Run #485 Shame!

Rhett Butthole decided better late than never would be his operative phrase so he called the Gypsies to Pacifica last Thursday to celebrate himself. The pack gathered at a parking lot in the middle of nowhere. Is there a somewhere in Pacifica? Visiting from the GuamH3 the nameless Vanessa handled the Sacred Missal with enough skill to assure that Rhett’s shorts had as much frosting as his cake. Trail started with a circle jerk that took the pack down the cliffs close enough to feel the spray and back up past the start. Then it was back down again. The trail involved enough up and down to leave the pack sea sick. Not that the trail was steep but Drill Me deciding to live another day let Bite Size off leash rather than end up body surfing to the base of the cliff. It was another evening of Whippet In and Whippet Out trying to raise their kibble quota with insurance money earned by turning Tongueless into a street luge. Trail eventually went all the way down to the beach and those foolish enough, spell that Naked Hasher, to do it found themselves just cuming back up and also missing the beer check. Our visitors from the GuamH3 Vanessa and the nameless Al also ended up on the beach. In a very unGypsy like gesture Scarlett O’Hairy actually exhibited some concern for their wellbeing. Clearly she was in need of the curative powers of copious quantities of alcohol. While on the beach Sammy accumulated enough sand in his coat to turn No Hands and Meat Pie’s living room into a tropical resort. By the time the rest of the pack got in Dick Chick was long gone apparently she had a date and came for the *un, likely the only time she came that night, to assure she’d get hot and sweaty. Rather than freeze the pack moved to El Toro Loco where Huevos Rancheros did his usual outstanding job in the kitchen. The Sacred Bucket was filled with River Madness and it wasn’t long before the madness spread. While getting more piss Tongueless ran across two minions of law enforcement in Pacifica and invited them to dine with the pack. No sooner did they enter the restaurant than Fits In and Phone Sex were cooing over their uniforms and asking to touch their weapons. The heavily sweating officers beat a hasty retreat. Enjoying the Bucket way more than is safe Sniff My Box offered to show them how a Jaegermeister Girl would have done it. The Sacred Bucket took its toll. Oh sure, it was another clamoring of “Tits out for the boys” but when Bigfoot acting in King Rongjon’s place dishing out down-downs called for “Dicks out for the chicks” it was head for the hills. Poofters! While the Gypsy bimbos rock the boys in the band suffer from shrinkage phobia. Many were called but few chose to rise up and show their genital pride. Well it’s time for those perps to do the walk of shame. Nutless Sac must have been afraid he’d live up to his name or maybe Just Esther wasn’t interested in fluffing him for action. Just Guy was too busy cowering in the toilet to unsheathe his steel. Likes To Lick claimed to be too much of an “officer and a gentleman” but maybe he’s just too little. Is it any wonder Open Wide was busy getting it on with a cardboard poster? Now Desperation visiting from the SingaporeH3 knows why LCB insists on doing it in the dark. Just Doesn’t Get It, well now we know for sure why that’s true. Just Doesn’t had been chatting up Just Jen but he left her wondering what he had to be ashamed of and not interested in finding out. Even Napoleon Boner Dog stays out of his bed. Where were those young studs Go Nad and Just Sean? They were busy realizing that all those years of wanking hadn’t made them any bigger and ashamed to admit it. Even an offer of assistance from Handjob For Humanity couldn’t get them to show their stuff. So who rose to the occasion? Giving their all for FHAC-UH3, not as it turned out that there was much to give, were Apple Pie Ho and Mr. Poopy Pants. Who held the Gypsy standard high? Who flew their flags with pride? The honors fell to I R Stupid and Tongueless. Not that in Tongueless’ case anything was even visible to the naked eye but it’s the thought that counts. California creamin’ on such a summer’s night. Cheers.