Run 1292 Just Kick Over the Rocks and See What Crawls Out!

 

WhoŐs Your Daddy was back in the swing of things setting trail for the Gypsies from where else but Golden Gate Park and in scoping out the trail he must have kicked over a load of rocks because all the vermin came out to play.  Not that the usual GypsiesŐ bimbos are anything to sneeze at but Fuck Norris was comparing herself to The Perfect Woman and then Dick Ass Mother Fucker pointed out that TPW was actually male. At that point Fuck Norris blamed her concerns on the Lagunitas Brown Shugga that sheŐd been chugging. Our hare called the pack to order at the stop sign at 5th Ave. and MLK, Jr. Dr. Even Cuming Mutha was able to find the start once he realized his evil computer was trying to send him to Oakland and beat the truth out of Google. Just Emily fresh from Everyday Is WednesdayH3 in D.C. actually took the listed 6:15 start as gospel so she was forced to start drinking early. It was Dammit Janet I Want To Screw who made her cum and when he spotted the ABV on the Brown Shugga he assumed he would be making her cum againÉmore easily. Closet Twitcher and DoucheACorn both found spots to chain their bikes and Douche even found the an open ATM. Dead Beat being both a deadbeat and too lazy to look just used the Chickenboner ATM ala Pepe Le Poop. As the pack was sorting itself out our hare snuck off to lay the trail and Just Emily took up the Traveling Missal to preach a sermon on the joys of tapping that old favorite, Ňcock sapÓ. At the mention of that Cream ChuggerŐs eyes glowed in the night as she dedicated herself to naming Just Emily. Hell, everybody needs a hobby. As the sermon ended the pack anxious to be off in search of the promised beer check at one of our hareŐs many safe houses, he has many just in case those ex-wives get too close, took off into the night. Trail took the pack along the path between MLK, Jr. Dr. and Lincoln. Trail turned left off the concreted onto the still sodden turf before recrossing MLK and cutting through the Robin Williams Meadow Picnic Area. As the toilets were passed Lois Lame could be heard singing the praises of never missing a chance to pee. LL is well known for taking joy from the simplest of pleasures. King Rongjon took command of the Lost Patrol and his unerring sense of direction put even the snouts of Tongue Depressor and Qaeda Cunt to shame although him crawling along the ground sniffing did slow the LP down. To TonguelessŐ complaint the King pointed out that the hounds had both 4 legs and were closer to the ground to start with. Genetics trumped TŐs grumbling. WYDŐs trail was easy to follow since he understands the object of marking trail is not to get the pack lostÉthey can do that on their own and Twinkle Dick did. As the pack approached the tennis courts off Bowling Green Dr. they were treated to the live check our hare had laid. WYD had one of the parks ubiquitous homeless denizens instructing the pack as to where to go. For the price of a can of beer our hare was able to send the pack on a circle jerk that took them passed the AIDS Memorial Grove. He made sure to bring politics into the trail by taking the pack across Nancy Pelosi Drive. King Rongjon balked at the crossing fearing that it would turn him into a Democrat. Fit In solved the problem by having him close his eyes as she led him across. Trail took the erudite pack through the Shakespeare Garden and past the Academy of Sciences with its compliment of Thursday night Millenials enjoying the free wine and lecture. Cums In Boots mixed with the crowd hoping to get a chance to cum in something besides footwear. Tuna On Top pronounced him a prime example hope springing eternal in the male genitalia. While the pack enjoyed WYDŐs largesse, itŐs amazing how many people can split two cans of beer; the LP took the KingŐs advice and headed on-in. A suitably dark and damp spot was procured and the table was laid with Vitamin J and the Sacred Thermi filled with mulled wine. Phone Sex found her way to the start and made up for lost time on the Brown Shugga. Blow Queen and Tears Of Semen may have been late but that didnŐt stop them from working up a sweat. TOS did say that next time BQ should bring a blanket if the grass is wet. Cockulus Oculus was another late cumer once again successfully avoiding all exercise other than elbow bending. Manhole led by ManŐs Best Hole and Hand Pump dueled mightily for DFL but Hand Pump took the prize. Dr. Kimble withstood the urge to head for home and hump for as long as he could finally succumbing to the siren song of sex. King Rongjon reluctantly took up the Sword Of Power and convened the Circle. Much as he wished to *un someone through, what being on the wagon can do to you, he held himself in check. Cream Chugger made a valiant and tearful attempt to get Just Emily named ŇCock SapÓ but the pack was hardly drunk enough. Dead Beat was an easy choice for the Pepe Le Poop Award for being yet another consistently cheap bastard. The Sacred Thermi were drained, all the Brown Shugga in the Sacred Cooler disappeared and the vultures decimated the Vitamin J. Cheers.