Run #1080 - Live Hare, New Hardware

December 9, 2002

Hares: Annie Cockledoo and Nipple Detector
Where: The Blind Beggar Bar & Grill (5211 Macleod Trail S)
Attendance: 59

Having never hashed from this bar there was much concern about what sort of beat up, flea bag bar this might be. Luckily it wasn't chosen by Whale Wanker so it was actually a great place to Hash from. Big enough for the entire group, good food, affordable beer and glad to have us.

Circling up in the parking lot our lusterless Hash Master Skewbic Hair brought a couple of visitors into the circle to be introduced to everyone. There was some Hasher from somewhere and some Harrierette from New Zealand who was apparently checking out the Calgary Hash to see if we measured up. I guess size matters all over the world. I hope her decision to hash with us again isn't hinging on seeing her name in the hash sheet because I have no idea what it was.

Many dull and annoying announcements later, the pack introduced itself to the visitors. It was good to see that Knobslinger's pouting about never hashing again unless he got to return as RA has finally come to fruition. Geez, I always thought it would be Left Bun that Knobby drove into AA.

The run was going to be a Live Hare event and as co-hare ACD described the marks, Nipple Detector made the most of the long, drawn out announcements, introductions and directions to give himself an untouchable head start. I for one don't ever plan to touch his head or any other part for that matter.

Running up through Elboya the trail was made more distinct than usual by not having any check backs. In spite of my insistance to the contrary, Nipple Detector isn't as dumb as he looks. If he'd taken the time to set a few check backs he'd have been caught in short order. And size matters.

After the first playground my memory of the trail lapses as I was rendered virtually blind by some inexplicable flash of light as I exited the spiral slide. I believe King Shit has a photograph of that exact moment so perhaps something in the picture will reveal the source of the blinding flash.

Eventually the trail lead to a lemming leap above Lansdowne Avenue that forced the pack to descend toward Stanley Park.

I always find it interesting how much marketing the City of Vancouver does to promote our little park. I think they tend to mislead people as I've never seen a huge suspension bridge and I'm pretty sure that even on a clear day you can't see the Strait of Georgia.

With a brief interlude of scrambling around in the dark looking for marks or languishing sun bathers beside the river, the trail soon lead up out of Stanley Park into Park Hill. Down off the hill to Macleod Trail the marked lead back towards the bar. Somewhere along the run back in the hare stopped marking and left the rest of us to run for blocks and blocks in a straight line back to the bar along Macleod Trail.

There were rumours circulating about a trail had been marked parallel to Macleod Trail back in a block or two over. Not having seen it for myself I'll have to uphold my journalistic integrity and only report the facts.

Arriving back at the bar it was determined that Nipple Detector had in fact set the entire trail on the weekend and merely hid around the corner as the pack set out, spending the evening swilling beer while ACD was left to sweep the trail alone. Clearly he couldn't have outrun the likes of Krusty so there must have been some nefarious measures taken.

After a fashionable period of delay, the down-downs began. To the salue of "Stand Up Knobby!" the new replacement RA's were put to work. Knobslinger and Neon Stripper will try to fill the sports bra of our recently sober, previous RA, Pull It.

The first and most striking difference was obviously the total lack of respect Knobby commands. Nurtured over years of hashing, Knobby's enduring legacy will be to have been the RA heaped with the most abuse of any quasi-elected mismanager. Now in the reprise of a role he played years ago, new generations will be able to mock and ridicule where failing hands have passed the torch.

The most notable down-down the new RA's were able to muster on this evening was the punishment of the evening's hare for getting engaged to be married without permission, and clearly an absence of forethought. They'll be moving to British California in the spring to set up shop at a campground on the coast at some little hole called Lund, a bit north of Powell River. Apparently this is a step forward.

Mydol was downed for not having discovered anything better to do on 400 previous occasions. Receiving a trophy to proudly display on his mantel, he can boast that his wife had his member stuffed and mounted (Oh, my!) after their recent child.

The rest of the festivities were about as exciting a watching the mold grow on Polevault's shoes.

The usual bunch of inebriants were left to close the place down when I left. Another run closer to 1100.