SFH3 Run #1962: Pour some sugar on me
: 01/06/2020
: Noe Valley Tennis Courts, Douglas St.& Elizabeth St.
: Fuck buddy & Peek-a-booby
: Do Her Frost

Two Harriettes In Noe Valley

Out of the dark two harriettes neared
And caught Hand Pump parking by the yard,
And one of them put Wee Wee off her beer
By hailing cheerily "We baked with lard!"
Cumming Mutha knew as he ran behind
And let Bierectional go on a way.
Fuck Norris suspected what they had in mind:
A pickup hash PeekaBooby and Fuck Buddy'd lay.

Steep streets uphill Three Fingers split,
As fast as Humpy Slowcum ran as a downtown block;
And every backcheck Deadbeat hit
Solved effortless over hill and rock.
The signs of a pack with no control
Just Doesn't Get It running fast,
Do Her Well praying in her soul,
That the bus's wheels would trundle past.

The checks were tough and the wind was chill.
You know how it is on an SFH3 day
When Sperm Donor's checking and Muppet Dick's still,
And it looks like the pack's found the way.
But the minute EMP dares to speak,
A YBF comes in the middle of a park,
Hello Titties descends from a frozen peak,
And Banana In Public's miles back in the dark.

And Millimeter Peter and Cream Throat did alight,
The bag of flour they would assume,
Got Wood and One and Done waited in the night
With Blackout and Tuna in the gloom.
Delaying ten minutes they all knew
The hares would play a game of possum.
None of the pack would have a clue,
That Cream Throat Willies's cohare lost him.

The beer for which The Perfect Woman would look
Whether hearty ale or gentle blonde,
In Mary Tyler Whore's dreams flows like a brook,
Of all of them Bloqueen's very fond.
Be glad of beer, but don't forget
The hares's baked goods they will bequeath
The bourbon and stout cakes a complementary set
Will disappear in Shaft's and Dick Ass's teeth.

The time when most I loved this hash
The pickup trail makes me love it more
Rectology arising to the task.
It's like Orieanal Express had never run before
Mother Hentai at a check poised aloft,
Cosmo dashing on lively feet,
Gingervitis and Hoseblower searching oft
Circling under the lofted street.

Jack The Ripper emerging under the lamp
Lighting his backwards path that night,
Just David bringing his virgin into our camp.
Dick Simmons still can't do a down down right.
Circling up we felt the lack,
Backside Banger wrapped up in wool.
Muff Daddy bringing the warm walkers back,
Six Tits and On All Fours were no fools.

Not much more needed to be said.
But for the fun I'd Do Er would stay
Letting silly nonsense fill Circle Jerk's head:
With banter Big Cock Chains would play
A fine hat for Christmas Wrinklepecker did gain.
Giving no warmth that Udder Moron would need.
And Hoseblower laughed at the refrain
As Purple Pussy Eater drank for his misdeed.

But yield who will to their separation,
My object in hashing is to unite
My self-flagellation and my libations
As my two eyes make one in sight.
Only where flour and beer are one,
And the work is play for drunken stakes,
Is the deed ever really done
For hashing and the circle's sakes.