Day 1:
Nov. 7th, 2003; 8am, just got off.....a 12 hour shift, and ready
for a knuckledragg. Sunny and cool in Arizona, I only hoped it
would be the same in Texas. Well, proof that I shouldn't be
riding after working a 12 hour nite shift, is that 30miles outside
Tucson, I'm pulling over in need of....yeah, that's right....gas!
fUCK yOU! A nice inbred state trooper happens to pull over, and
relieves me of pistol and mexican knife then throws me in back of
the cruiser and off to the gas station we go. With that taken
care of, I can get back to the serious business of hauling ass to
corpus christi.
That's right, there's a party, and I gots to get to it. pretty
uneventful day, which soon becomes evening, and I pass El Paso,
but not before pulling over at a rest stop and snoozing for 1hour,
and then again somewhere east of El Pucho! Everything was going
fine, until the weather began to change, getting dark, cold, windy
and rainy. My plan was to make it to Ft. Stockton and push into
C.C. sat. morning. No such luck. For some reason, the weather
was playing tricks on the moto. and at about 103 miles, i hit
reserve...and then it happened, at first I thought...what would GGJ
do? and then realizing, he would probably blow some trucker for
favors...i opted to not do that. needless to say, nobody will
stop for a stranded biker on I 10 at 8pm at mile marker 169, in
the rain and cold. Not even if he is pushing his bike along the
hwy. Yeah, I know..i know...but I ended up pushing that bitch 4.5
miles to the next gas station with flashers on. exhausted, and
freezing, went to crank bike after gasing ..no joy, battery dead.
greeeeaaat, i'm going to get raped by some hillbilly out here.
about an hour later, some chick jump starts the bike, i ride 10
miles and crash in some podunk hotel. It's 2310 and I've been up
for 30 hours. This better be one hell of a party!
Day 2: Out on the road at 0700 and weather chunnel says it is a
breezy 43 degrees with wind chill 39 degrees. I wonder what it is
at 85mph. it's still wet, when I reach Ft. Stockton at 0800. I
almost opt to rent a u-haul...pussy, but decide not to. it's
balls to the wall, although I'm going to waste more time, stoping
every 100miles to warm up. So there I am, bustin a nut for 100
miles to pull into a gas station, and sit there shivering with a
cup of hot chocolate in my hands. then haul ass some more. This
better be one hell of a party! by the time I reach Junction, Tx.
the weather hasn't changed, I call Guam, he says it's 60 degrees
and dry in S.A. Hell yeah, warm weather. He says he's enroute to
Corpus, well it's on, time to play catch up. I would have caught
him to, if it wasn't for shitty S.A. traffick. In Mathis, the
rain clouds open up again, and it's a soggy arrival at
Knuckleheads. Where Guam, has just arrived less than 5 min. ahead
of me and to my amazement, there's Slut Slinger, that fag did show
up...rain and all. In total there are many people ready to
knuckledragg. of course the majority are out of towners...but what
the hell. with kdh3 representation from Austin, Houston, San
Antonio and of course Corpus Christi...and oh, yeah, Tucson, Az.
P.R.J., Twat'd U Say, Streakin' Freak, S.L.A.P., Cadaver Diver,
Slut Slinger, FUKnave, Guam, myself, Copblocker, Cream Filled,
Tekillya Tits, Obi-Wan-Kaboobie, Sacrilege, No Suckie just Fuckie,
and GROUP SEX out of houston, with her little man.
whim of the pack (since everyone has ridden in rain to get here)
is to get to the beer as quickly as possible, so with the hare and
b-jay boy in the lead, it's off to Porto's house. about 9 miles.
Once in Flour Bluff....yeah, you know where this is going,
everyone made a valiant effort to get the parking down, into
porto's cockgarage.
Let the shit fly!
Twat showed up with a keg of Killians, the S.A. folks bought 4
cases of budlight, and after streakin' stated that he'd get
the shits if he drank the dark beer, we dug in to the beer in true
Flour Bluff style.3 hours later, whilst mildly inebriated, it was
time for a hash. Channel 3 boobs, showed up not to much later.
Pick up style hash, with Streakin' drawing the short straw.
After riding the short bus for so many years, it was inevitable.
Not listening to instructions, of stop when you run out of flour,
and just running off with a 5 min. *ead start, the pack is soon
at his heels..(actually we're all walking and laughing at the
dumbass, since we know he's running his fat ass off) Obi-Wan
Kaboobie gets chased by some Huskies, Sacrilege takes a hard fall
in the mud...we all get lost, and finally circle back to the
on-start. Distance: 1/2 mile. Sweet! Let religion begin...and
what I would like to dub, "The Circle of a Thousand Down Down's"
after being challenged to get the cops called on us, when Porto
said they wouldn't show up in Flour Bluff. We began to sing every
goddamn hash song we know, as loud as we could in the front
driveway. With Porto on the ice, for whatever we could think of,
and Slut on the ice for just being gay, and Gorilla down down's in
full force the beer began to dwindle, this was gearing up to be
one hell of a party. Made funnier still when Streakin' made his
way over to the neighbors car, and pissed in the window. It's
okay, though, since the little bitch that owns it (according to
porto) is in jail. Well, after releaving themselves several
times, it was time to present the b-jay boy with his gift.
sidenote: when in Rocky Point, GROUP SEX had worn a pair of
socks for 2 days straight and they smelled like rotten
ass...naturally. so she put them in a ziplock baggie and forgot
about them. Only to find them 2 days before porto's b-day. not
wanting to waste a good thing, we came up with a gift idea. we
would nail shit to a board in rememberance of that fateful 3 hour
tour. REasons: #1. because it sounded cool while we were drunk.
#2. we are cheap lazy bastards. #3. he already has whipped cream
and condoms. #4. what better way to get rid of junk than to make
it a present. So GROUP SEX's Socks, Cadaver Diver's Piss (in a
hermatically (sp?) sealed peecup) a beattle stapled to the plank
in memory of yoko ono (ranger), my moto. mirror, which broke off
on the way down to c.c. as his did enroute to tucson. and everyones
signatures, with the promise of 7 years of not getting laid, if he
even thought of throwing this away. (photo's soon to be posted)
Reeligion:
KDH3 Hare: P.R.J.
Pick up Hash Hare: Streakin ....when one hare drinks...and all
that.
R.A. Gaylord Focker
with help from Cream and others.
Gay: Slut Slinger
B-Jay boy: PORTO
Pissing in the neighbors car: Streakin, Porto.
There is a big blank right about here....so someone give me some
stories.
...now seriously, I don't remember too much more, so someone get
me some info. from the rest of that night, I do remember, that we
sang up jumped the monkey, finished 4 cases of bud-light, who
knows how much of the killians, and by the time we finished circle
4 hours later, we were ready for......NAKED JENGA...that's right,
don't ever underestimate the power of stupid people in numbers.
2 more hours, of trading clothes, getting naked, wearing peoples
underwear on our heads (yeah, i said it) and then off to bed.
where Slut slinger (read: princess) scored the best bed, and then
slept alone. wouldn't even let cadaver in to see him, not even
after he traded clothes with twat'd u say, and begged for it.
time: 0310
day 3: SHIT, it's only day 3. hungover. the austin boys take off,
guam, takes off, and i'm left there to ponder the 1000 mile trip
home. time for some bbq, and after convincing GROUP SEX, that she
needs to go hash in San Antonio (when in doubt, get others to
follow along) ...we all decide to haul ass. (Didn't make the
Austin Hash, as those dudes, start at 1300, and San Antonio starts
at 1530..huuummmm, which do you think i'll do) besides it's closer
to S.A.) Some bbq at knucklheads, and then it's Streakin' Freak,
S.L.A.P. and myself braving the elements to get to S.A. So
the crotch rotchit brothers, pass me up somewhere outside of
corpus, and I proceed to fall in behind them...maybe about 90mph,
not bad, little traffick. then the monsoons come, and all i can do
is laugh at these homos, since they don't have rain gear. i pull
over, slip the condom on and get back on the road. pulled over in
pleasanton for gas and about 20 min. later, they go flying by, it
seems i passed them somewhere in between. arrive at S.A. hash
start, and latch onto beer truck right away, and then run (read:
amble, saunter, meander, sashe....walk) the second half of the
trail...with the crotch rotchit boys) After riding on S.B.D.'s
lap to get my bike, it's back for........
reeligion: with Cream Filled presiding, and about 40 other
wankers in full swing.
It wasn't long before i was in the circle...for a false
accusation..of course, only to be accused of being a clepto...only
because i cum from corpus christi. The nerve.
with the pseudo mantle securely placed around my shoulders,
accusations begin...I would like to add right now, that my stop
watch was set at this precise moment, and exactly 4min and 58 sec.
later, the sacred pseudo mantle (S.A. won't bring out the real
sacred mantle when corpus hashers are present) was gone. HA!
sat on the ice...actually slid off the ice into a nice pile of
dirt...with jungle pussy latched onto the mantle like it was her
favorite play toy, and then lots more beer. the rest is hazy. off
to crabby jacks, for food and beer..then to the jungle palace,
with S.B.D., E.Z., G.S., and J.P....with extra tall gin and tonics
and some eat-me-mame (edamame)
DAY 4: Monday, lounge around all day, and off to flying saucer at
night for beer and trivia night with the SAH3. where they make
the mistake of asking the mexican about european geography and
shit.. hahah, suckers. they didn't win. ooops
Day 5: Long ass ride home. Made it to Tucson from San Antonio.
930 miles. no ass left...it looks like a flat iron skillet, and i
had to pull out the sharpie and mark myself (draw a line on my
ass).
total miles 2169 round trip.
parties: 3
stranded on side of road: 2
KDH3: 1
on on to Taos
Gaylord Focker - KDH3
oh, yeah, and FUUFF