Lynchburg Red Dress: The Run and the Party

After that sound rejection (boo hoo!!!), I’m hunting down coffee to re-energize me (I’ve missed the free hotel stuff since I was busy prepping) and manage to wheedle some black coffee from a kind hasher with a thermos. Of course, my coffee isn’t complete without a little extra added to it! I pull my specially engraved flask from my pocket and pour a good 2 shots of Captain Morgan into my coffee. Perfect!!

I warn multiple hashers, though, “In a ½ hour, you’re gonna wanna stay far, far away from me! Both the caffeine and the rum will kick in around the same time.”

The spiked coffee may be the principle reason that I survive wearing only my tiny, spaghetti-strapped, cocktail dress in this 34 F weather. I’ve got a fire in my belly! I don’t feel anything now! Of course, the trail is so short that I’m not outside long enough to contract hypothermia. Which reminds me – the hares lied to us!! Didn’t they say the trail would be 4 miles long and challenging??!!! We got 1 stinkin’ hill and a 1 ½ mile trail! Phooey!! I expect better from Lynchburg!


Ahh…who cares? Let’s party!! As usual, I’m dancing up a storm. However, what’s not so unusual is that my clothes are stripped off me while I’m dancing. And How’s Her Bush removes my shorts and I don’t recall how my bra is taken off. I have a dancing companion, though - I’m given a walking lion king to dance with. He has a big heart on his chest that says, “Grrrr!” Cute!

And have I mentioned that my @ss is black and blue from @ss Ogre spanking it? I believe he is trying to get me to fart. Dude! He called me a flatulent hussy! Why would he want me to fart? Men! Who understands them?!


Now there is a large crowd of Sh*tters who visited the ABC store to purchase liquor and they’re all sitting in the back corner of the room boozing it up. I believe Clean Clam (not a Sh*tter) offers me some Tequila Rose and as much as I love the stuff, I think I better stick with my Michelob Ultra. I’m feeling like I need to hurl (and in retrospect, I probably should’ve – I wouldn’t have felt so crappy the day after). Clean Clam, though, isn’t satisfied after finishing off her 2 bottles, and returns to the ABC store for another. D*mn!! There sure are lots of dead soldiers in that corner of the room – let me stay far, far away. I learned my lesson about liquor at Tex-Mex (You wanna party hard, don’t drink liquor! Or drink it in smaller proportions to beer). However, my inebriation must have been spotted cause Designer tells me that I have improved from early evening – she was worried I would need babysitting. Not today! I’m an independent woman!

Since all inhibitions have been shot to h*ll, I compete in the best @ss contest. Not that I think that my @ss is fabulous, but I think my Supergirl thong is! And whatya know? I actually make it to be a finalist! A skinny girl wins the title though – what’s up with that? No, I don’t know her name, but she isn’t wearing any panties!

Speaking of underwear, is that my bra on the microphone? What the hell?? How did my bra end up there? Am I gonna discover pictures of people trying it on later? No matter, I can’t lose it! (it’s very versatile). Speaking of finding things, I found a stray camera and started taking pictures with it. Eventually, I gave it to Martha Spew-It (I think?) and she held onto it for safekeeping. Did anyone ever claim that camera?

Oh! And Ain’t You’re F*cking Mama is at it again! D*mn, she can sing! For the second time, I get to hear her rendition of “Proud Mary”. Mama, you rock! Of course, the hash band rocks too! I don’t remember their name either…..yep there’s lots of stuff I don’t remember….makes you wonder what I forgot, doesn’t it?