Run #465 A Bridge Too Near

Last Thursday was a night of lessons for our hare Nutless Sac. The first lesson was one of semantics; just what does “The trail goes under the bridge” really mean. The second lesson was one of arrows; they can prevent the pack from going in the wrong direction from the very start. But these were lessons yet to be learned. Back at the start the evening’s religious experience was provided by Bitches’ Bitch a lanky lad whose name made him the closest thing to a virgin bimbo in sight. The Sacred Missal proved more than he could safely handle for as the parable heated up so did he. By the end of the service his shorts looked like Pinocchio had taken up residence and Scarlett O’Hairy and Just Julie were busy betting on just how long his “nose” was going to grow. Dick Chick was looking at him like the wolf looked at Little Red Riding Hood and she wasn’t thinking “My what big eyes you have” but her mind was on things that looked good enough or at least big enough to eat. Once the assorted female eyes had been popped back into their heads it was time to be on-on. Nutless told the pack that the trail “goes under the bridge” and with a cavalier wave of his hand turned his attention to Just Carolyn, Beats Me, and Bigfoot who were planning on walking the trail and were offering blowjobs for shortcuts to the beer check. As Beats Me said “Better five seconds on your knees than five minutes on your feet.” While his attention was focused on more lascivious matters the pack not putting too fine an interpretation on his directions crossed under the available bridge and finding trail was off in hot pursuit of alcohol. Without arrows to give them any idea of the direction they were going unfortunately they were on the on-in trail. Our hare upon seeing the error of the pack jumped into his truck and made a valiant effort to herd the pack onto true trail but he forgot that trying to pull the pack together is like trying to herd cats. In the blink of an eye the whole had dissolved into less than the sum of its parts and a multitude of minipacks was born. Fits In, Whippet In, Whippet Out, and Tongueless along with Drill Me, Bite Size, and Cowlick were one such pack. Cowlick and Shaft appeared out of the mists of time he to regain his youth and her to assure that he didn’t regain the wrong parts of it. Following trail backwards into the Presidio they came upon LCB who moaned and cried complaining that he didn’t think being the FRB by *unning the trail backwards would mean he won the hash. Drill Me fainted from laughter and only the effect of multiple dog breathes and a quick splash of pee from Tongueless brought her back to her senses. Next our wanderers crossed paths with a lone Shithead who with the approach of the Big 50 on his mind was indulging in an early senior moment and *unning in a direction that totally lacked flour. By now Comes Slowly was so desperately in need of some red red wine that she gave up the ghost and headed for the nearest corkscrew. D’anglin Anglin was sighted at the gate at the top of the Lyon Street steps and he found, hard to believe, trail leading to a beer near mark pointing back to the spot from whence he’d cum. Dick Chick using half mind logic decided that Nutless knowing the pack was *unning backwards would put the beer check elsewhere and she and D’anglin were soon off chasing their respective tails. Wiser and lazier heads predicted that our hare would appear at this spot and appear he did. Ben Gay was ready for a drink by this time as he announced that *unning backward gave him a headache that he felt only a hangover could justify. Seeing how much of the beer check Shiner’s Bock he downed Bone Marrow let it be known that she would be the one with the headache later. While the few drank for the many some headed on-in with thoughts of real alcohol dancing in their heads. 5150 was spotted hauling ass up Lyon no marks in sight but his nose twitching to the scent of beer. Back at the start the Sacred Bucket was filled with Mai-Tais and all the furniture assembled allowing the bar to be declared open and serving. Dr. Kimble was soon swaying gently to the inner music of mai-taiworld and its kinder gentler reality. Thumper no stranger himself to that inner music found himself swaying in tandem with the good Dr. Lucky for them that Bag Lady wasn’t around. No sooner did Dickless Namehole arrive at the Bucket than he was legless as well. The sight of Dickless lying semi comatose in a pool of his Chinese lunch was too much of a reminder of her own Mai-Tai follies for Spanky who without so much as a drink became ill and left. It was a night for hashers to return from the Beyond; Yukon Jackoff and Hotflash lost lo these many years in the wasteland of suburbia suddenly appeared and with a tot, Dylan, in tow. Happily they’ve not lost their ability to consume beverages and Dylan is obviously one of the few children to learn to drive before he was potty trained. Tits 4 Hire was so taken by his ability as well as his big blue eyes that after a few cups of punch she was asking Dylan to dinner and apparently took his manly gurgles as ascent. My, isn’t she in for a surprise when she sobers up. Just Doesn’t Get It lived up to his name when he told her he thought they made a handsome couple. His dog Bella may be small but she certainly acted like she’d be able to make a quick meal of Bigfoot. Talk about biting off more than you can chew. With the King in San Diego Enter The Gerbil returned to his roll of Fool and ably assisted by Bigfoot as backup fool distributed down-downs. Six Million Won Man received one for finally leaving the Army behind although the way he’s been boffing bimbos a war may still be in his future. Just Jim got a neo-Nazi down-down for having hashed in Buenos Aires; a few Mai-Tais and Gerbil is veeery creative. Handjob For Humanity was called for a down-down but she’d already done so many personal ones that even Muff Snatcher attempting to live up to his name couldn’t raise her. I R Stupid offered to give it a try but Phone Sex intervened before his shorts were halfway down. It was Tongueless’ natal day and he was properly down-downed for hitting the double nickel or as he likes to say achieving the speed limit. While all this was happening Open Wide brought her friend Just Jenny who sadly almost died from choking so hard when Likes To Lick mentioned that OW was low maintenance. “Low maintenance, low maintenance” she managed to gasp “back home most men thought she needed a motor pool of her own.” An on-on-on of sorts may have taken place at the Fox and Fiddle but no one can be sure. So endeth the lessons. Cheers.