Run #1640 Thursday in the Park with Dr. K!
Art lover that he is, Dr. Kimble decided to pay homage to George Seurat’s, one of his favorite artists, great painting Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte, commonly known as Sunday in the Park with George, by laying the Gypsies’ trail from Corte Madera Town Park at Pixley and Tamalpais. This was going to be Thursday in the park with Dr. K! The Outbeer coasted in and the pack started forming. Dickweed was down from Oregon and instantly asked the keg of Lagunitas Island Beats Tropical IPA to marry him. At least he recognizes quality! The pack was shaping up as a small one but as usual Gypsy war parties come in all sizes. Once the tap hit the keg size only meant there was more piss for those present. Dr. K had more success dragging people across the bay than fighting traffic to come up from SF! It was still light so the civilians got a full taste of the Gypsies pounding piss and were overtaken with their usual; *unning about to snatch their kiddies away from the evil Gypsies. Code For Butt offered a moppet some candy and the shriek of terror could be heard for miles, but not apparently at the Police Dept. around the corner, phew! CFB was reminded yet again that no good deed goes unpunished! Dickweed provided the pack, and any civilians still in the parking lot, a stirring sermon from the Male Missal and Dr. K provided a fine chalktalk that told the pack absolutely nothing other than don’t get killed! With our hare’s admonishing on all minds the pack set off. The Lost Patrol was minimal and consisted of Tongueless, Fits In and Wash This Asshole; about a third of the those present! Trail took the pack, one and all, back to Tamalpais Dr. and past the afore-mentioned PD. From there it was dgk and up Willow Ave. By now Blow Queen was moving so fast that he was leaving a chemtrail from his sweat! Tears Of Semen was finding it more enjoyable to eschew speed for convivial conversation with the LP. T and FI did have the advantage of having lived in Corte Madera for 8 years, so they had a sense of the lay of the land. Our hare was taking the pack on a tour of the city. As trail meandered hither and yon CFB and Butt Plug Fred were starting to wonder if they were on a trail or a real estate tour. The LP was hoping for a beer check at Dr. K’s hillside home but were disappointed, at least trail went close. This doesn’t mean Dr. K laid a flat trail, far from it, but a least no one had to search among the trees for toilet paper or pray that they wouldn’t be a human luge on a steep down go of shiggy! Don’t believe for a moment that Hand Pump actually went looking for a steep spot to fall on. HP was perfectly happy to keep all the blood in his body and leave none on trail. Back at the start a picnic table was covered with Vitamin J and the Sacred Thermi held coffee to be mixed with Irish Cream, Kahlua and, or brandy. There was a bit of contretemps when Just Ginger, now Whack Job made it crystal clear that she didn’t need Dickweed or anyone else to EVER try to help her or offer directions to avoid being lost! Just next time let her walk off the cliff. WTA applauded JG’s performance, but it didn’t get him any, um, thing! Happily, no blood, only alcohol, was shed. Eventually the pack dispersed into the night. Cheers.
On In!