Run #1294 - Welcome to Lamb Chop World

August 7, 2006

Hares: Lambchop
Where: River Park, Sandy Beach Parking Lot, 50th Ave 14A st SW
On-In: Bass Bros. pub in Lincoln Park, 2 Richard Way SW
Big Rock: Grasshopper & Honey Brown
Attendance: 31

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The pre-hash speech in the circle, which usually includes useful information such as trail markings and the like, was so jumbled and discombobulated that it made George W. Bush sound like a cunning linguist. Somewhere in the Great Orator Hall in the Sky, Sir Winston Churchill gagged, clutched his chest and fell over dead, again. A feeling of dread spread cross the pack as they tried to listen to hare Lamp Chop and his Imaginary Friend explain the finer points — or any points for that matter — of the evening's trail.

Welcome to Lamb Chop World, where down was up and up was down, and never the twain shall meet — or something like that. On the bright side, it was a gorgeous and warm early August evening, perfect for meandering through the woods and trails and parkland in the Sandy Beach area.

There was quite a good turnout, considering it was a holiday weekend of some sort — all the better to get more people lost or disoriented. And there was plenty of that. Hyena was last seen crossing the Elbow River, carrying a baby stroller, presumably with his child still in it. A large contingent never showed up afterward at the Bass Bros. bar patio. Pyro and a smattering of others claimed they did the whole trail, but who really knew?

As best anyone could tell, coyotes didn't attack any hashers — although Lamb Chop's gibberish included a dead-on coyote impression. No hashers were spotted floating face down the Elbow River in Stanley Park, or anywhere else. It seemed as though nobody ended up wandering aimlessly on the Glenmore Reservoir dam. Mr. Chop, the raspberry lover, made sure the trail ran on a gravel alley where one of his favourite delicacies was plentiful, or so he said.

Most of the pack was able to find its way to the bar just south of Mount Royal College, where Sticky Lips, shaking off the rust from a weekend of heavy drinking, served as guest RA in Rubber Made's absence. Among the nonsense:

• The two-member choir consisted of Snevil and Hardly, whose falsetto voice brought back memories of a young Tiny Tim, tiptoeing through the tulips, or whatever that lunatic did. Nearby birds crashed to the ground as Hardly belted out the words to various hash songs, accompanied by Snevil. It was quite a sight to behold.
   
• Randy Randy, who last hashed in Moscow Moscow, which is in Russia Russia, played the Good Samaritan role to the hilt when he found a cell phone on trail, then attempted to lure the Sweet Young Thing to the bar to recover her property. She had the good sense to say thanks, take her phone and leave, rather that subject herself to the debauchery that was taking place. In a shocking development, a non-hashing couple watched the proceedings and didn't lose their dinner and beer, or run away screaming.
   
• Sticky Lips, who truly enjoys the power of being a federal prosecutor, was in her element when she had the chance to award two Hash Thingys, not just one. One rightly went to Mr. Chop and his Imaginary Friend (wink, wink) for a list of transgressions longer than the lengthy trail. The other wrongfully went to newly minted Canadian resident and hash punching bag, Duke of Hurl, who had the good sense and exquisite timing to actually cross a bridge rather than wade across a river to follow a bad trail. Ms. Lips sheepishly admitted afterward that there were plenty of other good candidates — Sucks Everything with his lawn mower- bicycle, for example — but she didn't know about them at the time. Bad guest RA, bad guest RA. For shame.
   
• Noted mushroom aficionado and dark turkey meat hater Tiny Bubbles got a down-down for boring the circle with his announcement about some mountain-climbing book or book on tape or something that was loaned 13 years ago. Tubbles left the hash early so he could re-visit his childhood neighbourhood to see where his collection of Dr. Seuss books ended up. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
   
• Then there's death, taxes, the sun rising in the East and Mum grazing off other people's french fries and chicken wings. It's like clockwork.
   
• Kebab drank for some reason, probably for not wearing a running outfit that was loud and garish enough. Knobby and Left Bun likely would have gotten a down-down too for whatever reason, but they were nowhere to be found afterward.
   
• Barbie visited again from Houston and bought lots of beer on his company credit card, bless his generous heart. The boy needs to come back more often.
   
• The clock is winding down for Sumpyton and Squeeky, who are moving soon to Victoria, B.C., aka Free Lodging for Everybody. Their departure comes shortly after the going-away party for Right Bun, who's moving to Houston — which has to be true love because no one moves to Houston voluntarily.

  Not even Lamb Chop.

On On!
Duke of Hurl

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