Run #430 Texas Angels

Thursday last found the Gypsies messing with Texas. Our hares were that long horny Dick Chick, the faggy Aggie Nutless Sac, and No “I took a coffee break in Houston” Hands. Cowboy chic was the fashion of the evening. McTaco claimed that he had spurs that would jingle jangle jingle but had to admit he’d forgotten them the last time he went riding at Bondage A Go Go. Nutless was wearing enough leather to cause hearts to go pity pat in the Castro. Dick Chick in her black velvet (or was that beaver) cowboy hat and torn jeans looked like she’d stepped out of an episode of Dallas. With people like this in charge the pack was clearly in need of some serious bible belting. The evening’s service went terrible awry when our minister de jour Gumballs, seriously slinky Whine & Chowder Society wankerette, accidentally read not the Sacred Missal but T/BC and Enter The Gerbil’s diary of the love that dare not speak its name. The pack was left shaken not stirred by the description of T/BC’s spread cheeks. Fits In swooned and Whippet In and Whippet Out were so shamed that they’ll never lick his balls again. Gerbil seized the offending missive and set it afire. Unfortunately he was still holding it when it went up in flames. As sweat formed on his forehead he grimaced in pain and sneered “Better to be burned this way than be burned by Bigfoot.” A stunned pack could only collectively nod in agreement. Their minds seared by events the pack was more than ready to be on-on. The trail jerked a few circles and then led the pack up every hill known to man. Pied Piper pushing Zack in his stroller earned his name as three neighborhood moppets decided to follow his lead. Unfortunately Molester arrived too late to benefit from Pied Piper’s charisma. Trail crossed the CalTrain tracks where Fits In strongly urged T/BC to lie down and rest awhile. Dick Chick never less than bold had arranged for a beer check at the San Francisco Headquarters of the Hell’s Angels. It was a case of the Filthy Few meeting the filthy few. Everyone got on swimmingly although Drill Me was embarrassed when Badger was spotted dining on one of the Angel’s Pit Bulls. When she then decided to chomp on a bike for dessert the awed Angels convened a meeting and made both Badger and Drill Me honorary members. Naked Hasher, first to the beer check and being semi-clothed as he usually is feared being turned into a sex toy by some older blinder Angel so came and went at the same time. The rest of the pack dawdled over beers and enjoyed the camaraderie that can only be shared by outlaws. Eventually having been on the side of the Angels long enough the pack was finally headed for home. Arriving back at the start they were greeted by Shithead tagging a freeway pillar with his favorite pickup line “Yo, baby, yo.” Fucking Pesto Chicken ever willing to learn and ceaselessly seating for a line that will work was soon repeating it like a mantra. Sadly the only thing he seemed to attract were a few mosquitoes. The hares provided the pack with some of Texas’ finest piss Shiner Bock which when mixed with the River Madness from the Sacred Bucket proved too potent for Handjob For Humanity who was soon filling her ten gallon hat with more than her head. By the time the Bucket was finished with Tiny Limb, Gumballs’ Whine and Chowder wanker, his limb was not only tiny but sawed off. Overindulging in the Bucket a weepy Bigfoot finally forgave Gerbil for his transgressions but not for his taste, “T/BC, puhleeze!” No longer fearing for his life or at least his genitals Gerbil donned his Fools Cap and circled the pack for down-downs. The hares were brought up for their fifteen seconds of fame and Dick Chick unsteady on her broomstick pony decided to mount Nutless Sac but the way he bucked she never came close to staying on for the magic eight seconds. Ultrawimp, DenverH3, got into the Bucket and onto Sammy, lucky for both of them that Meat Pie was there to sound the buzzer. Just Carolyn, who can’t drink, was busy foisting her down-downs off on No Hands who was feeling more and more appreciated with each one he swallowed. King Rongjon, cowboy hat for a crown, waxed poetic for No Hands’ Bday. Two Lips, DenverH3, remarked on how much he looked like the Marlboro Man. Hearing her say that Bitch In Heat inquired about sharing the drugs she must be on. Poor Scarlett O’Hairy got a down-down for having her car confiscated. Well, not actually for it being confiscated but for it being confiscated even after she’d offered “to hum the officer’s favorite tune.” Speaking of hummers LCB was private partying on his cell phone with Lick’er Up in Hawaii. Now he knows that a blowjob by phone is even more worthless than a bj on credit. Just Kevin turned out to be a VP at Bigfoot’s office. It’s unclear who’ll be blackmailing whom. Having sacrificed her mom and sister to the circle Open Wide now tossed her brother John into the pot. Just John took to it like a duck to water and is already hoping to get a King Rongjon Scholarship to study with the master. Those who could still put one foot in front of the other staggered off to the Main Mast, a longshoreman’s bar, for yet more alcohol. Unable to resist Dick Chick’s charms they’d agreed to stay open for the merryment. Classy place, D’anglin Anglin stepped into the john and found a ribbed condom. Classy place, classy guy he immediately slipped it over his tongue. Metal Muff pointed out that it would work better elsewhere. Clearly she doesn’t know D’anglin. All this shot right past Likes To Lick spent his time talking to one of the life-size nude biker babe pics and wondering why she wouldn’t respond. Maybe he needs to talk to Pesto. Rode hard and put away wet, yeeha. Cheers.