NOTE: It was brought to your scibe’s attention that he
completely failed to discuss the toe sucking extravaganza that took
place at Handjob and SCAF’s *un. And it came to pass
that T/BC was called forth to judge the merits of Handjob’s
toes versus Dick Chick’s toes. Bigfoot
announced for all to hear that only Gerbil sucks her parts. Gourmet
toe sucker that he is T/BC provided the following review:
Handjob: oakey with a hint of tar between the toes and an
aftertaste of grit.
Dick Chick: smooth and creamy obviously pumiced with a
cherry finish to her big toe.
Run #426 There’s Always Room for Jell-O
The
pack that gathered in front of El Toro Loco in Pacifica last Thursday
night waited with bated breath. Would Wankers Island
and Scarlett O’Hairy have learned from experience or
would this be another evening of “March or die?” Chickless
Boner was once again exhibiting the behavior that leaves his
boner chickless. Just Lauren having promised favors for a ride
was solicited by Chickless but when push came to shove he left
her dry and wanting. She came by herself. With no hares in sight and
only a cryptic message about what not to expect, clearly false, the
pack turned to religion for solace. Newboot Nick handled the
Sacred Missal with aplomb. Rock steady, as well as
hard, he gave a gender bending sermon that left Sticky Pants
with...well, sticky pants. No hares were apparent but a sign had been
given and the pack was off only to be met with an eagle/turkey split
at the very start. The eagles soared and the turkeys trotted. Not so
strangely there was more trotting than soaring. Trail led through a
schoolyard up steps and into the land of stubble, ticks, and poison
oak. It also went uphill and then uphill again. There are those who
hash with their feet and those who hash with their heads. Bigfoot
and Enter The Gerbil have one of each in their
family so while ETG was busy slogging up the hill Bigfoot
was off with T/BC, Fits In, and Comes
Slowly following the fire road around the mountain. With
Whippet In and Whippet Out sniffing for
flour the thinking hashers were soon on the downside of the trail and
romping into the promised Jell-O shots. They were soon joined by I
R Stupid who proved to be not nearly as dumb as he looks, not
that anyone could be. Those who chose exercise over intellect made it
to the summit to be met with some Anheuser-Busch faux beer and adding
insult to exertion it was the lite variety. True those few, those
sweaty fools also received some plastic beads for their effort.
D’anglin A’nglin suggested that they be used to
lynch the hares for alcohol abuse, Anheuser-Busch indeed. While the
foot sore pack was swigging swill the fire road brigade was face down
in green and orange Jell-O sucking up vodka and preparing for the
journey home. Guilty and burning with courage fueled by vodka Comes
Slowly chose to fly like an eagle on the eagle/turkey split
that graced the end of the trail while her fellow turkeys chose to
trot on-in. Having not just shortcut but veritably massacred the
trail our bravos found themselves waiting for D’anglin
A’nglin to appear with the keys to his van and the alcohol.
Once again the Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber of the Gypsies,
D’anglin A’nglin and Nutless Sac, had
locked the piss in a truck that no one but Houdini could have
entered. How sad, the SCBs were forced to plunge their faces into yet
more vodkaized Jell-0, red this time. At long last the
Anheuser-Buschies were back and serious drinking begun. The hares in
keeping with their tradition filled the Sacred Bucket
with Hurricanes and watched as the pack got blown away. Having given
the pack enough time for the dust to settle and throats to be
moistened our hares whisked the pack into El Toro Loco where Jose
had once more provided a meal of Jambalaya and corn bread. Adam,
some vague sort of family member and just 18 ably assisted Jose. The
Bucket soon took its toll on Adam and he was puking
with the best of them. How sad to see Open Wide and
Dick Chick fighting over the body. Only Dickless
Namehole’s quick intervention prevented mascara shed. Meat
Pie and Comes Slowly were busy in the corner
putting away enough red wine to make them honorary bag ladies.
Down-downs were performed in the restaurant and Jose assured
the hares that insurance would cover that portion of the floor eaten
away by spillage of the cursed potions. Enter The
Gerbil was in a particularly drunken mood and Just Nick
found himself being turned into a sobriety check poster child. In
honor of the *un theme King Rongjon held the floor with
a rendition of Clint Meets the Gay Caballero that rocked the
restaurant. By this time Open Wide was desperately trying to
pull the pants off a life size cardboard caballero cutout and Dick
Chick and Sticky Pants were betting she’d do
it. The Grim Rimmer was back and suddenly women were
finding Chickless Boner minimally less disgusting. Just
Lauren was busy shilling for breast cancer research but still
refusing to bare hers for science. If Gerbil had given her
anymore down-downs she’d have been embalmed. Uncle Fucker
was ultra cool face down in his Jamabalaya making burbling noises.
Alison saved him by hauling him out of the plate by his hair.
Bigfoot led the chants to drop him back in. Wankers and
Scarlett, Bill Cosby would be proud. Cheers.