Hash Trash #1163
So for our Memorial Day Hash the barbecue tipped over, someone had to put out Just Crissy by throwing beer on her, and the cops came.
Not really but we definitely got our money’s worth of fine trail and we did name Just Crissy. In fact the trail was so fine many of us did pieces of it over and over again. this was preceded by a warning from the Hares that a certain portion of the trail would use the same area but going the opposite direction. hey no problem right. little did they know that we could transform any part of it to reuse without effort. lesson #1 for newbie Hares: never overestimate the intelligence of the pack.
The mob began to form at the appointed place. After awhile one of the Hares showed up. Sex Apnea, always looking spic n span said he still had some trail to set. the soon to be former Just Crissy arrived and proceeded to lay on her back as is apparently the custom where she comes from. Electric Muff Chuckler graciously took our money. Note that anyone who would like to be Hash Cash need only make an appropriate noise and it shall be done. i should mention that the job comes with groupies.
Others milling around at the start included the venerable and by that i mean old, Couff…. Hosehead and Miracki Freedom, both of whom later tried to get run over by a train shortcutting to the first beer check….. and the persnickety Just Mike, spiffy in custom camo hash gear with Just Mike and BAH3 embroidered by child labor on the breast pockets…. who unfortunately paid attention to the incorrect 8am start time posted in the website the week prior and sat in the parking lot waiting … and waiting…. elated at first….. then anxious… later the reality set in, we weren’t coming. he drove home, dejected. just like in one of those bittersweet stories where we were desperately in love and we agreed to meet somewhere special and he was there alright, but we weren’t because we were in a coma due to being drunk in the alley.
Founding members of the BAH3 SBS thats the shitty beer sect Pump N Dump and Just Rob arrived opened their trunk and dispensed some cheap swill. Later Just Ellen joined us picking though the microbrews looking for Natty Boh at the beer check and circle. So you can see that you can only be in the SBS if you are Hot. I mean besides having no taste in beer or common sense. oh but speaking of hot, Amelia Airhead joined up at last minute auto hashing, still making excuses about how she can’t run because of her back surgery. yawn.
So the second string Religious Advisor came off the bench and proceeded to make a dismal mess of the start (note to self: do not get stoned before being RA). Hash Historian Sex Apnea protested that we were about to go without our Hallowed tradition of the pre trail Prayer…. yes this prayer which dates alllll the way back to when SlowMan introduced it as RA, interspersing the verses with his goofy laugh, then Bobbin turned it into an art form… all within a year or two…. which shows how soon things become the way its always been… but off we go, long time no see’er and swifty Peter Puller quickly disappearing off the front…. into the gated Ft Meade outskirts…. some water, bushwhacking, a bit of mud… ooops down the “wrong trail,” our first of many encounters with re running a section… the dangerous train tracks beer check summoned us within a mile or so…. thence off to an area of ponds and long stretches of flat sandy running…. especially long when you do them two or three times… woods… plenty of paved bike trails…ah and beer check two, casa de Apnea where we met his very nice SO who put out canapes and things designed for normal people…
we depart up hill behind his house… most of us lose trail, circle around and end up at his house again…. Fossil and someone head off on their own… we get a steer from the Hare and head back up the hill meeting Peter Puller and EMC coming in to the beer check from the opposite direction…. we’re off and finding solved checks pointing the direction we just came from…. ignore that…. and like always, eventually everyone makes it On In..
thence to the real business at hand, the swilling of the beers…. and the orange food, some of which even included carrots, like, real food kind of orange food, the kind a mother would feed her children…. . i hope that doesn’t happen again. The Hares were called up and toasted, the FRB was presented to Peter Puller, but former ZZB3 left the bag in someone’s car, so i guess he gets to carry it again…. various miscreants were violated… then to the naming of Just Crissy who took her usual place lying on her back as we asked her pointed questions about her embarrassing bits, in the end it was I’m Done Can I Go Now though the RA couldn’t remember it long enough to properly annoint her. ah well. she’s part of the Slacker Hash.
Services were adjourned and we repaired to the Irish Channel Inn where Crissy works but ZZB3 is a VIP, spending 4 nights a week there and getting his food waay before anyone else. Hi Jinks ensued. Suddenly everyone was run over by a truck. the end.
And now on to next week and the Annual General Meeting, our extra special meeting at which we will announce all sorts of important Hashy things maybe even the new lineup of Mismanagement. So if you want to be somebody important, make a difference, do something useful with your spare time, you might want to avoid that. However if you want to be part of mismanagement, like Hash Cash or Hare Razor, or Hash Haberdasher, or Hash Scribe then speak up, lads and lasses.
See you there
On On
Any Cock’ll Do Me