Run #1559 Don’t Put Him Out to Pasture Yet! 

Dr. Kimble laid the Gypsies’ trail from the parking lot of Blackie’s Pasture In Tiburon last week and the pack gathered to celebrate its hare who is not quite as old as the beloved Blackie, the horse whose statute dominates the pasture. The parking lot was full when the Outbeer arrived but Manhole, Backside Banger and Adopt A Pussy were directing traffic away from the landing space for the keg of Lagunitas Island Beats! Even the K 9 Auxiliary of the Order Of The Sleepless Knights was represented by I’m Gay on the other end of the leash from R U Gay and Moodle and Just Gigi attending with Early To Bed and Blowing Zydeco! As the pack enjoyed the good weather and pounding the piss there was grassroots move to just stay in the lot, enjoy the weather and drink. Lois Lame led the opposition pointing out that it would mean having to listen to Princess Slut or as she is known in the Gypsies, Me Me Me, expound on anything as long as she could hear herself talk! Since he is still “dry” King Of Bed Bugs had no opinion but No Blo Ho, generously drinking KBB’s share, got 2 votes and LL carried the day, just. Early To Bed having been a librarian before retiring to a life of leisure was the perfect one to take up the Sacred Missal and expound on loving families. Dr. K gave a chalktalk and sent the pack into the dying of the light. As usual the pack was out of site before the Lost Patrol had secured the keg et al in the Outbeer so they made a decision to play it by ear. The LP was composed even more than usual of the halt, lame and bombed; a frightening agglomeration of Backside Banger, Adopt A Pussy, Tongueless and Fits In. FI was playing her usual role as Mother Carey taking care of her chicks. Trail took the pack out of the parking lot and onto the path along the bay. Dr. K enjoys the heights, so it wasn’t long before the paths diverged but unlike Robert Frost the LP took the one more traveled. The LP were so slow getting started that even Wash This Asshole was ahead, rumor has it that he and PS were able to discuss the best way to prepare oats in an InstaPot. Now there is a podcast in the making! Trail diverged to go up the hill and, insanely, T suggested following it but the threats from the 3 sane members brought him to his senses! Dr. K had outdone himself in assuring the true cognoscenti screaming muscles combined with outstanding views. The LP chose one out of two and you can guess which one that was. Eventually the strong in body and spirit were reunited with the weak in body and spirit and the true meaning of the evening took shape. The keg moved to the shore and the Cloak Of Invisibility was draped over it. The Vitamin J was set out and the Sacred Bucket filled with Fits In’s Yellow Peril! As he sucked down cups of the Yellow Peril, Hose Blower realized that the real peril he faced was making it back home. ETB and BZ advised him not to worry, they would be happy to tow HB on his motorcycle. The offer didn’t seem to calm HB’s concerns. Manhole certainly enjoyed the trail and was busy making notes so he would remember it on Friday. Hand Pump kept pointing out that he was bloodless and 5 Angry Inches corrected HP saying that he should say he wasn’t bloody not that he was bloodless. That’s what comes of working in a hospital. T took up the Sword of Power and convened the Circle. Chickenboner declared T, still sporting shades, looked cool plus it meant no one would see him rolling his eyes as he gave them demeaning down-downs. Speaking of demeaning, Fits In pointed out that maybe T would remember to bring his regular glasses next time! Squeeze Box was called forth but before she would take her down-down she had to be reassured that the Sacred Bucket had never actually been used to mop floors. T gave SB the needed assurance but he somehow managed to avoid the use of it in washing cars! As the pack growlered, drank, and ate Bitch Pimp arrived and declared the trail magnificent. This was followed by a jackknife off the high board into the Bucket. Someone is going to be very sorry on the ‘morrow. The keg survived the growler gang and laughed all the way back to Novato. Thanks to Dr. K another Thursday was wasted well with the Gypsies. Cheers.