Run #412 Going Down On a Duck

So whose fault was it. Bigfoot swears it was Enter The Gerbil who caused it since RAs even when they’re Fools control the weather. T/BC insists it’s the King’s fault for going on the wagon and offending the Hashing Gods’ by going against Nature. There is blame enough to go around but regardless of who the culprit is the end result was the Gypsies got pissed on last Thursday. The fact that Sucks Cock For Crack has set two trails and been rained on both times didn’t exactly go unnoticed either. He was looking for this to be a redemption *un next time perhaps he should sacrifice Pussy Whistle the Gods instead of just having her cohare. True she’s not a virgin but she’d do. The pack gathered at Fort Miley and the whining could be heard for miles. Duncan and Parker took one look at the rain and woofed for T/BC and Fits In to piss off. Not wanting to appear dumber than the dogs they chose to stay with Nutless Sac and the beer check. If the Hashing Gods were pissed at the Gypsies it was a two way street as the Gypsies decided to hit the trail without benefit of religion. Flashlights bobbing like fireflies the pack was off on a tour of the cliffs along the coast and the Palace of the Legion of Honor. A soaking wet D’anglin A’nglin was heard mumbling that the only thing he knew about honor was once you get on her stay on her. While Shaggy Dog and Scabass Faggot were enjoying a dip in one of Golden Gate Parks more polluted lakes Nutless Sac, Fit In, and T/BC were forcing themselves to slug down beers at the Beach Chalet home of the beer check. Waterlogged rat after waterlogged rat appeared begging for a chance to get as wet on the inside as they were on the outside. Scabass arrived carrying a brace of ducks he’d found in his shorts and Handjob For Humanity was thrilled that they’d actually be having dinner. Wet from the inside out and the outside in the pack was ready to head on-in. Semenhole had spent the evening in his truck alone with Llyr. On hearing that, McTaco encouraged him to find a woman instead. LCB asked to borrow Llyr if Semenhole gets lucky. No Hands immediately dragged Sammy a safe distance away. Nutless Sac’s eagle eye spotted the garage at the Seal Rock Inn as the perfect place for the pack to hang its collective hat. Unlike most of the pack Nutless had enough sense to come in out of the rain. The Sacred Thermi had hot coffee and there was plenty of brandy and Irish Cream to make it drinkable. Camel Blower was still puffing away having put an entire pack of coffin nails in individual condoms since he has no better use for them. Before you could say coiffure Open Wide had her battery powered hair dryer in operation. You could see the light go on in Shaggy’s eyes as he asked Snakeless for a blow dry. Stone cold sober the thought of that possibility sent Hung Juror into a dead faint. The motel management was a trifle offput when the pack arrived but calmed down considerably when Likes To Lick convinced them that the pack was planning to check in. I R Stupid spotted Scabass’s ducks and offered to pluck them but, a by now toasted, Handjob told him that if there was any plucking going on she’d be doing it. Dickless Namehole and Dick Chick were huddled in a corner of the garage trying to do a name transplant. When last seen newboot Olivier was scratching his head and drooling over the whole thing. The evening moved to Hockey Heaven where locals cringed in fear as the pack drank the place dry. Sucks and Pussy, now that’s a nice combo, drank themselves into delirium over their joy at such a successful trail. If it’s gonna piss it should piss ale. Cheers.