Run #425 A Handjob for Snakeless
No
civilization as we know it did not cum to an end last Thursday. The
only handjob Snakeless got was self-administered (as always).
But Snakeless was all over Handjob For Humanity
one of the hares. Der Chalk Fuhrer was incensed that no chalk appears
to have been used on the trail. Apparently when combined with a
bizarre North Carolina TrashH3 mark this caused his weary old legs to
carry him some extra distance and his ire was raised. If only women
gave him as much of a hard on as being lost he’d not be suffering
from testosterone poisoning. It was just a matter of time before
Shaggy Dog stopped fulfilling his needs. Master
Snakeless chose the pixiesque Handjob as his victim
rather than her cohare Scabass Faggot apparently
fearing that SCAF might live up to his name. The pack that
gathered in the parking lot at the old Letterman Army Hospital was
treated to a spectacular example of speaking in tongues as the
evening’s minister Barbie Boxx assumed the role of
all three characters of the parable from the Sacred Missal,
with appropriate voices. With so many women to cum home to is it any
wonder that Roadkill bolted for the barn as soon as he was
on-in. Trail took the pack through the Presidio and into the
cemetery. No one is saying that he’s into necrophilia but Chickless
Boner seemed awfully at home in the surroundings. Hung
Juror swears he saw him rubbing up against tombstones. This is
where T/BC and Fits In lost the pack. It took
Fits In, Whippet In, and Whippet
Out so long to haul T/BC’s enormous dead weight over
the wall that by the time the Herculean task was completed the pack
was long gone. Not that it mattered since this was apparently the
point where Snakeless became perturbed and no sane person (not
many crazies for that matter) wants to be around him when he’s
feeling annoyed. The trail looped through the woods providing many
chances to acquire or reacquire a dose of p o eventually returning
to the cemetery. Were the hares trying to tell us something? Happily
our return was greeted by a bottle of vodka and various flavors of
Gatorade allowing the pack to be both fit and fucked. Just Bob,
choosing to be fit, used the vodka to sterilize the wounds he’d
acquired on trail. Bitch In Heat believing,
choosing to be fucked, was busy catching the drips, giving a whole
new meaning to Bloody Mary. By this point Comes Slowly
had already abandoned trail and headed home to scourge herself and
Sadie with Technu. The rest of the pack headed for home and
the Sacred Bucket. Well, not Naked Hasher
he still had to stay lost for awhile and get cold enough to justify
leaving before the circle. The Sacred Bucket was filled
with vodka, cognac, and lemonade guaranteed to go down easy then hit
back hard. Snakeless took the time to get in Handjob’s
face, which required him to be on his knees. D’anglin
A’nglin allowed as how that position seemed so natural. It
certainly seemed to make Soggy Biscuit nervous but then
he’s a product of English public schools. That may explain why he
and Just Jeff ended up doing their down-downs in a
mechanical conveyance. Or perhaps the sight of another gent on his
knees brought back such fond memories that Soggy couldn’t
wait to get home. While Just Lois was busy turning blue from
the cold Clothes Horse was encouraging her to enjoy
what passes for beach weather in Scotland, his former home. More cups
of antifreeze from the Bucket were all that Lois really
needed although Nutless Sac did offer to jump into a
sleeping bag with her for a quick rewarming. Lois thanked him
but said she’d prefer Badger, making Drill Me
a tad nervous. With Enter The Gerbil and the King both absent
down-downs were ably administered by Bigfoot. The fears of
having her unleash a sour belch in ones face gives her amazing
control. Deep in the Bucket Dick Chick was
lamenting her bare cupboard and empty bed. Before she could finish a
line of hashers willing to fill the bed had formed on her left.
Surveying the possibilities she sighed that she’d rather have a
full cupboard. Likes To Lick just shook his head
and mumbled that this bunch would be safe in the Castro. Just
Lauren came close to being named but by then no one could even
move their lips to agree. The parade moved to the Final Final where
the hares provided pizza for the pack and tequila shooters were the
order of the night. Morning always cums too early. Cheers.