BIG Shit and Twinklebell

At the Wallace Park, asking…So, I’m like who’s the mystery hare for BIG Caca. I’m like, I don’t like this – something smells. Like, Wallace Park is just a playground.

And Pabst Smear was like, cool, playing soccer and feeling sorry all by himself and I’m like that bitch Alley Cat just blew through a stop sign and I’m like, this is Portland, bitch.

And she’s like bitchy with the slutty look, bitch…are you a cop or something. I’m like, no bitch we have laws to follow and this is Portland. Like, people could get kill. I’m like, why do I have to keep reminding and repeating words for people to understand.

And we worried like Gym Nasty got all the good beer and stuff and we like paid five bucks worrying will we ever get the beer and worrying more still like it’s all about the beer. And Fat Tramp who never ever run the Kahuna hash like makes a quick entrance and grab a can of cheap Pabst beer and I’m like Pabst is beer…like cheap somewhat.

So, Reddi Nip like she’s probably weaned her infant from breast feeding like feeling the need to run the hash again, like I don’t know, know what I mean.

So, we all follow trail like around the school building and Flash Dance like he hardly hash at all leads the pack up to yonder hill while Twatsicle and Hydrolicks make sure everybody paid some money for beer. I’m like, that’s hot.

Like, Cream Jean screaming ‘On-on’ lazy looping around the blocks while SLUT Machine tried to grab his weenie while Mystery Schmestry Meat like picks a fight with a midget trying to run down his big fat ass with a Volkswagon.

Later on, after the beer check it was very dark in the wood – like all woods when it’s dark inside so I’m like I have a head lamp. This is not rocket surgery.

And Cream Jean, who is now a Big Kahuna sort of kinda guy leads the pack but all by himself and somewhere got a little lost but eventually a short downhill run to the on in by the upper, maybe lower McCleary Park, I don’t know…like, this is Portland. Like why do they make things so hard to remember so, I’m like fuck that.

Beer was a little slow a-coming so to keep myself occupied, like, making sale on used furniture seems productive but buyers were nowhere any.

And Goodwill Cunting like doing a fucking job as the RA, like every week there is a different RA. Since Gym Nasty has no funds for food except for chips we sauntered to Cracker Bucket for fried calamari and sammies.