“A Drinking Club with a Swimming Problem”
With their reputations for LONG and HARD…….trails…… preceding them, the hares Locknut and F*ck Me Rudolph did their best to stay aHEAD of Mother Nature and lay a trail that would not be washed away on this slightly damp evening. Mostly, I think they just tried to drown the midgets [a fairly decent plan since most of the hash falls in the midget category and that leaves more beer for the ogres and average-sized folks] and make some of the racists actually earn their beer.
We circled up, and a goggle-wearing LockNut gave a chalk talk for three virgins that washed away before we even did a grope shot. Rudy was uncharacteristically quiet but that was probably because he was adjusting the respirator on his SCUBA gear. I did catch a warning to not take remote entry keys on trail and that turned out to be a good recommendation. You know, since the hares never lie. The hares were quickly away and we turned our short attention spans to the naming of Just Ben. We got a TON of good information during his questioning as he was more than willing to give us lots of detailed stories about his life. As a child he was responsible for procuring semen from Black Angus bulls. After life on the farm, he briefly joined the circus and then moved on to computer programming. He loves his job and offered to help anyone in the hash who needs help with their computer. He especially loves hard drives. According to Rudy. Turns out he was also the inspiration for the main character in a little movie called the Big Lebowski and has a fondness for Grandmas.* It was noted that he is recovering from an unfortunate curling iron accident.** After a rude interruption by a shiny red corvette***, Just Ben shall forever been known in the hash as Bend Over Granny. On-Out!
The Eagle trail went one way and the Turkey trail went the other, and at some point they met at the creek. That was flooding. On-In we went, into the ankle-deep water and I heard Gei Blade say, “Oh! The tip of my balls got wet!” That was the last I heard from him until this morning’s comment section where I realized he must have missed the beer stop in order to get some tighty-whiteys to keep his balls from dragging in the creek. We continued for about 40 days and 40 nights to the tune of Just Kim who was blindly splashing around**** asking every 5 seconds “has it been four miles yet?”. If there was other debauchery on trail, I missed it…someone mentioned they thought they had leaches from being in the water and my head exploded. I thought naked SkunkChaser was the scariest thing I’d encounter at a hash.
Mother Nature got the best of the Hares and most of the pack who had to abandon true trail and cranium back to circle via Gravois Road. It is possible that some of the pack also got carried back by the mosquitoes from the beer stop. We got back to circle, only to find that there was NO BEER. How did the Beer Meisters not get at least a Pint of Lager for THAT?! Problem was solved, the usual crimes were punished, the Po-Po made their appearance*****, birthdays were celebrated, FSAS got her 50 run cranium band and we swung low.
All in all, just another shitty trail.
I CUNT HEAR YOU!!!!
[that was for MudPacker who reminded me that we’re supposed to YELL our names when the RA asks, “Who are you?”]
**If you say there are good stories, you should actually TELL them, lest the facts be
altered to suit the hashscribe.
***Public Fornicator led a small prayer of condolence for the corvette driver’s penis.
****Who took off her glasses so she wouldn’t lose them in the rapids of the
*****Apparently, one of the reasons circle attracts Po-Po is because it resembles a
gang-fight configuration. Personally, I can see how the plunger-toting, soaking
wet, picture-taking, parking lot-peeing, barefoot hashers might sound the alarm.
[The first rule of Fight Club is? …….]