Run #495 The Asphalt Bungle
Parking
is apparently a concept our hares Mr. Poopy Pants and 3
Ball J are unfamiliar with since none existed at either end of
their A-B trail last week. Luckily selecting the Shannon Arms on 19th
and Taraval gave the pack a place to gather and drink out of traffic
while the hares laid a “zombie trail” neither live nor dead but
then that’s the way most Gypsies are often described after a few
minutes around the Sacred Bucket. Xena The Warrior
Princess was there to announce that he’d drop kicked his latest
bimbo through the goal posts of his life having allowed her the
allotted fifteen minutes of fame as a Xena consort. Just
Mark a hasher from London strolled by just in time to be snagged
into providing the religious service for the evening. Reading the
Sacred Missal with a toney British accent his upper lip was
clearly the only thing that was stiff. Just Doesn’t Get
It announced that he wouldn’t be interested even if he was gay,
which he’s not, but there is nothing wrong with being gay, of
course. Somehow offering to have sex with Napoleon Bonerdog
doesn’t seem likely to settle any outstanding issues, if there were
any, which there aren’t, but it would be okay if there were. At
Your Cervix was a tad more direct when she poked her finger down
her throat and made gagging noises. Just Mark hung his
head, the only thing worth hanging, and left. The first check was
marked SV leading Fuck Me, Father to assume that he’d left
the city and was in Silicone Valley. Luckily Libby has a
better sense of where she is and kept him from heading for
Burlingame. The hares had promised a beer check and the pack was in
desperate need of liquid replenishment having sweated its life away
trying to find trail. At the back of the pack, where else would they
be, Tongueless, Fits In, and Splat sorely missed
the noses of Whippet In and Whippet Out to detect the mist of flour
laid down by the hares. A Beer Near sign at the school on 30th
and Lawton led them to believe that the magic elixir was on the way
only to find their hopes dashed when they bypassed the rest stop.
Still it could have been worse since the oh so upscale Mr. Poopy
Pants was flogging cheap plonk on the unsuspecting. Booger
Hooker was so distraught over being served wine instead of beer
that at the on-on he was still weeping into Phone Sex’s
bosom…clever devil. Fulfilling their promise to make this trail a
pub *un the hares sent the Mucky Duck on 9th Ave. followed
by Yancy’s on Irving. While the pack was pouring down piss 3
Ball took Tongueless back to the start so he could bring
alcohol to the finish which became 7th Ave. and the MLK in
the park. Once again the Gypsies proved that any problem can
be solved by applying the proper amount of alcohol. No plans in place
to get people back from B to A , hell just fill ‘em full of vodka
tonics from the Sacred Bucket and no worries. The Sacred
Bucket became the magic carpet on which so many floated home. Not
that Go Nad needed much help since he was still drunk from the
down-downs he’d received the week before…they must have been time
release. Speaking of down-downs with the King and Gerbil off to Goa
they were ably handled by Apple Pie Ho and Xena. Apple
Pie was busy trying to prove that he was related to Just
Catherine because he still believes in kissin’ cousins. The way
Mr. Bone Jangles was slipping off with Libby we can’t
wait to see what the puppies will look like. Just Fiona was
smarting from the way her reading of the Sacred Missal last
week was handled by Drill Me in the Trash, advice to Drill Me: never,
never piss off a redheaded woman. Having left an impression in the
shorts of all the men she met Just Fiona will be going home to
Dublin as Gay Lick a name more related to her language than
her sexual proclivities. Six Million Won Man refused to give
her to the Gypsies in exchange for two draft choices, oh well.
Who says alcohol consumption doesn’t lead to clairvoyance? It
could be 3 Ball J since while he was off to the Kezar to find
Manhandler she was tossing them down from the Sacred
Bucket. With the alcohol depleted the pack split between
Ireland’s 32 and the Shannon Arms. Those who made it back to the
Shannon Arms found Just John and Just Scott waiting for
them with open arms and open wallets. The luck of the Gypsies.
Cheers.