LAPDOG wants to run a short circle around COCKY HORROR'S ERECTION!

Run #757

It was a dark and stormy night. I drove up to the Museum of the Regiments slightly excited. After all, tonight was ERECTIONS Night. Date Pith nicely pointed out my lack of having a life when she noticed that I knew everyone that drove up by their vehicles. Thanks a lot! (what's the word that rhymes with witch?!)

Lapdog had arrived back in Calgary and was trying to impress the harriettes with his newfound taste in hash gear. Oooooo, a new t-shirt. How impressive. (I think I'll paint the ceiling beige)

The new boots were introduced to the pack as were the visiting hashers. Since Lapdog had been in the Southern Hemisphere, he instructed us to introduce ourselves in a counter-clockwise fashion. That certainly confused some of us, hey Pole Vault and Three Point Landing?!

Baby arrived in due fashion, after we the completed the introductions. (Late Baby) Typical of Baby, he had trouble parking and almost took out On In, Clutch Bag and Super Soaker. BAD Baby! BAD Baby! (Let me spank you!)

About 50 of us stood around with the forboding clouds looming overhead while Lapdog went ON and ON and ON and ON and ON about erections. Have you ever noticed that people tend to talk at length about something they don't have?! I wonder if there is any correlation here?

Finally the rain started pelting us which meant we could start the run. Over the tanks (I'd rather be getting tanked!) until we came (alright!) to a check. We headed east from the check, into the housing around the base. I haplessly followed Baby who led me right to a checkback! (He obviously likes being spanked, since he was bad again!)

By this time, my glasses were covered in rain and I couldn't see a thing. I had completely turned into a sheep. Good thing I'm amongst friends, they wouldn't steer me wrong. (or would they?!) If I hear the sound of velcro, I'm outta here!

Off we went in a northerly direction for a few moments. (You'd think we'd go, north, south, north, south since this was erection night but, nooooo. Much like the manner in which Lapdog received his name, we ran about in a circle. It also didn't seem to take very long. Only 10-12 minutes for all of us. Is it a Cocky Horror or Kawky Whoreur that ended it so quickly?! At least Happy Hooker was almost satisfied as she stated "10 minutes. That was almost worth getting wet for."

We entered the musuem and when we paid hash cash we received our ballots. (Hypothetical question: If Dolly was at the run, would we have actually had a different tally for the votes?)

The down downs commenced a short time after voting was completed. They were given to the following hashers:

The Hares: Lapdog and Cocky Horror. (Hmmm, I wonder how their down downs will affect the vote results?!)

Dreary and P'Tooey were chosen for the choir (not that anyone couldn't figure that one out! The new chief scribe could provide potential scribes with a template, and these two names could be permanently ass-ociated with the choir!). Wait a minute, there's no sound coming out of their mouths! I must say I found their actions even better than their usual voices! Until Golden Showers joined them in song, anyway.

New Boots: Gordon, Barb, Gordon, Mark, Gordon (oops) and Lynette. Barb was definitely a virgin (drinker). Me thinks she needs much more practice. 

Visitors : Duke (duke duke) of Hurl, Kansass City and PeePee from Victoria. There were also a couple of archives, Cums in Spurts (prophetic night for you, hopefully) and Mute.

Pussy Killer needed punishment because he led the pack through the playground and then (horror of horrors!) did not stop to play with any of the implements. He also tried to drink Knobby's beer (don't you want a bigger one?!)

Grievous offense time! Nipple Detector did not write the hash sheet from last week like he was supposed to, so we didn't have a run report. Pretty heinous although it masked another offense. This one isn't quite as bad I suppose, although I am sure that Furry Thing was disappointed. Lost It, who was unable to attend the previous weeks run, which meant no hash sheet that week, did not produce said hash sheet even at this weeks run. We have been sheetless for two weeks now! What is this world cumming to?! (Penthouse, obviously)

Lost It wasn't even pointed out (until now) and Nipple Detector only received a down down. Apparently even though he is very deserving, there is actually someone else who is more deserved of the hash shit. Stay tuned for further details. (Not Skewbic Hair again, I hope!)

Dastardly was seen shortcutting a 12 minute run. My mind is numb at that thought. (or maybe it is the beer) Was it really too long for ya?

Krusty received a down down for being pussy-whipped. Exactly what is wrong with that?!

Woodstock lost his hat. It appeared to me that Wet One found it and had it strategically placed somewhere on her body. I can't believe he got beer for that when I didn't get any for losing my underwear in Edmonton! (Thank you, Happy Hooker for returning them safely to me during this run!)

Keg has decided to leave us and move to Edmonchuk for the SAME reason that Rubber Bump-her left. What?! He has a BOYFRIEND?! (sorry Whiteballs!) I wonder if Head First knows that? He got to share in a double decker with Happy Hooker, whom we have apparently taken in trade. Hmmmm. A woman for a man. Doesn't seem quite right to me. Maybe next time we ought to ask for Cross Dresser. That way, we'll have a hasher that can satisfy anyone.

It was at this time that Lakey took over because of a few happenings during the Northwest Hashage in Fairmont two days previously.

King Shit was downed, well, for being King Shit. Apparently he was unable to run in Fairmont because he got drunk Friday (no, say it ain't so!) and gave an Ehhh Harriette a ride (on him). It wasn't such a good idea to run downhill in the dark at 2:00 am in uncharted territory, was it KS?! He twisted his ankle, fell down, and the harriette also went down (at least she went down on him!)

Tiny Bubbles drank for something that could only happen to him. Pissed up as usual on Friday night, he decided to head back to the bungalows where the hash was staying. Except that he had no idea where that was. He knew enough to crawl to the highway (the road must go somewhere, right) and proceeded to stagger in the opposite direction. If he had not been picked up by Lumberjack, he probably would have made it to Banff by morning! One must also wonder about LJ. Is he so desparate that he will pick up anyone?!

Bobbin Robbin attempted to be valiant by stealing all manner of hash shit, bed pans and banners that he could get his hands on. Trouble is, he kept giving them back. Finally, he managed to hang on to the Trinidad banner and keep his (our?) honor.

We had a couple of re-namings. Speed Bumps (a COGS name) shall henceforth be known as Not Too Deep at CH3. Any wonder that Knobby named her?!

Mute also received a new hash name because Knobby laughs at Newts. (does anyone understand the correlation because I don't) We shall now call him Pissed As. I am assuming that Knobby left it like that so we could use our own interpretation. (Pissed As a newt... Pissed As Tiny Bubbles ...really funny, Knobby. I obviously need to drink more!)

And now it's Hash Shit time, boys and girls! We have all heard time and time again (in fact too numerous to even recall) a certain Hash Master blathering endlessly on about hares responsibilities when setting a run. One item often mentioned was that it is necessary for hares to pick up any flagging that was used on their run. Something about flagging not biodegrading for 100 years, or something, isn't that the case, Lapdog?!

Apparently, the Hash Master in charge of the "Master's Run" (known to the rest of us lowly hashers as the 750th) decided to ignore his own diatribe and (UTTER SHOCK) left the flagging for the 750 and 751 runs out in Kanan asskiss. (sidebar: kudos to Twisted Sister and Hardly who picked up the flagging when they were on a non-hash excursion!!) Anyway, Klinger graciously gave us a bag of ice and Lapdog mounted it. Before Lapdog drank out of the shitgear, P'Tooey enthralled all of us with a story about a condom. (head, who said head?! I'll have some of that!)

Ahhh, a couple of minutes to get lubricated before the main event. Did anyone else notice that On In needed a song sheet to sing ‘Syphillitic Bastard'? $16 a Night (US) was happy that Lapdog 'got there' just in time as she was ready to top up.

Pussy Killer was overheard to say "Guys hate it, but women love it, so what the hell." Good attitude! Pole Vault said to pretend that he was a giant prick. (now there's a strech of the imagination!)

A currently unmentioned hasher walked up to me and griped "I hope you are not writing about me. I am sick and tired of seeing my name in print every week. Yada yada yada." Doesn't that sound like a load of (von) Crapp to you?! I'll give you a little hint, if you are trying to avoid getting mentioned, the last thing you should say to the scribe (besides whining) is "What's inside? Open it up, let's see!" while looking at said scribe's box.

It was noted that the Buffalo was seen wearing the hash shit on it's head once again. Only the tenth time I've seen that. I know, why don't we get a little more original, like von Crapp who has taken to wearing it on his head!

On On to the matter at hand. ERECTIONS! The previous mismanagement received their down downs for mismanaging everything and then we moved on to the results of the vote. But first, here's the layman's guide to mismanagement positions:

Grand Mattress: This is French for Large Mattress. Sometimes known as Grand Master. (large owner of a dog.)

Joint Master: When you look this up in the dictionary, you see a picture of Golden Showers and Hard Ass. No kidding.

Beer Loot: n. Money to spend on beer v. to steal someone else's beer (also known as the King Shit method)

Chief Scribe: the person who can make up the most stories about other hashers.

Hash Historian: Someone who can remember various hard..err, facts.

Hash Spider: New position. Also known as 68.

Hash Flash: People who like to run around showing off their private parts. ( AKA Dreary Syndrome)

Hash Haberdasher: (un)dresses others

Hash Horn: Someone who likes to blow themself.

Hash Mouth: Similar to above. (don't go there!)

Beermeister: When you drink this much, they call you meister.

Hash Cash: Money for Drugs (duh!)

Sexitary: lays around on the job.

On Sex: as opposed to Off Sex. Non-celibate.

24 Hour Relay Captain: sounds rather anal, doesn't it?! Hey, did Lumberjack do this before?!

HUGE DRUM ROLL: The winners of the delicious amber nectar (and our new mismanagers) are:

GM:	Pole Vault
Joint Master:	Knobby (stand up, Knobby!)
BeerLooters:	Whale Wanker, Bobbin Robin, Cpt von Crapp, Smirk
Chief Scribe:	Lost It, Dreary
Hash Historian:	Lost It
Hash Spidey:	King Shit
Hash Flashers:	Mydol, Wet One, Moonshine
Hash Horn:	Dreary
Hash Mouth:	Dreary
Hash Haberdashers:	Hare of the Dog, Nipple Detector
Beermeister:	On In
Hash Cash:	Twisted Sister, $16 a night (US), Shack Shock, Any Cock'll Do
Sexitary:	King Shit
24 Hour Relay Captain:	Lakey

It was at this point that things degenerated. As soon as I saw King Shit start humping Lapdog's leg, I made a beeline for the door and safety of home.

Thong Queue