Run #472 Another Year Older and Just as Dumb
McTaco
brought the pack together last week behind the Harvey Milk Rec.
Center at Duboce Park the only dog park in SF reserved for gay
hounds. Poor Whippet In and Whippet Out stood tail to
tail and just quaked in fear waiting for the *un to start. Drill
Me became incensed when a frou-frou cut poodle sidled up to
Bite Size and hit on her. McT had called the pack
together in celebration of his Bday. Alcohol and Alzheimer’s have
been so unkind to him that the pack was amazed he even remembered.
Son of Shit was back for the third time in a row. In a
desperate attempt to curry favor he tossed some chum into the shark
pool in the form of sweet young thing Chamber Pot, a
W&CS wankerette. Taking the virgin lass in hand Tongueless
led her forth to the altar where she supplied the Gypsies with a
reading of the Sacred Missal. Grim Rimmer
was so enamored with Chamber Pot that he left a large splash on his
own reading material. Such an effect did this beauty have that
Chickless Boner was heard lamenting that she was still
alive. Once emotions were under control the pack was on-on. Trail
wound along Haight where Rhett Butthole was delayed when he
couldn’t pass up a sale on his controlled substance of choice. So
intense was his secondhand smoke that Just Doesn’t Get It
floated down Haight like a djin in search of a bottle. At Your
Cervix was so overcum by the euphoria being spread by Rhett
that she decided to drop out of the pack and become the Mother Teresa
of Haight Street ministering to the needy. Not much difference really
since the pack is full of the halt and the lame and by evening’s
end the blind. Haight always tends to slow down the pack there are so
many diversions. Naked Hasher spends half his time
handing out candy to all the young female runaways offering them
shelter and a chance to star in his latest Internet ventures. Trail
led into the Panhandle where Boulder Holder was spotted
cruising through the homeless encampments trying to snag a date. Das
Poop offered to squire her around but she told him that she
wasn’t that desperate. Comes Slowly was so appalled
by the behavior of the pack that she tore a brown bag from the hand
of the nearest wino and poured herself into Thunderbird heaven, Sadie
would be driving again. With a beer check to help lubricate them the
pack was soon back in McTaco’s garage to drink to his health
and annoy the neighbors. Expecting a cool night Fits In had
prepared by filling the Sacred Thermos with hot chocolate to
be mixed with an assortment of liver damaging potables. There was
Irish Cream, brandy, Peppermint Schnapps, and coffee liqueur,
something for everyone. Combining the alcohol with chips and salsa
provided the pack with a complete evening’s nutrition. While she
feasted on chips Rocky Mountain Oyster slipped a tot of brandy
into his daughter’s hot chocolate leaving Becca full,
sleepy, and unable to blow the whistle on him no matter how drunk and
disorderly he chose to be. As usual a fair number of Gypsies
chose to forego the rigors of the trail and arrive just in time to
partake of the cocktails. I R Stupid proved smart enough to
take this tack. However he was not smart enough to avoid drinking
himself into oblivion. While SCAF avoided I R S’s
fate he was unable to stop Handjob For Humanity from making
the same mistake making it a certainty that the only handjob he’d
be getting would be self administered. Meat Pie couldn’t
stay since she was headed back to Haight looking for the still
missing Comes Slowly but she made sure she had enough
to fortify herself for the search. Unable to decide which of the
alcohols would best counteract the affects of the sugar in the hot
chocolate Shithead solved the problem drinking some of all of
them. The Ripper was so ripped that Manhandler had to
use a whip and chair to keep him in his place. Never being one to say
no to a drop of punch Glory Hole found himself by end
of evening unable to lift his head out of Spanks For the
Mammaries’ lap while she massaged his brow and softly sang
Kumbya. Likes To Lick was busy trying to convince Open Wide
to get an early start on her red-eye to Minneapolis by playing Mile
High Club in McT’s bathroom. Unfortunately it was already
occupied by D’anglin Anglin and Nutless Sac playing
pin the tail on the….well we don’t even want to go there. Fits
In understanding that a down-down is something to fear not desire
was pouring them for King Rongjon by mixing V8 and brandy
allowing miscreants to get both their alcohol and one of their
prescribed five servings of vegetables. The taste was so vile that
the King found it necessary to use the Sword Of Power
as a means of encouraging evil doers to accept their penance. As he
lay in a pool of down-down vomit Thumper’s vow to go forth
and sin no more seemed very sincere. Having seen Bigfoot do
two down-downs the fear on Enter The Gerbil’s face when she
threatened to belch was real. Only Phone Sex’s quick
thinking in disguising Fit In under a handy burkah (inquiring
minds wonder why McTaco had one so handy) saved her from being
lynched by nauseated criminals. 5150 appeared out of nowhere
at this point having foolishly *un the trail only to injure his ankle
as he stumbled over the EBH3’s comatose Splat. One can only
imagine how drunk Twinkle Dick had to be to mistake
Just Dan for his bicycle but strangely enough Dan
didn’t seem to mind. While all this was going on Eager
Beaver was finding McTaco so eager that he was
premature. Who the hell is Sticky Soles? Getting older
beats the alternative. Cheers.