Run #1388 Old Enough to Know Better and Still Do It!

Dr. Kimble brought the pack back to the Presidio to do it’s Gypsies’ war dance in front of the former BOQ at Lincoln Blvd and Hoffman St. where there is plenty of parking and two ways in and out but no neighbors to bitch and moan about the noise. There was the expectation of another cold night but happily the wind was down and temperature okay. Of course with the wimpy nature of hashers the mere thought of discomfort cuts down on the pack size. Not that your scribe is going to complain about not having a bag full of names to contend with! The sturdier souls were pounding pints of Lagunitas IPA and watching the parking spaces fill. Somehow a perfect storm of names occurred with a visitor Verbal Diarrhea, late of San AntonioH3 and currently BoiseH3, and Wash This Asshole being there. After VD preached from the Male Missal he just get, um, *unning his mouth proving he was well named. Imagine if you can the sheer joy Fits In felt realizing she was the only Gypsies bim in the bunch surrounded by the likes of VD, Who’s Your Daddy, and Tongueless’ Penis. At least she had Tongue Depressor and Qaeda Cunt to turn to for solace, um, not to mention the keg. Dr. K provided his patented chalktalk and waved the pack off for its adventure. Trail took the pack back on Hoffman through all the houses past startled civilians. Dr. Kimble promised toilet paper would be marking part of the trail and that part turned out to be the concrete drainage ditch along the fence on the side of 101. The hounds especially loved this with Tongue Depressor flying down the narrow concrete ditch trying desperately to get Tongueless off his feet. The toilet paper marked the pipes that had to be climbed over to get back to the street. Trail eventually took the pack back onto Lincoln Blvd and under the freeway. The night was moonlit and that’s good because Dr. K sent the pack down the Park Trail and even with headlamps it was a time to practice Braille. Trail crossed McDonald Ave. with the old horse barns and all the civilians with their yoga mats and yoga pants to stare at the Gypsies wide eyed with fear. One look at Pied Piper told the Millennial set that this was what they had to look forward to. Trail took the pack minus the Lost Patrol down Patten Rd. The LP turned left rather than right and kept all those sweet young things cringing in fear. The entire pack was reunited at the Pet Cemetery and then they took to the road through Crissy Field. Che Gayavara was especially pleased to have caused a collision between two cyclists although he had to claim three; Gypsies do tend to self inflate. Trail took the pack past the Warming Hut and up the trail to long Ave. and across Lincoln Blvd. the start. 5150 was noted as having been a late starter but he couldn’t hold a candle to Jack The Ripper who started out, as the pack was finishing up! Hand Pump was positively gleeful at the thought that he was not going to be DFL. Fits In subscribes to the idea of location, location, location so she had T lug the keg to 3 different spots till she saw perfection. The table was laid with Vitamin J and the Sacred Thermi filled with coffee, Dr. K’s favorite selection, to be mixed with Irish Cream, Kahlua and or Irish Whiskey were brought to the table. The first law officers to arrive were the Park Rangers who asked what was up and T told them it was a *unning club back from a *un enjoying some hot coffee. Who’s Your Daddy pointed out the pack was all over 40, Dr. K that there were some over 70 and T topped it off by copping to being 72. The laughing policemen admonished the pack to not overdo and left. Down-downs were poured from the keg and T took up the Sword Of Power to convene the Circle and administer the proper punishments. Of course that was when the Federal Police chose to arrive. T foisted the Sword off to 5150 who mumbled, “That’s right give the Sword to the black guy!” Oddly enough this officer didn’t want any coffee either but did take a copy of the Trash and instructed the pack to have good time. They did as ordered. Cheers.