Hash Trash

 It has been such a long time, and it seems that much has happened since last my fingertips waltzed on this plastic keyboard. Where to begin?..

A few words about the Hogtown analversary perhaps? Or should I start with the latest and greatest mismanagement meeting? First things first:

Fleshly minted GM's discuss the merits of pewter vs glass.

Kristal Tits decked out in her old high school uniform.

“What ye got thar under yer kilt laddie!?”

The Hares toast their accomplishment of another successful run through historic Point St Charles. Note Lady Dye's head pokimg out under TFU's arm (his right arm)

Foxy checks out the return of her 'pawned' mug and wonders if she is seeing double.

The newly named '6 of 9' accepts the RA's blessings.

Star of the show - Numskull (NS6?) - apparently just back from Glasgow and on his way back to Taiwan.

Run #274  The Robbie Burns Day Run

Hares: Total F**kup and Eager Beaver

Location: Pointe Saint-Charles

 Wankers present: Dead Animal, Foxy Lady, PVC, 6 Of 9, Yogi, Julius Seizure, Witchy, Flipper, Pop-a-Weenie, LOB, Abbot, Skinflint, Lady Dye, False Penetration, Dingo, Easy Ride.

 Trail conditions: Pathetic. I’ve never seen such piss-poor excuses for markings. The hares should be shot.

OK, now let us analyse the situation. Eager Beaver, who had already set two trails before, but neither of them with another hasher let alone an experienced hasher, was paired up with Total F**kup. Need I say more? Our dear haberdahser may be sweet, but he was named Total F**kup for a reason.

The greenish-bluish liquid used to mark trail was barely visible even when used in industrial quantities. Spacing of arrows and checks was more or less appropriate (when visible). In fact, this raises an interesting question: why is it the most clearly visible were the checkpoints and the false trails. One wonders…

Finally, there were a few questionable choices in parcours, none the least of which was going through the Congregation of Notre Dame nuns’ backyard, and climbing over a fence to go run on train tracks.

Running past the street of the on-in proved fatal, and half the run was missed by most. More on this right below.

The on-in: As terrible as the trail had been, or so whined the masses, all looked pleased enough to be inside the cozy street-corner bar. Beer was consumed as per usual, and we awaited the return of some sick FRBs, Flase Penetration, LOB and the accompanying hare Total F**kup. That’s right, they had decided to do the full run. According to them it was quite nice.

I suppose I could introduce the mismanagement at this point.

The new Joint Masters Abbott and Witchy were both present and accounted for, but missing was the newly-appointed Hash Flash, Mustapha Kunt and his daring sidekick, Dr. Delight. Present and shameful was the Hash Scribe, who had failed to produce anything for the previous week’s run. Permanent-temporary Religious Advisor lady Dye was also present, as were Hash Cash False Penetration, Haberdasher Total F**kup, Hash Mug Person Flipper and assorted morons who either volunteered for things or were to weak to say no.

 The circle went off without a hitch, and this despite introducing a new concept of “accusations”. The person making an accusation has to hold his/her beer up above his/her head (HEAD?.. Who said head? I’ll have some of that! And so I did, and it was good, and then we f**ked, we f**ked for hours! uprooting trees, and shrubs, and flowers, like Vikings, with horns on our heads. Head? Who said head?..) and make his/her accusation. The Jury, the respected hashing members present at the circle, then decide whether the charge is valid. If it is, the appropriate person is awarded a down down. If it is NOT however, the accuser must down whatever is in his/her glass. Pop-a-Weenie gave us not one but two demonstrations of how NOT to do it. He accused me of wearing a hat in the circle. Evidence (see picture) shows that I was wearing gear entirely appropriate for the occasion. Incidentally, this is also the picture where the Numbskull, here on forth known as NS7, was trying to see up my kilt.

Total F**kup created an awkward moment when he started singing a  version of “Mr. Roger’s Neighbourhood”. He apparently was interested in the locals. Maybe he was looking for a hot date. I would just like to suggest voice lessons.

Other highlights:

LOB for returning

Witchy for having her hundredth run mug (finally)

Hares for all manner of sordid things

Foxy for having pawned off her run 200 mug

PVC for getting a new hairdo, but worst of all, complaining that no one had noticed!!!

A second circle was called for the last event, a naming in the true style, with holy water and everything. We have a new member amongst us, welcome 6 Of 9.

Truly, the star of the show was NS7, as the pictures will attest.

“What ye got thar under yer kilt!?”

At this point I would tell you more about Hogtown and how Double Fisted incurred the wrath of a whole busload of hashers, but nah, I’m too tired. Maybe next time.

 As usual comments, questions and suggestions can go to hell.

Krystal Tits aka Gulp