Location: Touro Park, Newport
Date: Oct 29, 2013
Pack of Gouls: Basket, WIPOS, Rusty, Donkey Punch, Ass Quack,
Gobblin's: Crabby Shag, Pussy Galore, Crotch Tiger, Dog Meat, Pubic
Back Sliders: Krisco
Visitors:Easy Entry, Bi-noc-ulars, and Snoozing/Floozing (Rotten Groton
H3), Arline and boyfiend (?) (NH3)
TRUE!-nervous-very, very dreadfully nervous I had been and am; but
why will you say that I am mad? The disease had sharpened my senses
-not destroyed-not dulled them. Above all was the sense of hearing
acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things
in hell. How, then, am I mad? Hearken! and observe how healthily-how
calmly I can tell you the whole story.
It is impossible to say how we felt, standing there by the Newport Round
Tower in Turo Park, the pack of gouls and gobblin's were a stark contrast
to the "City of the Richest 100": the Astors, the Vanderbilts, Edith
Wharton, JFK and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, Doris Duke, and Claus
and Sunny von Bulow. But that was then and now the city, if you can call it
that, is a swill of cast-ashore Navy, ex-NH3'ers, wedding planners and
property management, and the like. They say the tower is haunted, but
tonight if was surrounded by RIH3'ers, most in costume. One was not, a
transplant, pretty enough to be excused, and was that the Hare in a kilt???? What-the-hey, somebody 'splain what a costume should be.
The Hash started a few minutes late and gave DM, Hairy and I enough
time to be the last arrive, but not for WIPOS. The Rotten Groton folks were
there in time, and it was a pleasure to see (the tits of) Easy in a pirate
costume that almost held her in. Krisco finally showed and a couple of
ex-NH3 were there to hear the Hare's Chalk-talk. At 6:47:19 sharp we
were off on the cold streets of Newport.
The trail, cuntingly conceived by
the Hare, twisted and turned down alley and thoroughfare so completely
that I was in front and yet did not know where I was going. That I could not see
the faint chalk marks along the road, on stone walls and telephone poles was little hindrance to me.
Time after time, I chose the correct path. It is impossible to say how first
the idea entered my brain; but once conceived, it haunted me. Object
there was none. Passion there was none. I loved the speed my feet could
allow me to be when I called OnOn to the pack. You should have seen
how wisely I proceeded-with what caution-with what foresight-with
what dissimulation I went to work! . Never before that night had I felt the
extent of my own powers-of my sagacity. I could scarcely contain my
feelings of triumph. But it would not last, nay in the yard behind the Library,
I lost trail, ran completely around the building, almost twice, before I saw
the faint light from someones headlamp across the field. Eventually, I
caught up with the DFL's and we made our way to the pub for the Beer
The bar was like any other bar in Newport, except we were there and yet,
not, as the costumes we wore brought out the personalities we portraid,
except for Shemale, how well he stays himself. He chose to pick on one
small female of our group and almost made her cry. Even so, I refrained
and kept still. I scarcely breathed. I held the lantern motionless. I tried how
steadily I could maintain the ray upon the eye. Meantime the hellish
tattoo of the heart increased. It grew quicker and quicker, and louder and
louder every instant. The old man's terror must have been extreme! It grew
louder, I say, louder every moment!-do you mark me well? I have told you
that I am nervous: so I am. And now at the dead hour of the night, amid the
dreadful silence of that old house, so strange a noise as this excited me
to uncontrollable terror. Yet, for some minutes longer I refrained and stood
still. But the beating grew louder, louder! I thought the heart must burst.
And now a new anxiety seized me-the sound would be heard by a
neighbor! The old man's hour had come, I spoke up and told him it was
The solitary glass of beer was finished after some singing, and the Hare,
nervous that we may over-stay our welcome, proceeded to explain the
marks would be found at the corner on the left. Each of us, emptying our glass, proceeded out the door. Again, I found myself in the lead, this
time with Crabby. As I might turn the wrong direction, she pointed out the
error of my ways; 'that's an wharf", or "that's a dead end street", eventually
we both found ourselves on a corner, with the pack not far behind. The marks were a faint to Krisco, Dog Meat, WIPOS and some RGH3'ers and the NH3 couple, as they were unable to follow and missed the circle.
The requisite DD's were given to the Hare after a polite wait for the lost Wankers. Visitors, Back Sliders and the costume winner (guess? Think big puffy breasts in a pirate costume.) The run was rated a -69 despite many positive remarks. OOzing won Hashit. His reply for the gift was confusing at best, but suited the theme, "Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God!-no, no! They heard!-they suspected!-they knew!-they were making a mockery of my horror!-this I thought, and this I think. But any thing was better than this agony! Any thing was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die!-and now-again!-hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! "Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed!-tear up the planks!-here, here!-it is the beating of his hideous heart!" The OnOn was at KJ's and it was there we met with the lost tribe. Food, beer and songs were enjoyed until it was time to call it an evening.
B3 for OOzing maybe next time he'll do it himself.