Hash Trash: 1/2 Bandit XVII, Shortly Before the Apocalypse

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Hash Trash: 1/2 Bandit XVII, Shortly Before the Apocalypse

Postby On the Rag » Wed Sep 30, 2020 12:03 pm

Squeeeeee Squeeeeeee Squeeeeeee Squeeeeeee Squeeee!!

AssWeGo did not understand a word of Mus Wuhensis, but he did notice the cute little thing, shivering on the curb, as waves of humans and their many murderous heels passed at a 7:30 pace. Mouse? Baby squirrel? Whatever, it was clearly intent, but HOW to cross Park Dr. without being crushed by the Halfsies and the Fullies of the 2020 GA Marathong?

“Looks like you’re trying to cross little one?” AWG asked kindly, and as if in reply with a daring leap she’s now clinging to the instep of Ass’s sneakers. “Hey, you climbing aboard?”

“SQUEEEEEE!!” she squeed twice as loud, and I’ll just go ahead and translate…

Please good sir, you’re my only chance! I must get safely across, and I know NOT what these humans...

“Awwh, what a cutie, she’s clinging to me I tell yah! I shake my foot and she won’t jump off. What’s that about?”

“Yeah that’s great AWG” says OTR, “but we got to get this Bandit underway, can you On-Out in about 2 minutes? Dude?”

“Yeah but look at this mouse” AWG asks, “it’s almost like she’s trying to tell us ….”

Oh Good Sir, thank you, Squeee!!, a magnanimous act with tremendous reward for your whole species

DribblesB4 leans close, “what’s the hold-up, AW? OTR’s about to wet his panties trying to On-Out… say, what have you got there?”

“This little one climbed on me” AWG swears, and “I feel like she’s willing me to take her to the other side.”

Oh Good Sir, it is true and just in the nick of time. SQUEEEE!! You must know that I am the last surviving Messenger Mouse from Wuhan, I’ve just come from the airport and I simply must reach the CDC to deliver… SQUEEEE!! SQUEEEE!!

“Well alright darling, I’ll get you over” and with a bit of DB4 blocking, AWG is safely across, or nearly, when he suddenly grabs her by the nape and brings Mousie face to face, and she’s squeeing her joy and gratitude, and AWG is a Hero and OTR is yelling and DB4 insists “we’ve gotta give the little one a drink!”

AWG tips his dixie cup of PBR and Squeemee’s tongue eagerly laps until she’s caught her breath…

Oh thank you Good Sir, I am quite thirsty indeed… wait, was this not water Sir? Could this have been? Sir, have I drunk ALCOHOL? Oh, it is not possible… ACK KOFF KOFF ACK Sir, my species is entirely disabled by even one drop of ethyl… ACK KOFF KOFF ACK Sir, now YOU are the only hope for human kind, you must take me to Clifton… ACK KOFF KOFF ACK!!

Well, we’re off now Little Mousie!” once AWG has taken fotos, “it’s Half-Bandit #17 don’t you know, and we have several more beers to drink, and that cough… ida know Mousie, I’m just gonna leave you over here if it’s all right, Goodbye!”

And with that went the Last Hope for Humanity, but also went Freecum Loader, Amber Bait, DB4, AWG and On the Rag on the XVIIth iteration of the ½ Bandit, Sunday March 1, 2020. 40 and sunny, we feted DipStick on his Hostie Porch and pulled Too Limp out of the r@cists for a public flogging. Burning Bush r@ced past, who else? With Animal Rescue concluded we On-Out toward Piedie Park, short cutting and capering, singing songs and stopping frequently to enjoy deep, clasping hugs with Bandits and with Total Strangers.

BS#2 at 5th and Jupiter, we drank/walked over the Ptree Spine… then Tech was just Sort of a Blur… and soon we were at the Last Blessed Luckie Short which brings us to BS#3 with hosts BigB and Dr.P and the much lovely food and beer.

Pee and OTR cuddled and sang Tannhauser Duets until they fell asleep. AWG wept softly while Bore held him and rocked. Amber was making out with a girl AND a guy, and they were both hot, and they could not get enough of Amber. FC Loader Bear-Hugged every Consenting Finisher. Dribs gave Tango Lessons.

At some point we roused to On-Thru the Halfsie Finish and let me mention here what Sick, Heartless Bastards are the ATC Route Makers. Cheek by jowl with the Halfsies for 12, yet still the Fullies must lug through a mile of Bombast and Crap-Rock at the Half-Finish before they lean into the wind tunnel at Andy Young and on-up a despairing stretch of concrete for Mile 14, F#ck You Very Much! Even worse from there on, three insipid down-and-up loops plus some hideous zig-zaggery on the Phoenix track to hit the distance … Gentlemen if we can’t pick up a couple of r@cist deserters in Mile 17 (net -6), we must just look like a band of deranged, middle-age alcoholics.

We can confirm that there was an incident at the GSU Waffle House, but after hugs we all signed NDAs.

With Beer and Grilled Meats, Hosts SwampG and WillU, and Name and Name canoodled in a vast 3-point hammock well-equipped with lube, lamb wool throws and grab-bars for rowdy s-x. We danced for hours, until we’d given out all the beers and were plain raw from the naked grappling. We retrieved the Half-Buick, piled in, sealed the windows and sang rounds of Sea Chanties while OTR carefully navigated up the Boulevard.

Don’t say it: Best Half-Bandit Ever! and, How Many More Can We Possibly Survive? Don’t answer yet.

Bandits Kissed on Both Cheeks, like Russians, for several minutes then Swore Blood Oaths to mount Half-Bandit XVIII, Thanksgiving, Thursday 26 November, or die trying. 9:00 am shall we say? It will be an A2A from Oakland Cemetery, 6 miles of jog/walk, Beer Stops, Frivolity and Existential Dread. Safe Congregation Only: 3 meters and the Holy Ghost between all Bandits. While we still can!
On the Rag
 
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