Run #1053 - The Really Long Live Hare Run that Half of us Missed Half Of and We Did Some Karaoke Too

June 17, 2002

Hares: Doris Day, Krusty, Eats His Own
Where: Hannibals Pub, 708 - 16 Av NW
Attendance: 59

I will do my best. The hares were Krusty, Doris and Eats His Own. I wish I was that flexible.

I vaguely remember circling you lot up around 7:15 in the carpark of Hannibal's Pub on 16 Ave. There were some announcements. There were some new boots, visitors and archives. In particular, Batman came out after a long absence. We haven't seen him for a while and the sentiment was mutual. The hare announcement was on a piece of paper from the hares and read something like,

Isn't English a glorious language for expressing one's true feelings? And, they're off! Where? Well, um, anywhere really. North, South, East, West, hell, we would have flown if we'd thought it would have found us a trail. Note to hares of the future: Part of setting a trail is markings, those quaint little symbols that help us poor dumb sheep interpret your desires. Please remember this when it's your turn. I shouldn't be too hard on the hares, they apparently set this run dressed up in convicts outfits and with their legs chained together. It couldn't have been easy, laying trail and soliciting at the same time.

Eventually, a fropper (WetOne?) found a check, marked in flour, East of the pub. Oh, good. More looking for the trail, but at least we know what the marks are and we have a vague direction. Silly us, looking at the chalk H's from the other 428 runs we've had from Hannibal's. Baa, baa, we are the lost sheep....... On in a wandering Easterly direction, through suburbia. King Shit found some stunned members of the great unwashed and they managed to stammer out that three weirdos in convict garb with leg-irons had run past Peter's, screaming and yelling and squirting flour everywhere. ONON! For a brief period, there was an abundance of marks. Obviously someone's flour container had sprung a leak because they ran out. Some time after Peter's, The Brick and more amazed observers we made it to the first regroup, spectacularly marked on the pavement. People dribbled in over the next 20 minutes, having wandered in and out and around the backlots of 16 Ave. Apparently the house belongs to a friend of Doris Day (the hare, not the real one) and he showed great foresight by being completely absent when we showed up. After a few beers, burps, and "Where the f@#%ing hell are the marks?" we were off again.

This is where it gets tricky. About half of us, checking our watches and examining our thirst quotient, interpreted the lack of marks as a sign from God and ran straight back to the pub. I was a part of this group. The rest apparently found a trail (where?) and did the other half of the run, which had another regroup. The only thing I know about the second half is that it made for a long run and Xena the Warrior Princess injured herself. Normally she goes ass-over-teakettle on winter runs on the ice, but she evidently decided "What the hell, it's a nice warm night, I'm gonna do something silly".

The RA's had a very good idea for the down-downs. There was a sort of raffle. If you were called up, you had the option of dipping the hand in a basket of tickets, and you could win something (or not). That's how I ended up scribing. I was given a down-down for my 100^th run (doesn't time fly when you're having fun?), elected to dip and was awarded "beer and scribe" instead of just "beer". The most memorable down-downs went to Xena and Sorry. She was given a down-down for injuring herself (the Hash manifests sympathy in strange ways). She dipped into the trove of tickets and came up with "Big Beer". One 69-sized mini-yard coming riiiiiiiight up. An excellent job swigging it too. Sorry was given a down-down for something (being a grubby little pervert, I think) and he ended up with "beer and spanking". Fortunately or unfortunately for him, he was the recipient. Out with the fur-lined bat and a resounding 5 whacks from one of our recently added Hasherettes, who's name escapes me but swung the paddle with clearly a practiced hand. I'm sorry, I don't remember the rest of the down-downs.

Then the, er, singing started. Dreary kicked off with "Born to be Wild", Smirk and King Shit gave us a great rendition of "Stroke It" and Pull-It delivered a whole bunch of songs with aplomb.