Run #479 Birthdays, Bimbos, and Super Novas
Only
the Gypsies could bring together tits, handjobs, and
astronomy. Honoring herself, who better, Tits 4 Hire ably
assisted by Handjob For Humanity brought the Gypsies
together at the Costco on 10th and Harrison for a few
lessons in Jell-O shooting, Yucca drinking, and how to be fucked by a
super nova. Alcohol and astronomy a chance to be drunk and
educated at the same time, who could ask for anything more. Tits
instantly assumed control of the situation by using her Costco card
as a bathroom pass, “be nice or you can’t pee.” No one has ever
seen D’anglin Anglin be nicer. Nervous shoppers tried to
steer clear of the odd and raucous bunch blocking the sidewalk.
Hounds from Hell Whippet In and Whippet Out were in
their mighty hunter mode. Every time a choice bit of meat was wheeled
by their howls froze the blood of the poor civilian pushing past. No
bit of pizza or errant cheese doodle was safe. Two legged pieces were
howled at by Sucks Donnie Osmond and Just John
but the dogs got more positive attention. Naked Hasher
made out the best as while sitting on the steps several do gooders
dropped coins into his lap. Religion was handled by the Bday girl
herself. Tits read the Sacred Missal with such feeling
that Udder Moron was seen taking himself in hand for a quick
milking. Before the pack could start the hares provided a chalk talk
that sent a shudder of fear through the assembled throng. Not
satisfied with the normal marks that prove confusing enough to
half-minds the ladies of the evening had to insert such new mind
bogglers as a “tits check” only to be solved by bimbos or by lads
once a bim has deemed them worthy of a flash (translation, none of
these checks will ever be solved), “ybn” (translation, you’ve
been fucked…what a surprise), and “super nova check”
(translation, the check can go in any direction; real translation,
you’ve been fucked). With all this potential for getting fucked the
pack was raring to go. The first bit of trail was well marked as the
hares led the pack through the parking garage at Costco. Reality set
in at the next corner where the pack stood around with its collective
thumb up the ass nodding and drooling as those foolish enough to
think it was possible searched for trail. The day was temporarily
saved by Handjob flashing by in a truck and pointing the pack
in what she claimed was the right direction. It did prove to be the
right direction for about 30 feet. The pack then found itself facing
the dreaded super nova check. Hounds took off in every direction of
the compass rose and came back from said directions. Scrotum,
Napoleonic Complex in full flower, swore eternal vengeance on hares
with the temerity to set a trail that HE found confusing. Splat
did little to calm the situation by pointing out that a bigger dick
and a smaller ego would serve him better. By now a substantial
portion of the pack led by King Rongjon and his limp legged
toady Nutless Sac had concluded that drunkenness was the
better part of valor and headed off to the nearest saloon. True trail
was eventually discovered by Just Doesn’t Get It whose mind
apparently functions like Handjob’s. Now there’s a scary
thought. Trail led across train tracks and through parking lots into
areas that while craving gentrification have yet to erase the eau
d’urine from the air. At this point Thumper caught up with
the pack and letting his nose lead the way got lost. When last seen
he’d joined a throng of homeless in a drunken sing along and was
adding his scent to that of the locals. Eventually trail led those
hardy souls still on it to a small park where our hares provided the
vodka rich elixir Yucca Dew. Between the alcohol and sugar content
it’s possible to be drunk and in a diabetic coma. Having downed a
substantial amount of the elixir Poops In The Pool and Just
Christopher a pair of Whine & Chowder Society devotees
wobbled over to a nearby driving range but Poops found Just
Christopher’s driver to small to get much distance. Drunk as
they were they were able to get his driver back in the bag before the
police arrived. The hares had promised a ride to the hip handicapped
Open Wide but in their zeal to get to the Jell-O check
abandoned her to the tender mercies of Tongueless and Fits
In. Tongueless by now bored by the trail tried to sell OW
to a roving band of youths to raise cab fare back to the start. The
intercession of OW’s beau ideal Likes To Lick
prevented Tongueless from getting a free ride and OW
from getting a ride of a different sort. As Licks To Lick
carried off his lady fair the remaining pack trudged over Potrero
Hill to yet another windswept park and the promised Jell-O. Science
was served when McTaco made the startling discovery that
cramming enough vodka filled Jell-O down your throat can almost make
you forget the cashectomy your ex is performing. From here the trail
on-in was as straight as Rhett Butthole claims to be. The
table was procured and the Sacred Bucket filled with
Lemonade rich vodka and fresh lemons and the pack proceeded to get
properly spiffed. As the sun began to set along with the likes of The
Ripper, who found a comfortable curbstone for a pillow, Pump
Fake found himself as the only thing to cum between At
Your Cervix and Yack In the Box’s living up to his
name. Manly man that he is Pump took the full force of Yack’s
yack. Looking at the now colorful and odiferous lad Dick Chick
could only giggle and say that he reminded her of something Bigfoot
once had on the end of her tongue after chewing, a close inspection
by Enter The Gerbil confirmed her call. Drill Me could
barely keep Bite Size from dining on his drippings. Poor Drill
Me was reduced to pointing out to Bite Size that it wasn’t
even her own vomit. Clearly auditioning for the part of a mad
scientist’s malignant dwarf Scrotum was off defiling Mr.
Poopy Pants’ personal chalice and currying favor with assorted
homeless. What DUI and Itch My Rod two more Whine &
Chowder Society wanker were caught doing with the chalice is
condemned even by Satanists. Not that 5150 was drunk but when
last seen he was actually drinking from the chalice. Humanitarians
that they are Meat Pie and No Hands stayed with him
should he need immediate hospitalization. I R Stupid
was a late arrival and still wearing a cast by evening’s end the
cast had moved from his foot to his head but not to worry there was
no stress on his foot as he was doing the leopard crawl and
complaining about going blind. As usual Twinkle Dick was more
lit than the Embarcadero at Christmas. As the Bucket drained the pack
moved on to wreak havoc at ZaSpot for pizza and piss. We await the
alignment of the next heavenly bodies. Cheers