Run #1360 Stowe It!

Who’s Your Daddy wanted some Lagunitas DogTown Pale Ale so he laid a trail for the Gypsies knowing that he would be getting a Sacred Cooler full of the stuff. Perv that he is WYD called the pack to order at the Boathouse at Stowe Lake in Golden Gate Park hoping that he’s be able to toss back a few bottles and ogle high school honeys that might be there for a Prom time party. Well WYD was disappointed in one respect and it wasn’t the piss. Our hare was hardly disappointed with the size of the pack, 30 half, or less, minds showed up to do his trail. There was plenty of parking and Lois Lame was thrilled that the toilets were still open so she could put her *unning gear on without having to put up with the leering Dr. Kimble. Dr. K argues that he’s so old he has no idea what he might be leering about but Dick Ass Mother Fucker took him aside and explained it to him. Backside Banger left baby Just James at home and apparently his cash as well, had Pepe Le Poop been there he was would have been applauding. Bitch Pimp arrived and knelt before our hare in thanks that he’d picked a start that she could actually find on her own. Just Lily arrived with Cream Chugger in tow and Qaeda Cunt promptly set to sniffing her butt, Just Lily’s not CC’s! The Gypsies were graced by the presence of the crème de la crème of Euro trash. Cuming Mutha was especially pleased to have people there who didn’t notice an accent. Prince, West LondonH3, took the pulpit to preach a sermon in his plumiest tones. Somehow even the raunchiest bits of the Male Missal sound like they belong in Westminster Abbey when they’re read in that voice. While the pack listened raptly to those dulcet tones Pied Piper was busy handing out Almond Roca. Brave Fart tossed one into her mouth and promptly tossed it back out as Adopt A Pussy had to say that Almond Roca always makes him think of “cat turds”. Tongueless had no such qualms as he fisted a handful into his gaping maw. The Cunt Next Door was there for a final fling before she flings out her offspring so she was really happy that Hard On, West LondonH3, was there in case she should suddenly need the services of a qualified midwife. Somehow the offer of King Rongjon to handle it just didn’t seem to thrill TCND, visions of RJ and the Sword Of Power danced in her head replacing sugar plums. While all this was going on our hare had slipped off to actually lay his trail. Trail took the pack down and across Kennedy Dr. and into the woods surrounding Lloyd Lake where the pack was able to hopscotch over the rocks without breaking any ankles. As the trail took the pack through the GGP Disc Golf Course, White Trash, West LondonH3, wondered aloud that here was a sport that called for even less a mind than hashing. Further into the woods trails seemed to diverge and one set of Lost Patrolees under the guidance of On All 4s and Cuming Mutha took a lower route while another set of the halt, lame and lazy took a higher route. Twat High a hardy soul serving with NATO in England and Likker Hard the infamous German diplomat also serving in London took Tongueless and Fits In’s advice, surely a mistake, and with Tongue Depressor’s snout pushing them along soldiered on. WYD’s hobby of collecting and reviewing restrooms was in full blossom as his trail brought the pack past the Polo Field South Restrooms. 5150 nipped in for a quick one and used the towels to polish his ski pole as well as his skin pole. The pack was treated to a choice of trails since WYD’s trail overlapped Cuming Mutha’s earlier trail in spots so the it was pay your money and take your choice. “Saint” Titty Boo Boo may have over done the science approach by using carbon dating to tell him which bit of flour was older. The pack managed to find its way back to Stowe Lake and set up shop at a picnic table to have the usual bacchanalian meltdown. Things got off to an odd start with Bitches Bitch weeping with pleasure that there had been no PO. The Sacred Bucket was filled with River Madness so it was no surprise that Golden Snowball confided to Tongueless’ Penis that he needn’t worry about melting in her hand. Cockulus Oculus assumed the throne finding a spot on the picnic bench alongside the Bucket and the poured down-downs. King Rongjon reappeared along with Prince and Hard On having spent their trail time in a pub. The King took up the Sword Of Power and convening the Circle proceeded to entertain himself until he didn’t then passed the Sword to T who couldn’t even entertain Udder Moron! Hand Pump and Chickenboner wept at his even more than usual ineptitude. T of course was busy chewing Almond Roca and washing it down with River Madness so he didn’t notice. No alcohol or Vitamin J left the park alive. Cheers.