Run #1597 The
Floodtide of History
The Gypsies’ motto has always been, “We don’ need no stinkin’ committee” so the only thing that happens at the Gypsies’
AGM, that’s AGM as in Anal Grand Mockery not Annual General Meeting, is
nothing. Think of the Gypsies as the Big Lebowski of hashing, the Gypsies
abide! Pied Piper decided to lay the trail and from his home away from
home, Blackie’s Pasture in Tiburon. In honor of the Gypsies turning the
ripe old age of 31, the first trail was April Fools’ Day 1993, PP
promised to fire up the Sacred Grill and cook like there was no tomorrow. NO one has any idea what PP did to offend
the Hashing Gods, but it was surely something serious because They turned on
the tap and water deluged from the sky. The lie was put to “It never rains on
Thursday!” It should now be, “It only rains on Thursday when it pours!” The Outbeer had no trouble finding parking,
but it did staying afloat. PP was wearing an
inner tube when he came out to greet the keg of Lagunitas Island Beats
Tropical IPA. Bets were being made on who would be desperate enough for
cheap piss to brave the elements. Exaggerated Crack pulled up but he got a pass since he was showing that he is man of
his word by bringing the keg he and Choke Me, Daddy had emptied from last week!
Manhole was there since he and PP had laid the trail and managed
to survive both the hailstorm in which they’d found themselves and the steep
slip and slide shiggy. MH was wearing poncho that he wouldn’t have
trusted as a garbage bag, but hey, it was cheap. Minutes passed and Dr. Kimble
arrived complete with his umbrella. The desperate for cheap piss question was answered
finally with the arrival of Hand Pump and Blow Queen. Of course, Fits
In and Tongueless don’t count since without them the pack would have
had to beat its meat instead of Island Beats. Since the few, the
brave, the incredibly dumb were standing around in the rain the keg was tapped
and at least some liquid was internalized. FI insisted this was a no charge
evening as she would feel guilty asking for money! The pack mulled over what it
was going to do and whether there was somewhere nearby that would provide
shelter for the grilling to take place. In one sense it was lucky the trail was
in Marin since the start was not that far from Chez Fits In and T
aka Lagunitas South! It didn’t take long for the decision that those who
wanted to “*un” trail could and then head north to T and FI’s garage
where PP would set up the Sacred Grill and work his magic. To
ward off the chill, FI had Sacred Thermi filled with rum and hot
cider. And so, it was written and so it was done! The Outbeer turned north
to Novato followed by PP and MH while the rest headed into the
hills to conquer or die! EC with his promise fulfilled, wisely, headed
for home and hearth. Back at the ranch the garage door was raised, the keg was
tapped, PP brought out his table and covered it with buns and every
condiment known to man. PP set up a portable burner and set a pot of
chili to cooking, in case anyone wanted a chili dog or a plate of chili. Eventually
the survivors, such and soggy as they were, to partake in PP’s feast including
hot dogs, polish sausages, cheddar hot dogs and chili. The vultures were both
hungry and thirsty. Hell, they even went for the Vitamin J. Dr. K’s better
¾ sent homemade carrot cake to add to the fullness of the evening. 5150
had rung T, when the pack was still at Blackie’s and said he was cuming. T told him not to bother. Eventually Dr.
K felt fortified enough to brave the elements and return home. Those that
had growlers, PP, filled them, The keg survived quite handily but one of
the Sacred Thermi died valiantly. The pack headed off into the eye of
the storm and FI and T sat back to relax. At 10pm there was a muffled
knock at the door and there stood 5150! All in all, a fine AGM! Cheers.