For a residential trail, I was surprised by all the parks and marshes, and that crop field lined in giant holes, all soaking, swallowing, and straight fucking our feet. Mmm, foot fucks. The sky stayed dry and the stars were ever-distracting, the whole Milky Way unveiled. (I tried to think of a sexy “Milky Way” joke but my brain being stoopid.)
Thanks to an ungodly amount of clothes swaps, few people finished in what they started. Namron (FRB for the day) finished in my leggings, despite the ever-so-snug fit cramping his finesse. Did you know we have the same legs? Seriously, if not for the bulge, our bottom halves would be indiscernible.
New songs were passed along via Eugeners during Circle, interrupted by a pizza boy, who, instead of being fearsome of our cultish band of cross-dressers, expressed interest in joining. So of course, we barked him back in manic unison, and harassed him with hash-esque questions. Poor pizza boy. I do hope he cums back to us. On-after continued at the Hash House of Banned from the Zoo, One Solid Dick, Stuff my Muffin and Cockbroker, where we all got disastrously drunk and attempted headstands. Well, some of us.
Now go fondly fuck yourselves,