Run #1360 Stowe It!
Who’s
Your Daddy wanted some Lagunitas DogTown Pale Ale
so he laid a trail for the Gypsies knowing that he would
be getting a Sacred Cooler full of the stuff. Perv that he is
WYD called the pack to order at the Boathouse at Stowe Lake in
Golden Gate Park hoping that he’s be able to toss back a few
bottles and ogle high school honeys that might be there for a Prom
time party. Well WYD was disappointed in one respect and it
wasn’t the piss. Our hare was hardly disappointed with the size of
the pack, 30 half, or less, minds showed up to do his trail. There
was plenty of parking and Lois Lame was thrilled that the
toilets were still open so she could put her *unning gear on without
having to put up with the leering Dr. Kimble. Dr. K
argues that he’s so old he has no idea what he might be leering
about but Dick Ass Mother Fucker took him aside and explained
it to him. Backside Banger left baby Just James at home and
apparently his cash as well, had Pepe Le Poop been there he was would
have been applauding. Bitch Pimp arrived and knelt before our
hare in thanks that he’d picked a start that she could actually
find on her own. Just Lily arrived with Cream Chugger
in tow and Qaeda Cunt promptly set to sniffing her butt, Just
Lily’s not CC’s! The Gypsies were graced by the
presence of the crème de la crème of Euro trash. Cuming Mutha
was especially pleased to have people there who didn’t notice an
accent. Prince, West LondonH3, took the pulpit to preach a
sermon in his plumiest tones. Somehow even the raunchiest bits of the
Male Missal sound like they belong in Westminster Abbey when
they’re read in that voice. While the pack listened raptly to those
dulcet tones Pied Piper was busy handing out Almond Roca.
Brave Fart tossed one into her mouth and promptly tossed it
back out as Adopt A Pussy had to say that Almond Roca always
makes him think of “cat turds”. Tongueless had no such
qualms as he fisted a handful into his gaping maw. The Cunt Next
Door was there for a final fling before she flings out her
offspring so she was really happy that Hard On, West LondonH3,
was there in case she should suddenly need the services of a
qualified midwife. Somehow the offer of King Rongjon to handle
it just didn’t seem to thrill TCND, visions of RJ and
the Sword Of Power danced in her head replacing sugar plums.
While all this was going on our hare had slipped off to actually lay
his trail. Trail took the pack down and across Kennedy Dr. and into
the woods surrounding Lloyd Lake where the pack was able to hopscotch
over the rocks without breaking any ankles. As the trail took the
pack through the GGP Disc Golf Course, White Trash, West
LondonH3, wondered aloud that here was a sport that called for even
less a mind than hashing. Further into the woods trails seemed to
diverge and one set of Lost Patrolees under the guidance of On All 4s
and Cuming Mutha took a lower route while another set of the halt,
lame and lazy took a higher route. Twat High a hardy soul
serving with NATO in England and Likker Hard the infamous
German diplomat also serving in London took Tongueless and
Fits In’s advice, surely a mistake, and with Tongue
Depressor’s snout pushing them along soldiered on. WYD’s
hobby of collecting and reviewing restrooms was in full blossom as
his trail brought the pack past the Polo Field South Restrooms. 5150
nipped in for a quick one and used the towels to polish his ski pole
as well as his skin pole. The pack was treated to a choice of trails
since WYD’s trail overlapped Cuming Mutha’s earlier
trail in spots so the it was pay your money and take your choice.
“Saint” Titty Boo Boo may have over done the science
approach by using carbon dating to tell him which bit of flour was
older. The pack managed to find its way back to Stowe Lake and set up
shop at a picnic table to have the usual bacchanalian meltdown.
Things got off to an odd start with Bitches Bitch weeping with
pleasure that there had been no PO. The Sacred Bucket was
filled with River Madness so it was no surprise that Golden
Snowball confided to Tongueless’ Penis that he needn’t
worry about melting in her hand. Cockulus Oculus assumed the
throne finding a spot on the picnic bench alongside the Bucket
and the poured down-downs. King Rongjon reappeared along with
Prince and Hard On having spent their trail time in a
pub. The King took up the Sword Of Power and convening
the Circle proceeded to entertain himself until he didn’t then
passed the Sword to T who couldn’t even entertain
Udder Moron! Hand Pump and Chickenboner wept at
his even more than usual ineptitude. T of course was busy
chewing Almond Roca and washing it down with River Madness so he
didn’t notice. No alcohol or Vitamin J left the park alive. Cheers.