Run #1414 - Blues & Booze

September 8, 2008

Hares: Geisha, Wet Dreamer and Cums too Late
Where: Mikey's Juke Joint and Eatery, 1901 - 10th Ave SW
Big Rock: In the Pub and on the Patio
Attendance: 48

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Sorta like a political campaign that's long on promises and short on delivery, the much-ballyhooed Beer, Blues and Soul Food Buffet hash was, well, a bit overhyped and overblown.

Oh, sure, there was a run, which started at Mikey's Juke Joint and Eatery just off the west edge of downtown, and meandered through a nearby hood, across the railroad tracks and along the Bow River bike path before heading toward Douglas Fir Trail and Edworthy, oops, we need to get back in time for the food and music.

The logistics were a little crammed and the sweet-sounding Steve Pineo Band started kinda early, which meant RA Dr. Fill had to take hash business outside on the cool September evening.

But not before the $5 Soul Food Buffet, which was actually a few plates of appetizers that had as much to do with soul food as Alaskan moose hunter Sarah Palin does with the N.A.A.C.P.

Soul food: Fried chicken, Southern baked macaroni and cheese, collard greens, black-eyed peas, candied yams, chitlins, lotsa grease and fat, grits, etc.

Not soul food: Nachos, calimari, chicken wings.

Some joked — or maybe it wasn't a joke — about ending up having to pay $1 a nacho. Others barely got any wings, if at all. Jaws left his wing bones on the table and wouldn't pick them up, even with a napkin — not that there were a lot of napkins or spare plates to be had.

Then the massive gaggle of hashers headed outside, as Dr. Fill conducted business, with the semi-muffled sounds of the blues band wafting through the door and walls.

The best part about the choir — Hardly, Dreary, Snevil and somebody or other — was that it actually had musical accompaniment of sorts, and it wasn't Whale Wanker leading them. Or Mr. Wanker's voice being heard much at all, thank goodness.

• Co-hares Geisha and Cums Too Late — prospective co-hare Wet Dreamer was AWOL, presumably satisfying his wanderlust in the Yukon or Australia or Timbuktu — got an obligatory down-down for organizing the festivities.

  Cums celebrated his duties by reluctantly taking on a barfly in a post-hash pool game that was never-ending and kinda painful to watch. Somebody won, but it took almost forever.
   

• Dirty Dancer downed a half-yard in 26 minutes or so for his 250th run, and got a lovely Vanna White-autographed timepiece for his $750 in hash cash.
   
• Lost in Space, and indeed he is, was honoured for walking with a three-legged dog, which Rubber Made suggested was good practice for the women Mr. Space encounters in Fort McMurray. But Ms. Made was unclear whether that meant the women had three legs, or were just missing one.
   
• The event also brought some long-lost hashers out of the woodwork —Limp Dick and Billythong, for example, as well as All Banged Up, who apparently was too shy to step into the circle when archives were called, and stayed in the shadows afterward when they did a down-down.
   
• Skewbic managed to win the Hash Thingy — a stunning upset, isn't it? — for doing some girly "yoo-hoo, over here" thing on trail. As his reward, he got to drink from a plunger with some sort of penis in the middle, which just tickled him to no end.
   
• In a large dose of karmic payback, noted dog-hater Whale Wanker was walking back to the bar on the bike path when two female joggers passed with a black lab in tow.

  The women pretty much ignored the now-B.C. resident, more or less, but the dog snarled and growled and was on the edge of its attack mode — which absolutely terrified Mr. Wanker.

  If anyone ever needed proof that dogs know humans, this was it. Either that, or the dog was good friends with Oreo or Elwood or Luna or other hash hounds, and the intelligence on Whale Wanker just got around.

  In Whale Wanker's meager defence, he did nothing to provoke the dog. The thing he was most worried about was whether his old-timey running shorts would provide any anti-dog-bite protection. Short answer: Not a chance.
   

• Happy Beaver managed to avoid a down-down for missing a down-down on her 21st birthday the previous week. Next time could be a little rough in the beer department, but she's a trouper. They learn to be tough in the Edmonton hash.
   
• Peeler got a down-down for looking glowing and radiant, for some reason or other. Dr. Fill thought it might have been marathon sex on the weekend, but Peeler denied it. Maybe she's just a happy girl, or something like that.
   
• Erudite narrowly avoided a beating from a woman in the bar when she asked, extremely politely, is she could take a barstool from the table. Ms. Priss's answer was no.

  "Bitch," Erudite mumbled under her librarian breath.

  Indeed.

And the band played on.

On-On!

Duke of Hurl

Click here for Photos!