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Wednesday 05/11/2011 #937

Halley's Comet & Snatchsquatch @ Belleville, IL (aka BelleVegas)

Hash Trash:

Rudy, the evenings starting RA, freaking busted me for Hash Trash, so this is my version of the ILLINOIS STENCHO-DE-MAYO WARM UP! by Halley's and Snatch:

I had to fill up the gas tank and leave an hour early to make the trip to BelleVegas. Approaching the empty crossroads of Frank Scott Blvd and Missouri Ave (Hy 15) a Buffalo Wild Wings (BWW) had sprung up next to the highway on a Target Store outlot like a mushroom in a field. Too bad it was not halucinigenic, because the field was definitely full of crap.

On arrival all kinds of backsliders had to reintroduce themselves such as Sex, Urine and Iron Lung; and there hasn't been a gathering of nine running virgins over 21 since...since...ever? (or the last nun run at the Vatican) After inspecting the hares for mud and water I noticed there was NO BEER and it was after 6:30. Thank God it was Dewey to the rescue with cases of cold beer and ice(AB and Stag!) on this most scorching evening of the year (so far). (Translation: It was too freaking hot and humid, too freaking late in the day too freaking soon in the year.)

At circle we were surrounded by so many virgins we thought we were at a Mayan sacrifice. Little did we know we would all be sacrificed to the shiggy gods. The half dead and half live chalk talk by Snatch was incoherent at best. When Winey (un)politely mentioned he had seen over 500 chalk talks and this was was one of the worst; Snatch warmly flipped him off and added a friendly, well-deserved f__k you. However; all the confusing lines, arrows, circles, letters, and flour dots were mostly mute, since it was mostly TP on trail.

Many of the hashers were ready for the 15 wait for the hares to go, but trail was totaly dead (and smelled that way too), so the pack slowly milled around the parking lot searching for hare sine. After maybe 2 flour marks, the trail was mostly TP over the grassly parking lot median and along the road to nowhere. The strong breeze was blowing away the TP, so Halley's ended up as an FRB tossing TP into the wind to keep the pack moving down the "road to nowhere." Winey had some constructive criticisim (tyraids, pushing, and hip checks) for Halley's for not using flour or chalk on the pavement pounding start; and...one of our fastest hares setting a dead trail. A chick check finally rescued us from the pavement to dump the pack into a part muddy, part grassy, part erosion gullied field only to stop at a 6 foot high "HH" HASH HAULT in TP about 1/4 mile from the start.

Next, we were swallowed up by the shiggy. The pack gobbled up bits of TP and flour that were scattered through the thick woods and heavy vines. We were finally greeted with some trails that only led the pack to fields of stinging neetles, poison ivy, and a fallen-log "bridge of death" over a stinking creek. Trail finally led us to a a sewage lagoon lake view at a chick check. Unfortuanaly, some of us missed Dewey releasing the mounds...I mean releasing the hounds, to check. Soon trail popped out into semi-civilization of a field of destruction debris and a neighborhood beyond. Trail seemed to disappear until Dewey found a "BelleVegas BJ Stop" in chalk and the pack stumbled onto 2 cases of water and a cooler of beer in a half demolished, burnt out building basement covered in huge piles of trees, logs and debris. There was a wonderful view of the sewage lagoon from there.

Car hashers pulled up to the " No Trespassing" sign, walked and hobbled down to our covey, as the neighbors brought out thier cameras for future identification on the a Cops Show. That was our cue to bail, but not before this hasher asked for his "BelleVegas BJ" as one lovely tatooed hariette sprung to her partially bionic knees, buried here face in my crotch, and waited for the cameras. Too bad they were so fast to snap the shot.

Spotting a faintly colored chalk hare arrow, the pack was soon away along the lagoon. Finally our FRB hare, Halley's, tried to trick the pack up a shiggy hill at a check; but as ususal, he was too nice and tipped us off. The trail then slogged through the swamp of the sewage laggon overflow and followed well-beating trails around the heavily-secure, very tall razor wire fences. Monistat tried to squeeze through the gaping hole between the gates, but he was not thin enough. (Maybe only Tigs could plung though that gaping hole.

Trail unexpectedly followed a utility marking arrow up a steep shiggy slope and concrete wall only to find the end of the "road to nowhere." As it turns out there was car store and exit to the outer road, but it was still "nowhere!" A bit confused the FRB hare finally pointed out the 6-inch peach/flesh colored chalk arrows the side of the light colored road. More Stealth Markings Please! At the final chick check there had to be a dozen hashers gathered for the awesome view of the round mounds of pleasure from one of our many backsliders. I had to rubber-neck around the pack for a better view, and it was FANTASTIC!

Being overcome with tittys, the pack seemed to sprint towards trail's end back from the road to nowhere. About 100 yard in, this hasher noticed the overwhelming stench of cow, pig or some animals dung and had to pull up to blow chunks (of mostly beer). After the 1/4 mile pavement pounding finish back to BWW, the stench seemed to concentrate as the wind blew in. Maybe the field next to Buffalo Wild Wings is fertilized with buffalo chips.

Being bloodied by shiggy, injected with stinging neetles and poison ivy, and asphixiated by dead animals and cow crap; this hasher hit the Walgreens for some isolpropal and clean air. I could not return without a gas mask, so I went to the bar circleless. AND NOW RUDY WILL REVEAL THE CIRCLE TRASH.

On On,

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