SFH3 Run #1797: Post-Thanksgiving Turkey Trot
|:||Hamilton Rec Center (Post & Scott)|
|:||My Little Porno|
|:||Do Her Well|
In a world gone mad,
“I’m going to stay sober for a whole day! Who’s with me?” I’m Drunk looks around. Haolewood cheers.
Where cocks run rampant,
Cockagami, Cockamole, and Sodomentary Cock run down the road doing 6 minute miles, pulling John Handcock along after them. Cockulus Oculus clicks times off, yelling at them to go faster.
And good friends are hard to find.
Fuck Buddy disappears around a corner.
“I haven’t seen the pack in days!” Dick Simmons declares.
A group of hashers has discovered that their little drinking group may not be so drunken after all.
“I thought we were there for some good old Thanksgiving cheer,” Wee Wee groans. “But then we stopped drinking and went for a walk!”
“I just had one bottle of wine,” Cirque du so Lame says soberly. “And now Ru Ru Rimmin’s family is going to disown me!”
In a time when not even the returners can remind them of their roots.
“Winner!” yells Minor 69er, watching Oedipussy race Sad He Ate Her, Banana In Public, and Sir Menage A Lot into the beer check.
“I’m foot loose, fancy free, and ready to run!” cries Drunkin Honuts.
And visitors are… up to their own devices.
“Lick it good…” mutters Where My Money. Public Enema pants by his ankles, while Eyehole takes photographs.
Only one harriette can come to their rescue.
“The post-thanksgiving trail? Sure, I can make it easy for you,” My Little Porno hangs up the phone.
“A pound of flour will do.”
Hand Pump looks at My Little Porno doubtfully.
“Trail will be two miles, tops.”
A story of hope, redemption…
Fucker sidles up to the bar. “Let’s have a round for all my walker friends.” Gobble My Ass, Millimeter Peter, Blowqueen and Douchicorn cheer.
A trail of garments, wine bottles, and one ID reading ‘Roman Showers’ lines a path towards the van, now rocking rhythmically.
“I wish I knew how to quit you!” Bitch’s Bitch hugs a sack of flour.
But sometimes even fairy tales don’t have happy endings.
“I think we’re nearly to San Bruno,” moans Circle Jerk.
“I’m lying on the cold, hard ground,” weeps Meh.
“Get up and fight like a Meh!” Stinky Floss kicks him until he starts running again.
And putting one’s trust in even the finest of harriettes,
“I think trail goes that way!” Primal Vagina takes off.
“Isn’t that the MUNI tunnel?” asked Whorifist.
May have its consequences...
“Ahhhh! AAAAHHHH!” Me No Engrish yells as a little old lady pushes her cart over her foot.
“Where’s my fucking meat shield?” she screams in agony.
Just David ducks further down into the cart.
The San Francisco Hash House Harriers must band together
“Are you sure we’ll all fit?” asks Muff Daddy, pushing Do Her Well into the van after Masterbaster.
“Twerxes can go under the steering wheel,” Udder Moron dictates.
“What we need is lubrication!” Sir Spongebob Sploogepants points out. Brown Eye unzips his pants.
To triumph over evil,
“Two miles,” snorts My Little Porno. “Two before the drink check, that is. Muahahahaaha.”
And learn what really matters in life,
“So if the the oozing lasts more than two days you definitely need to see a doctor,” Mouth Down South explains.
Is having friends you can count on.
“Do we always get this drunk?” Just Tom asks Just David. David belches in reply.
Starring Cherry Poppins as That Guy In All The Movies Who Looks Really Familiar But You Don’t Know His Name…
Slap A Bag Of Dickz runs off into the distance.
Hoseblower as Dr. Emmett Brown…
“Great Scott!” Hoseblower waves a finger high.
Chicken Bone Her, Fuck Norris, and Dick Ass Mother Fucker as Charlie’s Angels…
Perfect Woman runs up to a cliff and leaps off of it, diving into the water below.
And Douchicorn’s Fucking Cute Little Dog.
Cumming to a theater near you. ‘My Little Porno’s Trot of Horrors.’