Pied Piper trying not to cause another lockdown brought the Gypsies’ rat pack to the Log Cabin in the Presidio rather than shut down central in Sausalito. PP is known far and wide for his trails and potentially for feeding the pack, so San AntonioH3 sent it’s premiere traveling hasher, Hands Trans Tiny Puppet Mobiles to check it out. Sadly, PP did not cook but the keg of Lagunitas Hazy Wonder dulled any pain that might have been felt. What fools these mortals be was proved once again by the pack expecting the weather to be anything but frigid. You know it’s cold when Just Fuck Off is wearing sleeves! Then there’s the one’s like Tri Crapalete who glory in weather cold enough to be able to blame it for shrinkage! Just Georgina patted his head and rolled her eyes, can you say “mixed messages”. The pack rallied as HTTPM provided a Texas size sermon from the Male Missal! Even Pencil Dick rose to the occasion. As PD said, “A good book can make you dream!” Noting that all heads were erect our hare provided a chalktalk guaranteeing an easy trail as long a death could be avoided, so a pretty usual pack of lies. As turned out our hare was pretty spot on as trail took all concerned, including an assortment of LPs that included the Remora like bonded pair of Wash This Asshole and HTTPM, down Storey Ave. and across Lincoln Blvd to wind around the coastal lookout decks and their graffiti, including some to support Ukraine. It was fascinating to see Yank Your Daddy hold up his paw and bring traffic to a screeching halt allowing Choke Your Daddy and Exaggerated Crack to cross in safety! Trail went along the bluffs overlooking the bay before crossing under the Golden Gate Bridge, skirting the GGB Welcome Center where the pack was probably fairly unwelcome anyway. Trail took the pack through a low-ceilinged tunnel that was one of the multitude of places Tongueless that rammed his head. Fits In not wishing yet another ER visit where the doc would tell T to just go to a body shop for a quick weld since he had so much metal in said head, insisted that he just duckwalk through the tunnel. Trail led the pack past the Battery East parking lot, scene of many a Gypsies debacle, and down towards Crissy Field. Instead of Crissy Field trail once again crossed Lincoln Blvd and climbed up to Hoffman St. by Pilot’s Row. Trail then came back on itself and went down and along Lincoln Blvd to rejoin the Battery East Trail and wind back through the Presidio tunnel past oncoming traffic, remember the admonishment to not get killed, and back to the start. The Gypsies set up home next to the Log Cabin and the keg was joined by the Sacred Bucket filled with River Madness. Showing impeccable timing 5 Angry Inches chose to arrive just as the Bucket was filled. Not that River Madness has a reputation but on hearing what was in the Bucket Who’s Your Daddy and Chickenboner both tried to hand the car keys to each other. Blow Queen was silent, but he did make the sign of the cross. Hand Pump pointed out that BQ wasn’t Catholic and BQ said he wanted all the bases covered where River Madness is concerned. PP and BQ strung the party lights and the pack continued cramming Vitamin J into their mouths hoping it would absorb some of the Bucket. The wind was still whipping around, and the cold hadn’t abated. Not that Dr. Kimble was toasted but he told Just Ted AKA The Other Bastard how much he liked the blue of his tattoo sleeves. JTATOB just stood there shaking and mumbled they weren’t tattoos. Even cold can’t stop the siren call of the Bucket and in one fell swoop Cheese Turd, 5150, and Ultrahead arrived out of the darkness. Jack The Ripper having avoided being killed won the DFL title. Tongueless took up the Sword Of Power and convened the Circle where Just Julie announced that she was so cold that she hoped T would execute her! One look in T’s eyes and Fits In knew it was time for the Sword to go back into its scabbard and she took it from his hand. Manhole offered to drive HTTPM back to his hotel and having consumed his share and more of the Bucket he blithely agreed. No sooner had the growler brigade caused the keg to fart in submission than the night gave up those Gypsies of yor The Cunt Next Door and St. Titty Boo Boo along with the fruit of their loins, Just Rosie and Just Harry. In town visiting STBB’s mom they knew that they had to make an appearance! A cold evening warmed by the Bucket was enjoyed by all. Cheers.