The hash started as most hashes do, me lost calling the hare. Bama’s grand plan for avoiding Po Po backfired until Burning Asshole was sent off as sacrificial virgin to direct traffic, deter Po Po, and offer much needed *job* assistance. A good thing too, turns out Cliffy took full advantage and got his *job* early and often.
Apparently word got out that Bama might be involved and a goodly portion of the pack, cough Pornogenic and Red faced pink slip, showed up in civilian attire. Clearly they were in trouble.
At 26 miles the hash was promised to be a glorious test of endurance, length and mental fortitude. Our hares were masters of the run, primed machines that were prepared to make the pack quiver in exhaustion. They left and we got Bama, Just Shirley, and BA instead.
4 beers and a shot in I seem to recall something about a Just’s adventure on a certain marathon. Why bore the readers with a tale of green pea soup, poison oak err leaves, lack of foresight, and his thumb….. eww. To protect his identity lets call him Just Dougg.
So the hares set out, trailing blood and red anthrax, expertly telling us to turn around and “don’t peek”…
The first 13 miles I must have blacked out, it was almost as if I was teleported to Maggiano's after only 10 or so blocks. Most hashers did not partake of the bathrooms, if you had you might have gotten an embroidered hand towel too of which I snuggly cherish.
The latter half of the 13 miles consisted of run 3 blocks, salt lick beer stop, run 3 blocks, car beer stop, run 3 blocks, bar beer stop. That just might have been the best hash run we’ve ever had.
Cliffy quickly set us into circle when the pack arrived in full. The rest is a blur, something about Bama having mostacolli, chex mix, Double Ds, pool, Canuck mackin on chicks, Shirley having hot friends, pool, debauchery, and Famous laying out most of the grub. Look at the pictures and leave me alone. I got a hangover.
Good hash and HAPPY 21ST BIRTHDAY JUST SHIRLEY AND BURNING ASSHOLE!!!!