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Wednesday 03/26/2008 #696

Whiney Bi+ch - B-day Trail - No Pavement! @ Bridgeton Area

Hash Trash:

Well, I love a rainy night.  I love to hear the thunder, watch the

lightning, when it lights up the sky.  You know it makes me feel good.

 

Well, I love a rainy night.  It's such a beautiful sight.  I love to feel

the rain on my face, taste a beer on my lips.  In the moonlight shadow.

 

Showers washed all the marks away.  I'll wake up to a sunny day,

'But I love a rainy night

Yeah, I love a rainy night

Well, I love a rainy night

Well, I love a rainy night

 

Ooh-ooh

 

 

Ooh-ooh is right Eddie.  For some reason, when the weather is at it's

worst, that's when hashing is best.  I showed up early on Wednesday to the

Hotshot's parking lot to find not a hasher in sight.  I got nude in my car

and then put on what I could find in the back that might protect me from

the downpour.  This turned out to be worthless, save not getting arrested

for being pantsless.  I knew I was going to get wet, but wanting to stay

as dry as possible for as long a possible,  I bellied up to the bar for a

warm-up.  After a while, I was joined my Pornogenic and Dicksmith.  They

appreciated my enthusiasm, but were not dressed to get wet.  They took off

to see the Cowboy Junkies instead.  Boy would they miss out!!  Eventually

hashers started to roll in, 15 in all I think, and we knocked back a

couple.  Whiney Bitch was no where to be found and it was 7:00.  There

were rumors around the group that we should just stay inside and get

drunk, but I didn't drive all the way to West County to drink in a bar

full of Catholic School girl waitresses.  Or did I?

 

Whiney's caddy was spotted through the downpour, so we decided to brave

the elements and circle up.  There were no Justs and no Virgins, but

Whiney still gave a us a chalk talk as a refresher.  Besides he said, the

marks would look different than normal and demonstrated by throwing a

handful of flour on the ground only to have it immediately scattered and

washed away.  We gave him a 10 minute cranium start before giving chase.

Across the road, through the rain, up a hill, where's the fucking cake?

We found trail and followed it into a Cul-de-crap, but strangely, we

couldn't find a way out.  Maybe the hare took us in here but realized the

same thing.  Or maybe the marks just got washed away.  Or maybe he was

just fucking with us.  Whatever way, we found true trail, but not before

Pees Like a Princess did his best Jesus impersonation and tried to walk on

ditch water.  He did not succeed, but instead shouted, "My balls are all

wet!  No really."  The Hare took us up more hills and mud to the beautiful

scenic lookout of the Airport.  Nothing like being wet on the tallest part

of Bridgeton during a lightning storm.  Many a shout of "I don't think the

hard stuff is gonna come down for a while" and "I'm having the best hash

ever" could be heard from the half-minds.  Wet, dripping, and thirsty, the

pack found their way to the Beer Stop under a pavilion.  And wouldn't you

know it, guess when it stopped raining?  I managed to keep my cigarettes

dry, but my lighter did not make the journey.  We shivered, drank some Bud

light, and elected Do My Butt as the new RA in our impromptu mismanagement

meeting.  Congrats Do My Butt!  You'd better learn those songs.  I'll

teach you.

 

After a couple of beers, the pack left and it started raining again.  This

hasher grabbed a ride with I Have A Dick, Dewey Sexual System, and Nurse

Hashshit.  Hope there weren't any chick checks on the second half of

trail, because I had almost all of them in the car with me.  We went back

into the bar and met some dry wussy hashers Funny BoneHer, Just Angela,

and 2 Fuck Canuck.  Before we could get through our first beer, the pack

was back and eager to circle up.  Everyone was accounted for, except

Princess who was last heard yelling that he was going to catch a cab.

Nurse Hashshit was worried that he had tried to attempt ditch walking

again and met his ultimate fate, so she set off after him.  We kept

drinking.  Doritos were eaten, Stag was drank, and the pack enjoyed one of

the shortest circles ever.  Now don't get me wrong, I love long circles,

but I had had about enough rain.  Hashshit nominations shouted out.  Cliff

Bangher for having a girlie umbrella, Whiney Bitch for trying to kill us

with mother nature, Disco Ass for his fear of wet feet, and Princess for

having holy delusions and for being the only hasher to get lost on trail.

Princess won in absence, but showed up just in time(thanks to Nurse) to

prove that 'Whatever doesn't go IN you goes ON you' and dumped my stag

over his cranium.  The pack then saw Postage Tramp drive up and swung low

faster than they've ever swung before.  All in all, it was just another

shitty Whiney Bitch all pavement no shiggy wetter than Princess's balls

trail!  ON-ON!

 

GladHeAteHer

 

 

Ps. it was also Whiney's birthday or something.  We did Crown shots in

celebration.

 

Pss.  Keyless Entry

 



Big Hump Hash House Harriers - St. Louis, Missouri - Established 1999