A baskillion hashers gathered in a parking lot by the Broadway Oyster Bar for Medusa's last hash with the Big Hump. Norman Bates brought Just Randy, and My Friend Flicka found flour (say that 10 times fast) while on a legitimate r*n and joined us as well. We sent Medusa off on her 9th run while the pack descended like locusts into the beer coolers.

Upon her return, Postage Tramp blessed her and co-hare, Meta Arsehole, and away we hashed. Trail was a varietal feast of sights. Medusa and Arsehole led us through housing projects, under railroad tracks, by police stations, an Anheuser-Busch warehouse, and by some cheery homeless people. We were cheery too! Just Randy was especially cheery because he'd been drinking since noon; PMS was cheery because she was auto hashing with all the beer.

Just Gena and Just Matthew joined in somewhere before the first beer stop, where the hashers descended like locusts into the beer. Gena took off running and left her husband to walk with the more insouciant hashers. However, Just Matthew took very seriously the task at hand, "Hey, this is flour." We nodded in agreement. "Here's some flour over here." Yes. Yes. Yes.

There was a hash halt at the Big Hare Sculpture, but evidence of this is non existent, as we were imprudent and left the camera in the beer mobile. I blame society. Norman gave Witty a leg cramp on trail, but I showed her how to spread her legs so it would feel better. There was an impromptu beer stop at Missouri Bar and Grill, but we only had one big glass of beer because the real beer stop was around the corner, where the locusts descended like hashers into the coolers of beer.

Trail took the pack by the big ass library and lots of nifty architecture and statues of birds and lions and kittens and puppies and locusts and Wheeeeeeee! I love animals. We hashed past Metropolitan Square, where PC pretends to work, and a fountain. Duzzy, Just Gena, and TYHAC were the only ones who actually ran through the fountain, as intended by the hares. They had to drink for that.

At the circle, it was obvious that Pornogenic had forgotten to take her meds, and much locusting was occuring at the beer cooler. Whiney Bitch got sick again. Medusa received her 10th Big Hump headband. Postage Tramp made everyone drink for something; so much so that contributions were required so Medusa could have a full hashshit to spill over herself.

All in all, it was just another shitty trail.

We broke bread with our San Fransisco treat for the last time at the on after, The Broadway Oyster Bar. Norman Bates honored Medusa by Allouetting her. (You know, I never noticed that she had a wooden eye until he pointed that out.) Medusa, you will be sorely missed. Thanks for offering your couch if any of us quit our jobs and want some West Coast action.

Dancing Queen, Witty Titty, Meta Arsehole, PC Porn, Duzzy Cum, and I closed the BOB. But wait, there's more: The Beale and BB's Blues and Soups are still open and just down the street! So we closed those too. Later, all hell broke loose.

On-On Madam Yuk