Run #479 Birthdays, Bimbos, and Super Novas

Only the Gypsies could bring together tits, handjobs, and astronomy. Honoring herself, who better, Tits 4 Hire ably assisted by Handjob For Humanity brought the Gypsies together at the Costco on 10^th and Harrison for a few lessons in Jell-O shooting, Yucca drinking, and how to be fucked by a super nova. Alcohol and astronomy a chance to be drunk and educated at the same time, who could ask for anything more. Tits instantly assumed control of the situation by using her Costco card as a bathroom pass, “be nice or you can’t pee.” No one has ever seen D’anglin Anglin be nicer. Nervous shoppers tried to steer clear of the odd and raucous bunch blocking the sidewalk. Hounds from Hell Whippet In and Whippet Out were in their mighty hunter mode. Every time a choice bit of meat was wheeled by their howls froze the blood of the poor civilian pushing past. No bit of pizza or errant cheese doodle was safe. Two legged pieces were howled at by Sucks Donnie Osmond and Just John but the dogs got more positive attention. Naked Hasher made out the best as while sitting on the steps several do gooders dropped coins into his lap. Religion was handled by the Bday girl herself. Tits read the Sacred Missal with such feeling that Udder Moron was seen taking himself in hand for a quick milking. Before the pack could start the hares provided a chalk talk that sent a shudder of fear through the assembled throng. Not satisfied with the normal marks that prove confusing enough to half-minds the ladies of the evening had to insert such new mind bogglers as a “tits check” only to be solved by bimbos or by lads once a bim has deemed them worthy of a flash (translation, none of these checks will ever be solved), “ybn” (translation, you’ve been fucked…what a surprise), and “super nova check” (translation, the check can go in any direction; real translation, you’ve been fucked). With all this potential for getting fucked the pack was raring to go. The first bit of trail was well marked as the hares led the pack through the parking garage at Costco. Reality set in at the next corner where the pack stood around with its collective thumb up the ass nodding and drooling as those foolish enough to think it was possible searched for trail. The day was temporarily saved by Handjob flashing by in a truck and pointing the pack in what she claimed was the right direction. It did prove to be the right direction for about 30 feet. The pack then found itself facing the dreaded super nova check. Hounds took off in every direction of the compass rose and came back from said directions. Scrotum, Napoleonic Complex in full flower, swore eternal vengeance on hares with the temerity to set a trail that HE found confusing. Splat did little to calm the situation by pointing out that a bigger dick and a smaller ego would serve him better. By now a substantial portion of the pack led by King Rongjon and his limp legged toady Nutless Sac had concluded that drunkenness was the better part of valor and headed off to the nearest saloon. True trail was eventually discovered by Just Doesn’t Get It whose mind apparently functions like Handjob’s. Now there’s a scary thought. Trail led across train tracks and through parking lots into areas that while craving gentrification have yet to erase the eau d’urine from the air. At this point Thumper caught up with the pack and letting his nose lead the way got lost. When last seen he’d joined a throng of homeless in a drunken sing along and was adding his scent to that of the locals. Eventually trail led those hardy souls still on it to a small park where our hares provided the vodka rich elixir Yucca Dew. Between the alcohol and sugar content it’s possible to be drunk and in a diabetic coma. Having downed a substantial amount of the elixir Poops In The Pool and Just Christopher a pair of Whine & Chowder Society devotees wobbled over to a nearby driving range but Poops found Just Christopher’s driver to small to get much distance. Drunk as they were they were able to get his driver back in the bag before the police arrived. The hares had promised a ride to the hip handicapped Open Wide but in their zeal to get to the Jell-O check abandoned her to the tender mercies of Tongueless and Fits In. Tongueless by now bored by the trail tried to sell OW to a roving band of youths to raise cab fare back to the start. The intercession of OW’s beau ideal Likes To Lick prevented Tongueless from getting a free ride and OW from getting a ride of a different sort. As Licks To Lick carried off his lady fair the remaining pack trudged over Potrero Hill to yet another windswept park and the promised Jell-O. Science was served when McTaco made the startling discovery that cramming enough vodka filled Jell-O down your throat can almost make you forget the cashectomy your ex is performing. From here the trail on-in was as straight as Rhett Butthole claims to be. The table was procured and the Sacred Bucket filled with Lemonade rich vodka and fresh lemons and the pack proceeded to get properly spiffed. As the sun began to set along with the likes of The Ripper, who found a comfortable curbstone for a pillow, Pump Fake found himself as the only thing to cum between At Your Cervix and Yack In the Box’s living up to his name. Manly man that he is Pump took the full force of Yack’s yack. Looking at the now colorful and odiferous lad Dick Chick could only giggle and say that he reminded her of something Bigfoot once had on the end of her tongue after chewing, a close inspection by Enter The Gerbil confirmed her call. Drill Me could barely keep Bite Size from dining on his drippings. Poor Drill Me was reduced to pointing out to Bite Size that it wasn’t even her own vomit. Clearly auditioning for the part of a mad scientist’s malignant dwarf Scrotum was off defiling Mr. Poopy Pants’ personal chalice and currying favor with assorted homeless. What DUI and Itch My Rod two more Whine & Chowder Society wanker were caught doing with the chalice is condemned even by Satanists. Not that 5150 was drunk but when last seen he was actually drinking from the chalice. Humanitarians that they are Meat Pie and No Hands stayed with him should he need immediate hospitalization. I R Stupid was a late arrival and still wearing a cast by evening’s end the cast had moved from his foot to his head but not to worry there was no stress on his foot as he was doing the leopard crawl and complaining about going blind. As usual Twinkle Dick was more lit than the Embarcadero at Christmas. As the Bucket drained the pack moved on to wreak havoc at ZaSpot for pizza and piss. We await the alignment of the next heavenly bodies. Cheers