Run #1487 ABBAA and the Dinosaur

Lois Lame and Bitches Bitch chose to honor that man with no honor to speak of, Tongueless, on the occasion of his upcoming 3 quarters of a century BDay and they picked Milf Valley so the ancient one and Fits In wouldn’t have so far to cum. It’s more than fitting that our hares picked the Recreation House Cabin on Tennessee Valley Rd. since AA meetings are held there and it’s across the road from a cemetery, you know just in case. Speaking of the BDay boy the Outbeer arrived with what the pack was really there for a keg of Lagunitas Unrefined Sugar with a healthy 10% ABV. Hand Pump made sure that at least one of the clowns from out of town came over the bridge arriving with Fucking In Tents from Albuquerque as well as that local clown Blow Queen and that Dancing Queen, ABBAA, who had a promise to fulfill. In the competition for Clown Car of the Year, Manhole is betting on Adopt A Pussy, thinking a lawyer is probably a bigger clown than another software guy! Of course, he could be putting his money on the wrong profession since Wash This Asshole is pretty clownish. Improper Cleanse a visitor from Salt Lake CityH3 was wearing his kilt pretty much guaranteeing that he’d freeze his balls off since the temp was in the 30s. In an attempt to raise the temp Improper Cleanse took the Male Missal in hand, and with T providing light preached a sermon that had Just Mark choking on his dried seaweed. JM was being punished for bringing health food to the home of Vitamin J, sugar, salt, fat and the Sacred Bucket. On that note our hares sent the pack off in search of the Anal Quest, alcohol, what you expected sodas, stashed on trail. They pointed out that the solution to the quest would require much climbing and the consumption of the alcohol could guarantee a quicker trip down. That promise of a quicker trip down was music to Piggy Style’s ears although he may have been misinterpreting its meaning. Peteophile had no trouble interpreting what was in his best interest so he proclaimed his allegiance to the Lost Patrol! Off set the questers and off went the LP and oddly enough in the same direction! On All 4s, a natural leader, led but she allowed that T and FI might have local knowledge to combine with their natural laziness. For the most part the halt, lame, and disinclined to exercise stayed together pretty well. BB and LL’s concern was that trail might have been excised by local “Karens” who feared the white powder of death, no not cocaine, flour. The cognoscenti were off circle jerking until Missed Delivery and Tonya Hard On took the early lead at the first check. Then the trail turned uphill with serious intent. Speaking of intent Fucking In Tents had a headlamp failure and was saved by Blow Queen who carries enough headlamps to open a store. The boys in the band were happy to have Tonya Hard On finding the falsity of more than a few false trails. Once the Anal Quest had been solved the down go was in fact easier since it was more or less a controlled fall. Eventually all were reunited and after checking for broken bones and contusions the keg was tapped and the picnic table was covered with Vitamin J and the Sacred Thermi filled with hot cider and spiced rum. Our hares had promised food and Butt Plug Fred did an enviable impersonation of Pied Piper by bringing a grill that eventually the intellectuals in the pack were able to assemble. Our hares set to grilling hot dogs both meat ones and veggie something or others. They also had the buns and requisite fixings. One Night Only our Lady of Flour and Sugar had baked chocolate chip waffles and a BDay cake that had so much sugar and butter that she was awarded a Medal of Honor by both the American Dental Association and the American Medical Association. Eventually with their bellies full and minds clouded the pack who hadn’t fled in terror at the thought, yes, Cuming Mutha and OA4s, along with Dr. Kimble and MD and THO were lacking the courage to face the naked push-ups by T that are traditional. Hand Pump is made of sterner stuff. 5150 with his medical background brought a defibrillator just in case. What T and his cohort ABBAA needed was de-icer! It was so cold that T could barely get his shoes off. ABBAA at least could wrap himself in his long blonde locks. ABBAA was complaining that the cold was causing shrinkage while T has nothing left to shrink. The boys assumed perfect push-up position and with the pack too drunk to maintain a count cranked out a dozen! Eventually they were reclad and T took up the Sword Of Power and convened a Circle that made even less sense than usual. Hopefully Jack The Ripper’s eyesight will return although his mind’s eye will always remind him what he saw. Cheers.