Bama Mate & Running Nose @ Affton/Shrewsberry
Hash Trash: Hash disclaimer: The Big Hump follows all rules and regulations
associated with the Americans for Disabilities Act of 1990, 42
U.S.C. §§ 12101 et seq. That said, Lazy Ass, you are one useful
wheel-chairin' mo fo'er. If it wasn't for you, the elixir of the
saints would not have made it to its intended location. And how
would have we have quieted 27 `Justs'? Not just another Shitty
Trail but a Shitty Trail with so many people, I thought I was at the
Race for the Cure.
We circled up in the parking lot of SW Medical Building. It was a
somber crowd, those returning from the campout Sunday, still
recouping after three days. Postage was punished by the beer gods
by trying to pawn days old kegged beer off on the group. While
tapping, the hose mercilessly prayed the inside of his truck.
That `el teach ya. Bama Mate haring another gd trail with a newbie,
Running Nose. He claims he has never done this before, but if he
was so new, he would have known that 6 miles is unheard of for the
Big Hump. We just don't do that sort of thing. Oh well, Just Kim
was prepared to lead the way with her laptop GPS on her wrist. We
were Chalkis Intruptis by some dude's electric car driving through
our circle but was promptly scolded by Meathead to quit dragging his
extension cord though our activities.
And we were off. Wait a minute, are the hares supposed to be in the
back of the pack? What is this, Freaky Friday? Do I have my
clothes on backwards? Should I be drinking Pepsi? What is going on
here? Our first hurdle, a train that was not supposed to be there
at the time the trail was scoped out. I heard Just Licia giggle as
she got grease all over her hands from touching train parts that she
should not be touching. Trail Lube! We could always use that!
If I had not seen it for my own two eyes, I would not have believed
it. A Virgin, I will call him Chester, wearing Victoria Secret
thongs. Not just any thongs but thongs that showed everything.
What level have we stooped to now? I was quickly informed that 20%
of all VS customers are men, and they wear the items themselves. I
for one like white boy shorts on men but we are an equal opportunity
hash group. Do I have to run behind this? Somebody get in front of
me to shield my sensitive eyes.
Over hill and dale, through the local seminary, disturbing young
priest's prayer hour. Oh well, they'll be out joining us in a few
years. We have a way of corrupting the best of them. I could see
packs of the usual in front of me Hycoxia, PMS's big hair bouncing,
Halley, but I have yet to figure out the over-achievers from all the
Justs. Have no fear, you are being quietly monitored and you too
will do something so damn stupid, your mother will cry herself to
the funny farm. I would love to describe all the exquisite scenery
along trail but I would have to publish Vols 1 and 2 and since this
is a volunteer position (Position, who said position? I'll take
some of that. From behind, on top, and it was good and there was
much rejoicing!) I did see Do My Butt shed a small tear as we
hiking through the dead beetle cemetery. I think we were all
shedding a tear looking for the down down at this point.
Finally, 2 days later, we all rejoined and sang and drank like there
was no tomorrow. In doing so, we ran out of beer. Hashshit promply
awarded to Meathead for looking in the cooler after the announcement
was made. The on after was a blast, good food and good company at
Route 66 but I know it was time for me to hang up my quill when Just
Colin tried to drag me to stage for some Karaoke duets.
See you next week, losers,