Hare: Hyena
Where: Pete's Peanut Pub... but not for long!
Big Rock Guess who's jugs!
Attendance: 31
OK, kids, today's quickie Hash Quiz is: The real reason the highly competent, super friendly, extremely personable waitress at Pete's Peanut Pub in West Hills was such a raging b-word was:
Whatever the reason, Ms. Congeniality enjoyed throwing her weight around — giving the ever-patient Hardly a difficult time, making Gromit's head spin, and even throwing Duke of Hurl out of the bar for suggesting that he was getting sick of getting blamed for things that he had nothing to do with.
On the bright side, it looks as though the hash won't return to Peanutville — hey, it's the home of 70-cent bottled water and overpriced beer — by mutual consent, which is probably best for both sides.
It's also the neighbourhood watering hole for solo hare Hyena and the long-lost Full Throttle, although they should be fine. They may have to wear a scarlet Calgary HHH for the next few visits, though.
Nothing like taking one for the team.
Hashers gathered on a cool and sorta foggy night to follow a sometimes-icy-and-snowy Half a Trail set by Hyena, who declared the night the Hash Olymdicks, which involved dividing into teams and taking part in events that consisted of a lot of spinning around.
The best spinners, or maybe it was the fastest ones, or perhaps a group
of Russian judges infiltrated the competition and just rigged it, won
all sorts of cheap prizes — such as the Gland Rover emblem —and even
beer.
Sadly, Limp Dick, or even Dick Pound, wasn't there.
Hyena suggested that hashers shouldn't do the last part of the trail, which was steep and icy. It was probably best, since many were dizzier than usual, thanks to the intense Olymdicks competition. So everyone headed back to the bar, where RA Bobbin' presided over festivities better than any IOC official ever could, or maybe not.
But Ms. Slayer won a Tim Hortons mug, or something like that. Her victory, tainted as though it may have been, continued her two-week celebration of all things Latvian.
This week, it was the 90th anniversary of Latvian independence,
which makes it 10 years older than Mickey Mouse, and she
was even going to dinner with someone who claims to be the Latvian
ambassador to somewhere. Who knew there was one, or that Latvia actually
needed an ambassador?
Maybe next time.
Oh, and the waitress ended up with a really healthy tip.
On-On!
Duke of Hurl