Run #1596 Back...or Backless in Black!

It was the last Thursday in March, so it was time for that yearly exercise in over accessorizing known as the Gypsies’ Little Black Number and since it’s less a mad dash than a pub crawl, who better to set the trail than the reigning queen of pub crawls, Chickenboner! CB gathered the pack at Front and Union aka the Hell Mouth. The Outbeer arrived with its keg of Lagunitas IPA and little by little the pack arrived to drink it. Hot Dick and Ice Box were looking tres chic with HD in his decolletage and beret and IB with her pillbox, “can’t cum into the Top of the Mark with a HAT!”, hat! Tongueless, aware of his age, went for the grand dame rather than the sexpot look, although his blonde wig was to die for. Fits In opted for a casual look not wanting to steal any of T’s thunder! Back from his lengthy diplomatic missions aimed at making the world safe for hashing, King Rongjon cut quite a figure, not that anyone could figure out what that figure was. It was especially welcome to have Douche Of Hazard and A Fist Full Of Cum show up since they tied the knot at this very trail in 2012! Locals weren’t the only ones wanting to strut their enviable stuff. Deer Bitch from Deer BeachH3 in New Jersey opted for a Grim Reaper look but as he said at least it was black. Bundes Licker came all the way from HamburgH3 to walk the runway in SF! The King was hoping to find out if Can’t Rush Anal could, in fact, be rushed along by applying the proper amount of alcohol. Religion was deftly handled by Boner Marrow in an up to the minute gown envisioning the Universe. Male Missal in hand he preached a sermon of shuddering release to a pack in need of just that. On that note CB sent the pack off in search of the first bar they were meant to inhabit. There were, of course the few, the proud, the unbelievably foolish who actually *an the trail but their reputations will be protected by anonymity! Suffice it to say that hill work was the name of the game as our hare took the pack up even the slightest up go not to mention the final slog up California to end at the Tonga Room. Once again it was the Gypsies and not the thunder and lightning or indoor lake who were the real show. More than one Mai-Tai and Martini met its death on the dancefloor. Choke Me Daddy and Exaggerated Cracktripped the light fantastic, although CSI claimed the fantastic part was, they remained upright. It was “Hare’s away” and CB shot off to the next stop. The whining started as soon as shoes hit the cement, “What happened to the Top of the Mark?” The only reason the Gypsies got in last year is spelled Pandemic followed by Greed, not now. The pack climbed back up California then turned down Stockton to climb back up Bush to Powell and slide downhill to what used to be the Sir Francis Drake with the Star Light Room atop it but is now the Beacon Grand topped by the Starlite Room. A lot of money was spent to ruin a great bar, oh well. The place was packed but the French 75s were flowing. The view was ruined and the dance floor, that Open Wide used to worm her way around, is now booths. It’s the kind of place where when CB entered the lobby she was told, “Don’t go up there, it will just make you feel old!” As T and HD bellied up to the bar, Just Tim and Cherry Chaser wondered aloud as to how many of the bimbettes were pros. They’d go broke chatting up Missed Delivery or 5150! This is when Dr. Kimble rang to ask if the pack was at the start, um, talk about time impaired. It was off to the Bamboo Hut on Broadway where the pack was welcomed with open arms and Volcano Bowls. They were also welcomed by Pied Piper and Dr. K along with a Whine and Chowder wanker who never made it to the list. Pied Piper and Dr. K were less than properly attired but at least Pied Piper was there to deliver the peanuts that Dr. K fetishes over, so they bonded! Our hare finally pulled out, so to speak, and laid a trail home. By the time the pack dribbled in the Outbeer was already serving as table for the pizzas that CB picked up on the way back. The Cloak Of Invisibility dropped over the keg and was topped with all the Vitamin J. The Sacred Bucket held Sea Breeze and for the chilly ones a Sacred Thermos held Sangria. For Missed Delivery to wrap his dong in a slab of pizza and try to get Cock A Mole to participate was wrong for so many reasons, not the least for how hot the pizza was, oops! King Rongjon convened a Circle and him wielding the Sword Of Power really quieted the pack. After all the down downs the King and T closed the festivities with a rousing rendition of Clint Meets the Gay Caballero. It was good to find that Just Get It Over With kept screaming thar not because they sounded so bad, they did, but because she had to pee. It was one of those typical Hell Mouth nights, very long!