A thoroughly pleasant summer evening at Fox Park turned into an immediate clusterfuck as the walker’s trail disappeared no sooner than it started. As usual, Beaver took way too many goddamn pictures along the trail. Perhaps less usual, Is It Inuit was busted no fewer than 3 times while furiously masturbating in dumpsters. It wasn’t that impressive.

Back on trail, as the runners cruised around South City, the walkers stumbled aimlessly. The beer halt at Sweet Ho’s place turned into a full-on easy breezy beer stop after which point the runners were so far ahead that they drank all the fucking beer at the actual beer stop at Free Mustache Ride and 2:19 from Chicago’s. I have no idea what actually happened there, but the runners ate all the goddamn ice cream, too. Cunts.

By the 3rd and final beer stop at casa de Strap On I was pretty fucking schmammered, but the Big ‘ol Titty Committee (Humping, Sweet Ho, and Eye Swallow) treated us to a lesson in the virtues of the knockout bra. Made me wish I had a big set of boobies. Even us drunken butt pirates in the crowd liked it. Three beer stops at hasher’s houses is pretty cool.

We meandered our way back to the park for circle. Garage a tois and Eye Swallow got some huge fucking bags for their 200th runs. Some other shit probably happened, then we headed to my favorite part (on-after) at one of my favorite bars (Tick Tock Tavern). Ate some mediocre hotdogs and some badass mac and cheese. Drank more beer. I’m guessing Betty drove me home. Gracias.