HASH TRASH

This Saturday Hash started off like every Saturday Big Hump Hash: with the expectation that nobody would show up, especially given the weather (more info on that cumming up!).

This Hound started off Saturday by running accross the street to by cheap, stale, craft beer ($2 a six pack, score!). As I walked out of the store I noticed several conspicuous cars parked, but no hashers circling up. So I took it upon myself to park and whip out the good stuff, and the hashers came like ants to a picnic! The hare (known for this hash as 0 $ 0 $ 0$) showed up shortly after that claiming that he would he wanted to "make sure hashers were showing up before laying the beer stop"... showing just how little trust he had in hashers!

Circle started just as the snow started falling and with no virgins or visitors the hare was forced into a quick chalk talk and was told he had 5 minutes before we started chasing him for more beer. it was quickly noted that one of our group, Just Justine, had 20+ hashes and no name, so into the circle she went for questioning! Sadly that girl was like a brick wall and the best we got out of her was that she pushes drugs for a living before the hounds decided to start moving to more lucrative ground: in other words chasing the hare for some tasty beer!

Trail was long, annoying, and not so well marked, so we decided to take a detour through Soulard Farmers Market and over 55 and miraculously found a trail that led us to a Beer Halt of some yummy microbrew that the FRB found just south of the Arch. From there trail was long, straight, and covered in white stuff, taking us along the east side into some shiggy and (as far as this hound knows) virgin territorry. With the falling snow trail quickly devolved into following footprints, which was just fine by us. Myself and leatherballs manged to keep a decent pace, but the racist Just Justine was out of our sight in no time.

We eventually ran over some railroad tracks and back toward Soulard. This hound was just thinking things were going to get better when we started going into a plop-john storage area, with all the pissers we could want! With the plentiful footprints leading up to each pisser we figured that the hare really did have a full bladder that filled up at least 3 port-a-toilets. Thankfully the hare was waiting nearby with a plentiful amount of beer kept cold by the snow, and with a bit of shelter for us to huddle up in (can anyone say old abandoned building deathtrap?).

The beer stop was longer than needed, but we were regailed with a story of heroism and bravery by the walkers! Just Dennis, Stink palm, and Eye Swallow were walking along the shiggy near ther Mississippi when Just Dennis noticed a...peculiar mark on the trees. Upon closer inspection he realised that a mighty beaver had been knawing at them and, upon seeing the culprit, decided to chase (or fall, we're not sure which) down the steep hill toward the river (who doesn't love chasing beavers?). This is the stuff of Legend, sacraficing one's own well being to protect....well I'm not sure what really.

Circle was short and boring, but we decided that a certain Just needed to be named that day, GMs be damned! So forever on from this day forth in the name of Gispert, Dewey, and Locknut Just Dennis will henceforth be known as "Beaver Chaser." I think a few cranium bands were handed out (Ovary punch and Masterbating?) before we decided to retreat to the Budweiser Beer Garden for a tasty dinner.

But wait! There's more! As is usual in the hashing world we proved to out-do Budweiser, as they were closing due to weather by the time we arrived, so we moved to Trueman's for food, followed by the Whisky Ring for more boos (and another hasher's birthday).

Oh, I think there was something about a hasher showing up late and thinking he could find trail, yet failing horribly (and not bothering to try and contact any of us either)....Locknut.

This semi-fictitous, plot hole ridden, mis-spelled hash trash has been brought to you by the one and only,

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