“It’s always good to have an FNG in the bush”
Hares: drip lip, The fucking Idiot, One eyed Willy
Box: Radar Balls near Leo Palace Gate
On Home: Other side of Leo Palace Road
The trail started predictably as most trails in the area do as a sweltering stroll through a maze of jeep tracks. After a few checks, dodging some mountain bikes, and at least one off roader, the pack descended down a sword grass choked ravine into the river valley below. Once there it was your standard jaunt up the river to page 54 of Dave and Bev Lotz’ best hikes of Guam.
It was right around this point that Blowhole found his calling in the form of an old blue sake bottle which he proceeded to carry through a slippery, rocky river and up a waterfall. Now, as any home-ec teacher will tell you, the ability to not shatter one kind of fragile item (egg, bottle, etc) is directly related to and demonstrative of the ability to not shatter other kinds fragile items e.g. small children. So, those with hash brats please be advised: Blowhole nanny service is open for business. He is most certainly not licensed or bonded in any way and don’t bother with a background check.
When the pack eventually arrived at Sinisa Falls, the trail went up along the right side of the falls. Unimpressed, Viagra and Blowhole opted to climb directly up the waterfall. After a pagan ritual involving dances, guttural chanting, and a sacrifice of the last virgin on Guam, the two successfully ascended the falls. Minstrel, who lingered in the pool below remained skeptical for a number of reasons, not least of which because he knew exactly how old and dubiously placed the ropes were that they were using. He had set them.
The trail continued on up the river and spit the hounds out by the old Sherman tank. After one last slog through a nearby cesspool, the trail finished up as a jog through the Leo Palace grounds much to the confusion of several tourists and security personnel.
Meanwhile several other hounds had forsaken trail altogether in the hopes of nabbing some sweet, sweet hare pants. Unfortunately all they found was a fly trap. Tyrant being the fine English gentleman that he is, was kind enough to leave some bud light warming in the sun so that it would reach a more civilized temperature by the time the wayward hounds arrived. Slurpee upon discovering the on-home for run 18-O-FU decided he would save these for later hare punishment. Concerned about losing the delicate flavor profile of 100 degree bud light, he stowed them in his speedo, in which there was more than enough room.
Religion was religion. I filled in for Falsettbro as RA. There were boobs, there were wieners, and there was an inexplicable Christmas tree-less elephant walk. Cum Rag and Facial returned from Hawaii for a visit. I think there was at least one other visitor, but who really knows? Slurpee regaled us with his account of the no home and, not having the foresight of a goddamn chicken called the hares up to drink his crotch beers. He was promptly palau’d in for each one. There was a disappointing lack of tongue. Later Root Canal, ever the entertainer, held an up-up competition. The pack was pretty far gone at this point and most of the up-ups didn’t quite make it all the way up, but Backsplash came through in the clutch with her uncanny ability to suck down any thing, any where, and at any awkward angle to win the day. I think she won a patch or some shit. Still missing at least one hound and one FNG religion transitioned into sport drinking which broke up when the last FNG and her escort arrived safely. She’ll just have to wait until next week to show her tits.
On-On to the 1806!