly sank
into hypothermia while trying to solve a check. Naked Hasher
looking like an anorexic Rambo was clearly suffering from the cold as
he *an off in search of a trail that existed only in his own mind. So
lost was the pack that At Your Cervix was offering her
cervix to anyone who could point her towards home. Comes Slowly,
icicles forming in the drool from her lips desperate to get back to
Sadie and her red wine, finally solved the check and sent the
pack on towards beer. While all this was going on the lost patrol of
McTaco, D’anglin and King Rongjon were
kneeling at the cross on Mt. Davidson and pleading for a sign of
trail. Most of the pack was still moving just to keep warm when the
beer check was achieved. In a desperate attempt to have his cake and
eat it too Scrotum burned his shorts to keep himself warm
while he slurped his icy brew. Only Rhett Butthole noticed
that Scrotum was now clothed in a Monica’s Own thong but he
was quick to point it out to the pack. Not that it probably means
anything but Just Dan spent the rest of the trail hot on
Scrotum’s heels and Scrotum spent the rest of the
trail *unning as fast as he could. From the beer check it was a
straight shot back to the start and the Sacred Bucket. It
hadn’t gotten any warmer while the pack was out but Pied
Piper didn’t mind saying it wasn’t as frigid as his wife.
It wasn’t long before the antifreeze from the Mai-Tais in the
Sacred Bucket was coursing through their veins and the
pack was warming up. Bag Lady was so concerned about
Dr. Kimble still being out on trail that she drowned
her sorrows in the comfort of the Bucket. When he finally
arrived Dr. K found her so far gone that he tied her to the
hood of his car rather than risk damage to the interior. Bigfoot
was so thrilled to have gotten a clean bill of health that she
proceeded to fry her liver. Enter The Gerbil was toasted
enough to take her seriously when she sent him off to get onions and
bacon to go with it. Handjob For Humanity was hoping SCAF
would be there to keep her warm but even without him things heated up
when Jackoff arrived. Grim Rimmer returned from trail
with a trophy the box from a porn movie that clearly stared Rhett
who was clearly visible in a picture on the front. Just
Doesn’t Get It still doesn’t get it. He arrived with Bella
unleashed and she promptly tried to make a meal of Sammy. Meat
Pie quickly kicked her for two points and No Hands
dribbled her back to Just Doesn’t for good measure.
Lucky for Bella that she didn’t try to go after Bite Size
who was just waiting to bitch slap her and turn her into a tasty
snack. Not that it would have been possible if Drill Me hadn’t
gotten so soused that she ended up wearing the muzzle. Beats Me
was busy haranguing Twinkle Dick about the dangers of the
Bucket when those Mai-Tais turned her into a living example.
Not that Twink was in any condition to hear her. Speaking of
Twink he keeps promising to prove to Bigfoot that his name is
Twinkle not Wrinkle Dick but he’s never sober enough
to use the steam iron. Phone Sex and 5150 arrived late
enough to miss the exercise but early enough to exercise their right
to get soused. The King safely back from Mt. Davidson
administered down-downs and the pack continued ravaging the Bucket
and Cooler until there was nothing left to pillage then like
the marauding nomads they are moved on to a local pizza place to
continue their destruction. A mind is a wonderful thing to get
wasted. Cheers.