Run #795 Green Eggs and Hamstrings

Escrowtum said I will hare, then poor Escrowtum had a scare.

She went out on a fling, that left her hurting, from a stretched out hamstring.

Boo hoo boo hoo, what will I do?

If no one helps me with the *un, the Gypsies will have no fun.

Dr. Kimble said “I will help you set the trail, I will help you without fail.”

The *un had its start in Corte Madera, where the hills all around gave Operation Golden Flow quite a scare-a.

Holy Nipples stayed home, so R U Gay could drink and roam.

The Sir WalterH3 sent Cooter Stew to read the Sacred Missal for you and me.

She read from the Missal with a voice full of joy, that put lead in the pencil of Father Weed her poor drunken boy.

They’d been to the A’s game and drunk so much beer, that the keg in the Outbeer left them cringing in fear.

Bigfoot said have no fear, Lagunitas IPA is quite mild beer, bwaah bwaah.

When finally the chalk talk was done, the pack was sent off in the night to have fun.

One stair, two stairs, three stairs, four, Bone Marrow climbed but there always were more.

While Drill Me’s lungs they were burning, for a miserably dead hare she was yearning.

The Pussy Eater dragged her up the hill, while she dreamt of painful ways Dr. Kimble to kill.

While the rest of the pack struggled and strained finding checks that left them all puzzled, The clever ones Enter The Gerbil, Fits In, and Tongueless sat at the Left Bank and guzzled.

With Tongue Depressor and Just Doc leading the way, our drinking pack merry and gay

returned to the Outbeer to bring the Sacred Bucket into play.

At the sight of the Bucket, Useless Tool with fear was filled, and he fled from the scene ere a drop had been swilled.

Lois Lame watched from behind her dark glasses as the Bucket left our visitors down on their asses.

Rarely Cums was there without a knee brace, too bad the Sacred Bucket left her flat on her face.

Cop Killer strode through the pack, much taller by far than those on their back.

Enter the Gerbil did the Circle delare, where down-downs were shoved down the throat of each hare.

Just Jeff from the HoustonH3 to the Gypsies came, how sad that after seven years he still had no name.

No name no name this cannot stand, seven years with no name is too long in hash land.

The Gypsies mined a vein full of names that was rich, and sent him back home as Seven Year Bitch.

Those who were there had fun they would say so, then continued the fun at the old Silver Peso.

Cheers.

.