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Hash Trash – Trail # 322 “The Trail is WHERE? Trail” 8/26/2008
Hares: Fire in the Cornhole, Wookin’ Pa’ Nub, Just Abby, Beer Bitch
It was a dark and stormy night as the wankers made their way to the start. Lightning was streaking across the sky, dogs were howling, babies were crying, dogs and cats were living together – mass hysteria!
Oh wait, no it wasn’t. It was actually quite pleasant. There were birds chirping, flowers blooming, babies cooing, little fluffy clouds floating by, dolphins blowing bubbles in the air…
Ok, ok… It was nice out and we’ll leave it at that.
The hash got off to a rocky start when we pulled into Hooters parking lot only to find Bitch, Where My Money? telling us to go somewhere else for start. Sadness ensued as we drove AWAY from Hooters (yes, I’m a chic but I still enjoy a nice set of hooters!). Anyway, we reassembled across the street in a less conspicuous location.
Free Pu$$y to Good Home opened circle. Or at least she tried. We ignored her first call and then slowly assembled in an abstract interpretation of a circle. She sent the hares away and the pack continued drinking. A disturbance occurred as Just Kelly and Just Debbie were brought in to the circle for wearing new shoes. WTF? Their sponsors are idiots (sorry Typical Woman and Just Matt – but I call ‘em like I see ‘em – train your virgins right next time!).
Anyway, we promised to deal with them after trail and sent them back out of the circle. A short Father Abraham followed (I hate that song) and the pack was off. We ran through some woods and then through some parking lots and then randomly jumped from a path, across a street and picked up trail going in the opposite direction. Not quite sure how we found it, but apparently that was the way to go. At this point, we entered, “The Creek.” What does one find in “The Creek?” Lots of fun stuff and by “fun stuff” in mean vile creepy crawlies, flesh-eating brambles, prickles that will gouge out your entrails, stenches that will sear your nostril hairs and scary people called hashers.
We wandered through “The Creek” until we couldn’t find trail anymore. At that point, we left the creek and picked up walkers trail. Turns out it was also long trail, but the hare (Nub) only laid walkers arrows on that section so we were confused and wandered aimlessly for some time before deciding to follow walkers. Oh well – at least it led us to the beer check. Hurray. At the beer check we found Fire in the Cornhole, Beer Bitch and Just Abby all scratched up and wet from waist down (well just Cornhole was scratched and wet from the waist down, Beer Bitch and Just Abby were just wet from their noses to their toeses but seemed no worse for wear). Oh, I should also mention that as we were running in we encountered the walkers heading out, backward on true trail. When asked, they stated that they had given up and were shortcutting back to start. That turned out to be a sucky decision on their part since the beer vehicle was still at the beer check and then the decision was made to cut the trail short and end there so the walkers went back to start and sat around waiting for beer that never arrived… I think some of them cried for their mamas before we finally redirected them back to the beer check/end.
The second half of trail was brutal, here’s an account from our own GM, 14K:
“First, I face-planted when I was leaving the creek. Then I hit that loop in the creek underneath 28. I was hitting true trail arrows backwards (I think) and when the trail popped back up it the thigh high grass, you couldn't find flour. Plus, I was out in front and by the time the pack caught up, I clued them in on an intersection they missed, and I tried to cross over the creek to get to the other side where trail must have been. The bank was about 15 feet up. As I scaled the dirt with soggy shoes, I finally got one hand locked on to the top and when I pulled my other hand up to grab some grass, I grabbed a head of a snake. I instinctively/reactionarily threw it over my head and this poor snake went swimming.
By the time I got back on trail, I was able to follow it almost to 28, and then it ended. So I scrambled up to 28 and headed north and went to start.”
14K didn’t have a good night. But he’s old, and old people complain a lot. ;-)
Somehow we managed to get everyone in to the beer check/end (we think) – who knows, Bad Dog could still be out there…
Free Pu$$y to Good Home and Lube Me Up Scotty opened circle with a somewhat less than auspicious start. We brought the virgin (Just Kelly) out and tried to make her drink without giving her a proper demonstration of a down-down. Our bad! That’s what happens when you get two chics winging it! Oh well… Circle continued on with Free Pu$$y recognizing the analversary (Permanently Screwed, 75 runs). Screwed was appropriately ‘wetted’ with his bandana by I Can’t Believe Its Not Herpes. Next came violations. We were too lazy to write anything down so Lube Me Up Scotty took violations from the crowd. Among those violated were the hares (duh), the hares (duh) and the hares (duh). Other violators were some people that I can’t remember. Sorry. See what happens when you don’t write things down? Sign up to be a scribe and write the trash yourself next week (hint, hint, hint). We serenaded Just Sara for her 61st birthday which is today (kidding – I know it’s only your 59th). I also remember that we brought Just Kelly into the circle to drink for her new shoes along with her sponsor, Typical Woman. I was too nice to make her drink from her sewage filled shoes so I tried to let her cheat her way through the shoe ritual, but the pack would not allow it. Luckily, another harriette had a clean pair of sneakers and with a quick swallow Just Kelly and Typical Woman were duly punished for their stupidity. Or not...
Standard Deviant, current holder of the hashit, was called into circle to pass it on. He was pretty slow entering the circle so we thought he wanted to keep the putrid piece of crap, but alas he finally dragged his gray-haired old-man carcass into the circle and immediately nominated the lead hare (Fire in the Cornhole). Always a safe bet to nominate the lead hare for the trail when trying to get rid of the hashit. Newbies – remember that! Fire in the Cornhole immediately re-nominated Standard Deviant for being dumb enough to give the hashit up and then reclaim it during trail. Typical Woman was nominated for not properly training her virgin about new shoes and Just Sara was nominated for a reason that escapes me at the moment. Possibly for bragging about staying dry through most of trail, possibly for her birthday but probably just because she’s cute and the guys wanted to see her in circle. What can I say, they’re pigs – like that’s a shocker…
To make a short story shorter, Typical Woman ended up with the hashit, the hares were properly recognized yet again for their SH*T-ty trail and then were made to lead the circle in Swing Low. It quickly became evident that the only part of Swing Low Fire in the Cornhole can do is the masturbation motion. But is anyone really surprised by that?
ON-ON,
Lube Me Up Scotty
Post Script
The Hashit’s ride home with Typical Woman:
So, there I was, on the metro at 11 o'clock with the prized - not really - hash-it. All was well, I was on my way back to the downtown living I'm accustomed to. Yes, I had some strange looks from those joining my train along the way ... But as long as we made no eye contact, I kept moving closer to my shower with no questions ...
Then, the bladder made a massive protest and Metro Center was the decision point. Do I get off the metro and use a 'public metro bathroom' (which I'd only heard rumors even existed), or attempt to make it three more stops to L'Enfant Plaza? There was no choice, unless I was going to pass off the pee-puddle on the fella next to me.
So, I disembarked the train and walked up to the metro man in the 'octagon booth' ... I asked for the restroom (part of rumor was Metro Center was a 'public restroom stop') and asked for a restroom. He opened the door slowly, all the while keeping an eye on the hash-it. Looking me up from the 'just got in a fight with a wild cheetah' maulled legs, up to the top of the hash-it, he took it all in.
Then asked, 'was there a rally this evening?' ... I chuckled and responded 'this is what a running club gave as a token of appreciation. Like a dowry, only instead of goats and sheep, I got broken megaphones and rusty toilet brushes.'
Yep, that's how I sold the hash-it! He simply shook his head in bewilderment. Then he added, 'that's some token!' To which I responded with 'Yes, yes it is!' As I re-entered the station and gave my wave of thanks, without looking me in the eye he once again shook his head in what I assume was both acknowledgment of my thanks for his letting me use the restroom and that I was the 'craziest thing' he'd seen on his shift tonight.
Once again, the hash comes through!
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