Run #484 …And Bigfoot got the Eggplant

The Fat Man and the Cripple were at it again last Thursday as Tongueless and Nutless Sac took the occasion of Fits In’s natal day to once again torment the Gypsies. In vain hopes of seeing the sun shine they called the pack to order at the parking lot at Ft. Baker in Sausalito. The usual riff-raff with no lives outside of hashing gathered to celebrate yet another Thursday with nothing better to do. Pump Fake in a bid to curry favor with the Hashing Gods sacrificed Just Beth a sweet young thing from Michigan to the slavering lust of the Gypsies. Her face red enough to be used to paint a fire engine Just Beth gave the reading from the Sacred Missal enough emphasis to show that while she may not like to use certain words she clearly understood their meaning. Her reading was meaningful enough to resurrect Dead Dick and remind Just Doesn’t Get It what he’s been missing. Note: ask him to show you the trick he’s taught Napoleon Boner Dog involving the liver paste. Promising a vodka check for the needy our hares sent the pack off to play. The first check was enough to reduce the pack to its usual level of headless chickenness. True trail was finally found and the pack set off around the shore to cum up under the bridge where overzealous CHPers probably mistook them for a band of suicidal terrorists until they heard the cries of “on-on”. Trail took the pack up the Coastal Trail where like Irvine and Mallory on Everest they disappeared into the fog. As the pack popped out on the ridge at the top they were met with a blast of air that left them feeling like a model in the Boeing wind tunnel. For the first time in his life King Rongjon was glad to be a fat bastard as the likes of LCB wafted past. Lois Lame was so terrified that she begged D’anglin Anglin to hump her as a way to stay nailed down. Open Wide and Likes To Lick were foolish enough to take a Tongueless suggested short cut and heading into the wind spent the rest of the evening floating gently over the Headlands like a pair of barrage balloons. Phone Sex arriving late and starting the trail well behind the pack saw them floating in the distance and remembered that she’d rather drink than *un. Deciding that she’d prefer surviving for another Bday rather than continuing on the trail Fits In turned Whippet In and Whippet Out back down the trail and headed for the alcohol. Days later she was still nursing the blisters on her hand from Whippet In trying desperately to follow the pack. Speaking of hounds, while Just Guy was dicing with hypothermia an injured and non-*unning Libby was busy ingesting the cockpit of his Beemer. Lost in the fog and wind the half-minds headed on. The hares and Bigfoot, who’d cleverly managed to forget her *unning shoes, were waiting for the pack at the base of the ridge with a large bottle of citrus vodka. Nutless and Bigfoot suffering from the cold found that nipping at the supplies not only warmed them but helped pass the time. Two young and cumly civilians wandered off the road and soon a party was in full swing and the pack forgotten. The pack followed trail to the end of the cliff and then found itself bushwacking back to the road as best it could. Go Nad was the first down by following the simple expedient of lying on his back and sliding downhill. Apparently he chose to go head first secure in the knowledge that hitting his head wouldn’t damage anything vital. The hares suddenly found their supply of vodka being seriously depleted by those toasting their own survival. Dr. Kimble chose not to drink feeling his survival was still in doubt. Having lived up to his name on several portions of the trail Splat chose to forego the vodka and taking no more steps than necessary go directly to the anesthetizing properties of the Sacred Bucket. Drill Me and Bite Size were alone so long in the fog that by the time they finally got down there’d been quite a bit of eyeing each other and wondering how long the meat supply would last. Careening down the hill Pull It Out from the PortlandH3 was just behind Mossy Patch hoping to use the out of control rush as an excuse to shove it in but she kept just a head of his little head. Not that he was nervous about the down go but Stool Sample left a number of his namesakes along the hillside. Eventually even the DFLers were back and the serious portion of the evening begun. The Sacred Bucket was filled with vodka tonic and fresh limes and lemons (part of those five servings of fruits and vegetables everyone needs). Manhandler who’d made a sore tendon even more sore was being tended to by 3 Ball J in the back of a truck and not wanting her to have to travel far from the cooler the piss came to her. Bottles were soon flying out of the truck bed like fireworks on the Fourth and from the howling it was clear that Manhandler was living up to her name. Between nips from the bottle and cups from the Bucket Bigfoot was soon in fine fettle, she was as happy as her hapi coat. First she was busy flaunting her farmers’ market find an eggplant shaped like Enter The Gerbil’s penis and balls only bigger. From there it didn’t take her long to become intensely involved with a blowup Jaegermeister shark. With said shark firmly clamped between her thighs she cruised the waters of the pack giving a whole new and frightening meaning to Jaws. Without warning Tongueless was savagely attacked from the rear. As he squirmed with panic and delight Strap On from PhillyH3 sandwiched him from the front going down on the shark’s snout. Yes, there is a Heaven and Tongueless was there. Rumor has it that Just Mark was busy smearing anchovy paste on his member in a vain attempt to attract the shark’s attention. Saucer eyed Dr. Kimble was breathing hard and downing vodka as Bag Lady half in the Bucket decided to reenact the action sans shark…well you can imagine the snout substitute she found. Scarlett O’Hairy, never one to pass up a challenge, announced “what a chick from Philly can do Scarlett can do” and proved it to Just John. One look at the shark and Naked Hasher was long gone. The King intervened and brought a semblance of circle to order where he immortalized Fits In in verse as the pack wolfed down her BDay cookies. He also found time to induct Just Vincent into the Order of the Sleepless Knights. Just V knelt a commoner and tapped by the Sword Of Power arose as Mr. Bone Jangles in honor of his dancing ability. While Just Guy was soliciting Dick Chick she was interested in, and we quote, “that boy from Iowa that is oh-so-cute…he's got the nicest eyes.” So you know who you are let’s see you go for it. The Sacred Bucket was at its best laying out hashers left and right. Escrowtum a Whine and Chowder Society blonde and her equally blonde sister Goes Down Easy made a soft landing spot for = My Cock2 from Everyday is WednesdayH3 when the Bucket pole axed him. The action moved to Dario’s pizza where Enter The Gerbil finally zipped Bigfoot into the body bag and took her home for a decent burial. was a close second as his squeeze Esther, who’d been desperately awaiting his arrival, Nutless Sac dragged him across the parking lot by the least sensitive part (much to her chagrin) of his anatomy. If you can’t do the time don’t do the crime. Cheers.