Run #497 Mr. Bone Jangles Walks the Line

It’s axiomatic that it only takes half a mind to hash but last week proved that even that minimal amount isn’t necessary to hare. Mr. Bone Jangles along with his wheelman Just Nigel, who insisted under interrogation that “I had nothing to do with it. It was all his fucking idea. I just drove” proved once again that the shortest distance between two points and the most boring is a straight line. Pied Piper was, of course, not there. Not satisfied with just his usual alibi he brought not just Katie the Lab, and Zack his son, but some neighbor child all to swear to Cold Cuts that he only took them out play and went nowhere near the Gypsies. As the pack gathered Mossy Patch was busy trolling for sex as usual. Not satisfied with what she’s netted so far she was busy enticing Whippet In and Whippet Out with promises of some of her chicken. If she thinks bestiality is best she should talk to Napoleon Bonerdog about her experiences with Just Doesn’t Get It and try to see if from the beast’s point of view. Having just been told that wearing earrings in both ears qualifies him for a gay wannabe it seemed only fitting that Oral Roberts, EBH3, should bone up (no pun intended…yeah right) on the lifestyle by reading from the less traditional Male Missal. The way Oral took to the book his bud Just Steve was clearly thinking about riding in some other car on the way home. With religion taken care of the pack was on-on down Marina Blvd. Turning south the pack was faced with its first check. Clearly our hare was not only frightened by a ruler but a calendar as well. Unable to tell what day it was the check was marked with the initials of the Whine & Chowder Society causing the pack to wonder if it was a check left over from their trail on Monday. The affects of too much *unning and not enough drinking were showing on Naked Hasher as he announced that he couldn’t remember if that was a check he’d laid while haring on Monday. The check was eventually solved and the pack turned west towards Crissy Field. The trail was well marked but marking wasn’t a problem since it just went straight. The hare insists that there were some brilliant false trails but Just Sean chalks that belief up to the DTs. Son Of Shit did aver that the trail was bad enough to be a Whine & Chowder special and swore to lure Mr. BJ into setting one. Tongueless was so depressed by the state of the trail that even the bouncy bimbos of the Marina couldn’t distract him. Desperately wanting to believe that the hare was just luring the pack on before driving them into the hills of the Presidio he plodded on. Drill Me and Fits In a more cynical pair just traded proposals for the most painful disposition of the hare when they found him. Bite Size loomed large in their bloodier fantasies. Hunting the hare proved a strong enough desire to keep them moving forward. Just steps away from having to swim the trail finally turned up into the Presidio where the stalwarts were met by Mr. BJ and Just Nigel. As the hare approached Tongueless was his usual tact filled self. Only Escrowtum’s not too daintily applied full nelson prevented him from actually strangling the hare. Desperate for a shot at redemption Mr. BJ and Just Nigel produced a mobile bar and began plying the disenchanted with Kamikazes. Speaking of Kamikazes one can only wonder what that passing Park Ranger thought when Fuck Me, Father threw himself on the hood of his squad car. Luck for FMF that the cop likes dogs and Fucking Shut Up was looking so cute. One wonders just how often she’s saved FMF from jail. Alcohol was addling many a brain by this point as D’anglin Anglin took exception to FMF’s attack on the officer feeling that assaulting minions of the law has always been his province. If Phone Sex and Cream Filled Buns hadn’t chosen that moment to flash the carnage would have been awful. Like the hare there were some on trail who lacked even half a mind. Thurston Bowel The Turd found himself lost but that being his usual state he remained unconcerned until he realized how long he’d been without booze. Happily before the panic had a real chance to take hold he found trail. Speaking of lost Scheister Meister visiting from the ToledoH3 (that’s Ohio not Spain) was on trail and lost all evening. The pack eventually returned to the start in the parking lot across from the Marina Safeway and the serious drinking began. The Sacred Bucket was filled with a variation on River Madness and it wasn’t long before the madness took hold of Go Nad and he sallied forth to the Safeway in search of a fair maiden. Manhole and Otto found him hours later in the frozen food section semi conscious and mumbling to himself. Nutless Sac was just back from Goa and thinking it was Wednesday. The Ripper explained the concept of the International Dateline to him and they both seemed happy with the result. Just Esther finally arrived and when last seen she was dragging Nutless to the car while being subjected to his version of the International Dateline lecture. This was all missed by Just John and Just Max who by now were doing a splendid impersonation of speed bumps. Tongueless, a poor substitute for the King and Enter The Gerbil handled down-downs but no one noticed. The hare did exhibit saving grace by using this trail to collect toys and treats for dogs at the SPCA and there were some who produced for him. Those who still had a dry spot headed for the Final Final. On to the 500^th. Cheers.