Run #484 …And Bigfoot got the Eggplant
The
Fat Man and the Cripple were at it again last Thursday as Tongueless
and Nutless Sac took the occasion of Fits In’s natal
day to once again torment the Gypsies. In vain hopes of seeing
the sun shine they called the pack to order at the parking lot at Ft.
Baker in Sausalito. The usual riff-raff with no lives outside of
hashing gathered to celebrate yet another Thursday with nothing
better to do. Pump Fake in a bid to curry favor with
the Hashing Gods sacrificed Just Beth a sweet young thing from
Michigan to the slavering lust of the Gypsies. Her face red
enough to be used to paint a fire engine Just Beth gave the reading
from the Sacred Missal enough emphasis to show that while she
may not like to use certain words she clearly understood their
meaning. Her reading was meaningful enough to resurrect Dead Dick
and remind Just Doesn’t Get It what he’s been missing.
Note: ask him to show you the trick he’s taught Napoleon
Boner Dog involving the liver paste. Promising a vodka check for
the needy our hares sent the pack off to play. The first check was
enough to reduce the pack to its usual level of headless chickenness.
True trail was finally found and the pack set off around the shore to
cum up under the bridge where overzealous CHPers probably mistook
them for a band of suicidal terrorists until they heard the cries of
“on-on”. Trail took the pack up the Coastal Trail where like
Irvine and Mallory on Everest they disappeared into the fog. As the
pack popped out on the ridge at the top they were met with a blast of
air that left them feeling like a model in the Boeing wind tunnel.
For the first time in his life King Rongjon was glad to be a
fat bastard as the likes of LCB wafted past. Lois Lame
was so terrified that she begged D’anglin Anglin to hump her
as a way to stay nailed down. Open Wide and Likes To Lick
were foolish enough to take a Tongueless suggested short cut
and heading into the wind spent the rest of the evening floating
gently over the Headlands like a pair of barrage balloons. Phone
Sex arriving late and starting the trail well behind the pack
saw them floating in the distance and remembered that she’d rather
drink than *un. Deciding that she’d prefer surviving for another
Bday rather than continuing on the trail Fits In turned
Whippet In and Whippet Out back down the trail and
headed for the alcohol. Days later she was still nursing the blisters
on her hand from Whippet In trying desperately to follow the
pack. Speaking of hounds, while Just Guy was dicing with
hypothermia an injured and non-*unning Libby was busy
ingesting the cockpit of his Beemer. Lost in the fog and wind the
half-minds headed on. The hares and Bigfoot, who’d cleverly
managed to forget her *unning shoes, were waiting for the pack at the
base of the ridge with a large bottle of citrus vodka. Nutless
and Bigfoot suffering from the cold found that nipping at the
supplies not only warmed them but helped pass the time. Two young and
cumly civilians wandered off the road and soon a party was in full
swing and the pack forgotten. The pack followed trail to the end of
the cliff and then found itself bushwacking back to the road as best
it could. Go Nad was the first down by following the simple
expedient of lying on his back and sliding downhill. Apparently he
chose to go head first secure in the knowledge that hitting his head
wouldn’t damage anything vital. The hares suddenly found their
supply of vodka being seriously depleted by those toasting their own
survival. Dr. Kimble chose not to drink feeling his survival
was still in doubt. Having lived up to his name on several portions
of the trail Splat chose to forego the vodka and taking no
more steps than necessary go directly to the anesthetizing properties
of the Sacred Bucket. Drill Me and Bite Size
were alone so long in the fog that by the time they finally got down
there’d been quite a bit of eyeing each other and wondering how
long the meat supply would last. Careening down the hill Pull It
Out from the PortlandH3 was just behind Mossy Patch hoping
to use the out of control rush as an excuse to shove it in but she
kept just a head of his little head. Not that he was nervous about
the down go but Stool Sample left a number of his namesakes
along the hillside. Eventually even the DFLers were back and the
serious portion of the evening begun. The Sacred Bucket was
filled with vodka tonic and fresh limes and lemons (part of those
five servings of fruits and vegetables everyone needs). Manhandler
who’d made a sore tendon even more sore was being tended to by 3
Ball J in the back of a truck and not wanting her to have to
travel far from the cooler the piss came to her. Bottles were soon
flying out of the truck bed like fireworks on the Fourth and from the
howling it was clear that Manhandler was living up to her
name. Between nips from the bottle and cups from the Bucket
Bigfoot was soon in fine fettle, she was as happy as her hapi
coat. First she was busy flaunting her farmers’ market find an
eggplant shaped like Enter The Gerbil’s penis and balls only
bigger. From there it didn’t take her long to become intensely
involved with a blowup Jaegermeister shark. With said shark firmly
clamped between her thighs she cruised the waters of the pack giving
a whole new and frightening meaning to Jaws. Without warning
Tongueless was savagely attacked from the rear. As he squirmed
with panic and delight Strap On from PhillyH3 sandwiched him
from the front going down on the shark’s snout. Yes, there is a
Heaven and Tongueless was there. Rumor has it that Just
Mark was busy smearing anchovy paste on his member in a vain
attempt to attract the shark’s attention. Saucer eyed Dr. Kimble
was breathing hard and downing vodka as Bag Lady half in the
Bucket decided to reenact the action sans shark…well you can
imagine the snout substitute she found. Scarlett O’Hairy,
never one to pass up a challenge, announced “what a chick from
Philly can do Scarlett can do” and proved it to Just John.
One look at the shark and Naked Hasher was long gone. The King
intervened and brought a semblance of circle to order where he
immortalized Fits In in verse as the pack wolfed down her BDay
cookies. He also found time to induct Just Vincent into
the Order of the Sleepless Knights. Just V knelt a
commoner and tapped by the Sword Of Power arose as Mr. Bone
Jangles in honor of his dancing ability. While Just Guy
was soliciting Dick Chick she was interested in, and we quote,
“that boy from Iowa that is oh-so-cute…he's got the nicest eyes.”
So you know who you are let’s see you go for it. The Sacred
Bucket was at its best laying out hashers left and right.
Escrowtum a Whine and Chowder Society blonde and her equally
blonde sister Goes Down Easy made a soft landing spot
for = My Cock2 from Everyday is WednesdayH3 when the Bucket
pole axed him.
The action moved to Dario’s pizza where Enter The
Gerbil finally zipped Bigfoot
into the body bag and took her home for a decent
burial. was a close second as his squeeze Esther, who’d been
desperately awaiting his arrival, Nutless Sac dragged him
across the parking lot by the least sensitive part (much to her
chagrin) of his anatomy. If you can’t do the time don’t do the
crime. Cheers.