Run #473 Beware the Intelligent Hare

Woe unto those who think they can shortcut a Shithead trail. That fact was brought home yet again last Thursday as D’anglin Anglin, McTaco, and even the King thought they could think like this hare only to find they would have been better off trying for a mind meld with Grim Rimmer, frightening as that is to contemplate. While the pack enjoyed the freezing wind and cold at the parking lot at the Glen Park Bart Station a virgin or close facsimile was sought to provide the evening’s gospel reading. The closest the pack could cum to a virgin to handle our religious observance was Splat, a sad commentary. When Splat foolishly mentioned that he was a virgin and not just to the Gypsies Scarlett O’Hairy’s entire body perked up. Sacred Missal in hand and blushing at describing things he’d only dreamt of Splat provided the pack with a needed dose of old time religion and himself with food for thought. Feeling somehow cleansed by Splat’s reading the pack was ready to face a Shithead trail. The trail shot through the parking lot and wound its way to Monterey where it turned uphill and became an exercise in pain. The hare and his twisted assistant, everyone’s favorite cripple, Nutless Sac were at every check to savor the agony of dafeet. Nutless took special pleasure in watching Fits In kick and beat Tongueless to get his whining whinging ass up every hill. Even Whippet In and Whippet Out were forced to struggle hauling his enormous hulk along the hare’s idea of a level street. Eventually the trail came to an Eagle/Turkey split and while the Eagles gained altitude and sang Nearer My God to Thee the Turkeys gobbled and groveled their way toward a beer check. The Eagles had enough altitude gain to give Likes To Lick a nose bleed. Open Wide’s only question was “Is it your time of month?” Both sets of half-minds were finally reunited at City College where the hare and his major dumo cackled gleefully as the pack slowly sank into hypothermia while trying to solve a check. Naked Hasher looking like an anorexic Rambo was clearly suffering from the cold as he *an off in search of a trail that existed only in his own mind. So lost was the pack that At Your Cervix was offering her cervix to anyone who could point her towards home. Comes Slowly, icicles forming in the drool from her lips desperate to get back to Sadie and her red wine, finally solved the check and sent the pack on towards beer. While all this was going on the lost patrol of McTaco, D’anglin and King Rongjon were kneeling at the cross on Mt. Davidson and pleading for a sign of trail. Most of the pack was still moving just to keep warm when the beer check was achieved. In a desperate attempt to have his cake and eat it too Scrotum burned his shorts to keep himself warm while he slurped his icy brew. Only Rhett Butthole noticed that Scrotum was now clothed in a Monica’s Own thong but he was quick to point it out to the pack. Not that it probably means anything but Just Dan spent the rest of the trail hot on Scrotum’s heels and Scrotum spent the rest of the trail *unning as fast as he could. From the beer check it was a straight shot back to the start and the Sacred Bucket. It hadn’t gotten any warmer while the pack was out but Pied Piper didn’t mind saying it wasn’t as frigid as his wife. It wasn’t long before the antifreeze from the Mai-Tais in the Sacred Bucket was coursing through their veins and the pack was warming up. Bag Lady was so concerned about Dr. Kimble still being out on trail that she drowned her sorrows in the comfort of the Bucket. When he finally arrived Dr. K found her so far gone that he tied her to the hood of his car rather than risk damage to the interior. Bigfoot was so thrilled to have gotten a clean bill of health that she proceeded to fry her liver. Enter The Gerbil was toasted enough to take her seriously when she sent him off to get onions and bacon to go with it. Handjob For Humanity was hoping SCAF would be there to keep her warm but even without him things heated up when Jackoff arrived. Grim Rimmer returned from trail with a trophy the box from a porn movie that clearly stared Rhett who was clearly visible in a picture on the front. Just Doesn’t Get It still doesn’t get it. He arrived with Bella unleashed and she promptly tried to make a meal of Sammy. Meat Pie quickly kicked her for two points and No Hands dribbled her back to Just Doesn’t for good measure. Lucky for Bella that she didn’t try to go after Bite Size who was just waiting to bitch slap her and turn her into a tasty snack. Not that it would have been possible if Drill Me hadn’t gotten so soused that she ended up wearing the muzzle. Beats Me was busy haranguing Twinkle Dick about the dangers of the Bucket when those Mai-Tais turned her into a living example. Not that Twink was in any condition to hear her. Speaking of Twink he keeps promising to prove to Bigfoot that his name is Twinkle not Wrinkle Dick but he’s never sober enough to use the steam iron. Phone Sex and 5150 arrived late enough to miss the exercise but early enough to exercise their right to get soused. The King safely back from Mt. Davidson administered down-downs and the pack continued ravaging the Bucket and Cooler until there was nothing left to pillage then like the marauding nomads they are moved on to a local pizza place to continue their destruction. A mind is a wonderful thing to get wasted. Cheers.