Trail #350 (three-fiddy) The Spring into March Trail, or more correctly, The Arctic Trail.

Hares:  Nuclear Jism, My Little Bologna Pony, Corn on the Cock

Believe it or not, we actually had virgins on trail even though it was only 9 degrees outside.  Obviously not the big winners in the gene pool, and thusly welcomed to the inner circle were our newbies Just Jerry and Just KC.  Fire in the Cornhole learned how to use the latest technological addition to his life, a microwave, and heated up the leftover hot chocolate shots for us at opening circle.  Life. Saver.  The merciful and oh-so-beloved hares of the evening took the balmy weather into account and shortened the original trail to spare us from a fate worse than life without cellphones.  Everybody was pitching in, it was sticky-sweet like the end of a romantic comedy.

Shortest opening cirlce ever, instructions were given, the hares were sent off without any pomp and circumstance, and the rest of the wankers stripped down to their epidermis and cuddled for body heat.  We noticed something may have gone awry when we saw the bag with two unopened bags of flour sitting by the beer vehicle.  I suppose these oh-so-experienced hares are so good they don't need flour?  Really, they didn't.  First, the ground was covered with snow...most of us can't tell our right from our left so discerning snow vs. flour was like quantum physics.  Second, I don't know what the r*nners did - other than r*n fast enough to keep their limbs from frostbite - but the walkers trail went around the side of the building and across the street to beer check.  We enjoyed pudding AND jell-o shots in the oddest little semen sample containers.  We took group photos with smiling faces, and played with Cornhole's dog who is extremely talented at catching flying ice chips.  When we'd lingered long enough to worry about finishing trail in decent time, we followed the hare to where?  Back check to start, on-in.  Drunk, spent, and sweaty were we.  100 yards in 9 degrees is brutal.  Talk about a death march, the r*nners had it eeeeezzzeeeeee.

Violators:

Violations - really we don't need a reason, but we had many anyway.

No Name Nyet & AndHowsHer Bush - impersonating spies like us with their roadkill babushka hats.

Mount Me Tender - overachieving by running more than a block from her house to start.

Poonskin & just Pavonka - matching "these boots are made for walking/your momma wears combat boots" boots.

Just Jerry - our second black hasher, shows up in perfectly coordinated "sisterhood of the traveling" pants and sweatshirt.  Also, took forever to pop his hash cherry because he thought we were all losers.  After trail, he said "that was fun", and turned us all into Jerry's Kids.

Nub - when trying to take pics of said smiling faces, found himself challenged by counting and pressing a button at the same time.  And later, for letting us know he's going blind due to extensive self-exploration activities.

Fire in the Cornhole - for wanting ring Udder's bell (my be-e-e-e-ell, ring my bell, my bell, ding-a-ling-a-ling) and hunting on trail, chasing Nyet and AndHowsHer's hats.

Just Megan - she responds to any name, give her a try.

Poonskin Cap - caught hiding behind a truck taking self-portaits with a cheesy-poof in her mouth.  so caught up in the moment, she didn't notice Dixie's wanker in her face.

Dixie Queen - for trying to get in on the orange love.

Davy Crotch Itch - for having to seduce Poon with orange food to please her.

Just Andrew - congratulated for his participation in the Special Olympics Ice Skating Competition.  Attempted triple axel, a bit short on the rotation and just couldn't stick the landing... a huge deduction in points.  That's really gonna cost him.

Just Pavonka - reading the license plate on the beer truck [DRKORLT] says "does that say Dork Alert?"  truer words were never spoken.

Just KC - one of our beloved virgins learns his first painful bedroom lesson by getting Just Megan's name wrong.  And later, running off into the woods to have s*x on trail, by himself.

Mowgli - excited about popping cherries, and obviously the closest he'll ever come to that, given that he was referring to the jell-o shots.

Just Megan & Mount Me Tender - for "loving the hot, sticky, sweet chocolate"

Poon - on her knees with Just Pavonka, s*x on trail.

Udder Ho - for running out of Herpes creme.

Davy Crotch Itch - for his Canadian Avenue Q hat

just Stephanie - late defector from Kickball, where I was team captain, and she wasn't smart enough to avoid groups where I have a management role.

Davy Crotch Itch - visits the sperm bank so often they apparently give him a "can" for his deposits, rather than shot-sized containers.

And now I will test how many of you read this far by announcing that I have three testicles.

On-On to bigger and better s*x on trail,

Cradle to the Dreidel (your scribe impersonator)

Things that make you go 'hmmm':  (Courtesy of Udder Ho) Can you create too many visuals in a blind joke?

Discuss.

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