Run #1346 Hand Pump Doesn’t Twiddle His Thumbs!

Hand Pump is a whirling dervish man on a mission and not someone who is gonna sit around and twiddle his thumbs. When HP sets a trail he SETS A TRAIL. Our hare is all-inclusive. You want an Eagle trail, check. You want a Turkey trail, check. You want a Walkers’ trail, but of course, no worries. What with HP training to be a pediatric neurosurgeon it’s not like he has all that much time to spare. The Gypsies certainly appreciate his efforts but suggest he get some treatment for his ADHD. HP gathered the pack in the parking lot at O’Shaughnessy and Portola and as usual it became the parking lot for the Gypsies, no civilians need apply. Hell, even Camel Toe who was last at a trail when dinosaurs ruled the earth was there to pick up his kid and stopped for a pint of Lagunitas Little Sumpin’ Easy from the keg. Since CT preached to the pack when he first came to the Gypsies it just seemed appropriate that he preach again. One Night Only was kind enough to point out the CT that something was oozing out of his pants and he might want to mop himself before his kid raised any questions. King Rongjon looked at the pack and decided that his aching back would be better served by going the Mira Loma Club for a pint but he was pleased to see that Just Will had been joined by Just Tad so he wouldn’t have to twist his back to look up in just one direction. Our hare more of less provided a chalktalk that largely consisted of “Don’t get on the Eagle trail if you have a heart condition or just don’t want to keep falling over, and there are great views”. On that note the pack was off. All 3 trails crossed Portola and zigzagged around for a bit before splitting off. The Lost Patrol consisted of the ever whinging and whining Tongueless, the ever put upon Fits In, and Tongue Depressor and Qaeda Cunt who were hoping to cop copious treats and maybe a squirrel or two. While the rest of the pack made their way around all the altitude of Twin Peaks the LP opted for the Walkers’ trail at the insistence of the hounds. Trail for this quartet took them along Portola and indeed there were great views of the city, just not the ones our hare had referred to. This being the home of the cynic and miserable traffic it was no surprise to come across a poor bastard trying to back out of a stall onto Portola while next to a blind curve. T offered to watch traffic and wave him out and the guy responded, “You’d do that?” Welcome to San Francisco. Fits In, wise in the ways of city thinking piped up, “He might not even lie to you”. While the likes of Blow Queen and Cuming Mutha were enjoying the heights and depths of Hand Pump’s efforts the LP was acquiring Adopt A Pussy. Poor AAP was busy adding injury to injury by falling hard on his already broken and bandaged finger; some people have all the luck. Trail took them on the overpass on Market St. where they told AAP about the time trail went over the pack was treated to an outstanding view of some civilians fucking like mad in the building that faces the overpass. Once across Market it was more or less a straight shot home even for the pack that was on the true trail although they worked up a good deal more sweat. Back at the start Cockulus Occulus was there to greet them and point out that she had followed trail all the way across Portola and “Please for the sake of Jesus or whoever tap that fucking keg!” At that point FI moved the Outbeer to the side of the parking lot that is chained off and the paraphernalia for bacchanaling was laid out. HP kindly put a lantern on the ground to keep drunks oops pack members from falling over the chains and Dick Ass Mother Fucker complained that potentially seeing falling drunks was the reason he was there. Hand Pump’s ADHD was in full blossom as he produced 90 home baked cookies that the pack reduced to crumbs and Margarita mix that with the Tequila from Fits In went into a potent Sacred Bucket. Stinky Floss found the perfect mix was a Margarita with cookie crumbs mixed in, Stinky Floss is always thinking. Lois Lame brought news about Bitches Bitch and his unhappiness with Saipan. LL pointed out that had he been happy she’d not have had an excuse to drown her sadness for him in Margaritas. Manhole found it necessary to give his keys to Mans Best Hole yet again and hope no police would find it odd to see a Lab driving a Mercedes. Dr. Kimble pointed out that MBH is a Black Lab and Missed Delivery chimed in that might be a problem. 5150 stayed busy draining the keg into the multiplicity of growlers he carries. That’s when Jack The Ripper arrived having done trail behind everyone else. The King arrived and convened the Circle. The Sword Of Power proved to be powerfully useful in keeping RJ upright while he condemned all and sundry for being PC. He complained loudly about Just Will and Just Tad being even taller when he was on the ground looking up. It was one of those nights. Cheers.