#1213 Branch Avenue October 5, 2008 Your Worst Nightmare Trail

Hares: The Udder Ho, Runs With Bulls, Sucks It Blue, Private Snowball
Brew Crew: Blows A Tranny
Beer Bitch: Just Nate
Virgins: We didn't have any. Everyone in attendance had been around. Like a record.
Visitors: Just Matt - Homeless, Dog Man - Rocket Shitty H3, Tiger Woody - Baku, Squats In A Bush - Surf City, Conichitwat - Surf City
Analversaries: Dairy Queen - 100, Louisville Sucker - 25

I want to start by saying how glad I was to stop banging your mom long enough to scribe a trail. That woman is enthusiastic, but I have a job to do. I must also say it was nice to see a stunt RA running circle. Assflac was filling in for our usual RAs. I guess it was their week to bang your mom. Anyway, we traveled all the way to the most Southeast portion of the DC Metrorail system to chase four large black men around the woods. Wow! That didn't strike me as such a terrible picture until I actually wrote the words. Make your own joke, because I just don't have anything for you there. Don't worry, I'm not going soft on you. I'm still disappointed that there wasn't fried chicken at the end circle. I'm also going to look into the constitution of the White House Hash to determine our Affirmative Action status. So, even though we were sincerely confused about how there could be four Private Snowballs in the opening circle, we did run trail, and there was an understandable amount of stupidity to be observed on trail. Let's hear about that, shall we?

Violations:
Dog Man: New drinking vessels shaped like running shoes.
Army Ten-Milers: You're stupid. And racist.
Put It Out: Didn't know if he was cumming. If you're not sure, the answer's probably no.
Horn Blower: Times are tough. He's saving on his utility bill by bathing in the fountain.
Hares: Marked a start to EWH3. This is White House Hash.
Queerly I'm Straight: Performed a Superman style face plant while running on trail.
Hares: Apparently didn't have enough food stamps to buy flour.
Just Matt: Is apparently a medical professional, but did little more than avoid tripping over Queerly I'm Straight.
Knee Deep Pussy High: Honorary down down for demonstrating that she could fit 10 balls in her mouth.
Private Snowball: Confirmed all of our worst nightmares when he mistook Runs With Bulls for Sucks It Blue.
Roof Rack: Engaged in racist sympathy when she was stretching in the circle.
Assflac: Failure to wait for Burnt Socks. Yeah, this was in my notes, but I don't know why. I guess I drank that memory into oblivion.

Then, in a terribly disappointing turn of events, it was on on on to Red Lobster. I'm not saying you can't get food and beer there, or that you can't get a harriette just drunk enough to make an error in your favor. I'm just saying it wasn't soul food.

On On,
Gay Guy Counter