Run #417 Dickless Namehole and the Phantom Trail: Episode I

Close your eyes and you can picture it. You can see Dickless Namehole prancing and preening in front of the mirror rubbing his hands together and singing “Clever, I’m so clever, so clever and witty and wise, I enjoy being a hare.” “Oh yes, the trail will be brilliant. The excruciatingly detailed directions to the start will just be a foretaste of the brilliance yet to come.” “No Scarlett O’Hairy am I. My trail will be the stuff of legend and even Snakeless will sing my praises.” Sadly all dreams must end. Dickless’ bubble burst at the Boathouse at Lake Merced. Hares propose and the Hashing Gods dispose. They began disposing of Dickless by dropping the temperature and raising the wind. Speaking of wind Julie a virgin friend of Open Wide was crying into the wind as she declaimed from the Sacred Missal. The page was so poor that the pack actually wanted to *un an ill omen to be sure. With no excuses left the pack was forced to be on-on. The first, last, and always check was at the entrance to the parking lot. At this point the pack entered the Dickless Dimension. Trail, trail is for wimps, whingers and Whine and Chowder Society wankers like Beastie Boy and Ultra Head. Dickless had put the first mark of true trail nearer to San Diego than the check and behind a tree to boot but assuming that Gypsies are ubermenschen he felt the problem would be easily solved. To bad he forgot that while the pack may be composed of ubermenschen they are ubermenschen with half minds. The check was, of course solved, incorrectly. Does the name D’anglin A’nglin mean anything to you? He solved the check by finding trail at the top of the dunes overlooking the ocean and the pack half mindlessly followed him. Too bad it wasn’t the right portion of the trail. No one bothered to ask why there were no marks leading to the one he found. While someone was mumbling about a back check Naked Hasher (by this time blue from the cold. Craig, Fits In, and T/BC found a mark and proceeded to follow it. T/BC would like to blame the mistake on Parker and Duncan but others know better. After thrashing around in the sand for a considerable time the pack was reunited at a check suspiciously close to the start. King Rongjon pronounced, as only the King can, that here lay true trail. The choice of following it to the next inevitable screw up or heading in to drink was an easy choice to make. Oh what fools these mortals be! Nutless Sac and Open Wide were off at the beer check complete with the keys to Nutless’s truck and all the booze. In between tears of frustration, plans to smash windows, and a futile search for a nonexistent hide a key D’anglin A’nglin took off on foot in search of the beer check. Likes To Lick being more technologically savvy and lazier gathered a posse and went in search of the key or the hare’s hair (not that there’s much of that) by Jeep. As icicles formed where sweat once *an Bigfoot announced that she had a twenty in her shoe and off they went in search of warmth and some piss to pound. Left behind were Mother Cerveza, T/BC, Fits In, and Snakeless. Snakeless tore what few clothes he still wore from his body relishing the cold and the increase in anger it fueled against the hapless hare. Ever the gent Shaggy Dog gave his leathers to Mother Cerveza staving off hypothermia. While she survived the cold Blue Collar Butt Fuck relegated her to the truck bed for the ride home thanks to the Shaggy smell. While Captain Dickhead arrived late he arrived with a stash of tequila that kept the others alive. The Jeep troops did find the hare who disavowed all knowledge of Open Wide and Nutless claiming that they were off in the ether. D’anglin on foot did find they and returned with the keys to the kingdom. The Sacred Bucket was filled with River Madness, the warmth-seeking weaklings were retrieved, and the party started. When Dickless returned Snakeless took him to trail school as only Snakeless can. King Rongjon, Sword Of Power in hand, authorized Enter The Gerbil, his favorite Fool, to initiate the circle. Guilty and innocent were called forth to do their down-downs in Metaxa, tequila, River Madness, and finally piss. Dickless was allowed to fall out of the circle once alcohol poisoning was assured. ETG announced week 7 of the Craig Stupidity Watch with nothing to report. Rather than drink alone Open Wide sacrificed her mom, Barb, to the Gypsies and it was when one drinks they all drink time. Announcing that she had no intimate body parts left to show Barb charmed the crowd with a joke that even made Camel Blower blush and entertain some May-December thoughts of his own. While the pack was drinking Whine & Chowder Society wankerette Ultra Head was finishing her *un around the lake proving that you can have an Ultra Head and a mini mind. W & C mainstay Beastie Boy would have been given a down-down but as hashing’s answer to stealth technology no one noticed him. Virgin Roy was called up and admitted that Dickless made him cum then flaunted what he claimed was a body part for the bimbos. Dick Chick dropping to her knees pronounced it of no interest to any woman still breathing. Virgin Moira collapsed to the tarmac and held her breath till she turned purple but to no avail since Roy was too toasted to notice. The same could not be said for a late arriving Fucking Pesto Chicken and an on time and horny LCB. Believing both in necrophilia and waste not want not they carted the barely conscious bim into the night. Soggy Biscuit of the W & C S put so much of the Bucket into himself that it became clear how he’d earned his name. Some of the alcohol was absorbed by the cake Fits In had provided for the dual Bday of Open Wide and Dickless. I R Stupid tossed one back because he’d actually stayed on trail leading McTaco to wonder if his name was still accurate. Several cups later I R wrapped his arms around Elliot and asked for his paw in marriage assuring McTaco that all was still right with the world. As the alcohol level of the Bucket decreased and the alcohol level of their blood increased it was clear that the pack needed to move on to fresh supplies. The Fool called for a health to be drunk to the King, Wankers Island drank his from a prone position, and the move to the Boathouse was made. Dickless in his finite wisdom had provided a number of songbooks to the crowd and soon the rafters were ringing to the sound of Gypsy voices. Throbbing Vessel’s voice was in especially fine fettle leading Gets It In The End to opine to Fits In that when they got home he’d spend the night singing to the sofa then brightening up she said Leo would keep the bed warmer anyway. Fitz made the mistake of asking Scabass Fagot and Handjob For Humanity to explain their names. By the time they finished his eyes were as glazed as an expensive piece of china. When last seen Phone Sex was leaving with the King in tow. Could a Queen be in the cards? *un: fucked up beyond all recognition. Evening: grand. Cheers.