Run #1481 - Kiwi Klassic

November 2, 2009

Hares: Always with Wings, Lambchop
Where: Len's Den
Big Rock: at Len's always excellent price
Attendance: 35

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When Always With Wings was searching high and low for a co-hare, the pickings were, well, rather slim.

Booty Camp was busy stuccoing her condo, Rubber Made needed to work on her fangs, er, nails, and Master Beater was still trying to figure out if the Canadian coin with a silly bird on it was worth $1 or $2.

What to do, what to do?

Then Always had a brainstorm, or possibly a brain fart, and decided to make a collect call to a sheep farm in New Zealand, where Lamb Nuts was vacationing with his family herd.

Luckily for Always, Lambie agreed to hop on a plane from Auckland to Calgary, arriving just in time to help set a trail from standby hash bar Len's Den on 16th Avenue NE, just across the street from the RCMP station, or some such nonsense.

It only cost Always the price of a first-class plane ticket, but, hey, when you're the hare, you do what you gotta do. Of course, the money could have been better spent on English lessons for Lamb Nads, but that's another story for a different day.

The hash, the first after the dreaded time change, took place on the darkened streets of Bridgeland and uh, uh, who knows, it was really dark and felt like midnight. In fact, the 7:15 p.m. start was nearly after Pyro's bedtime.

But hashers, many using headlamps and flashlights and other items that glowed, made their way from here to there and everywhere in the brisk wind — it was a looooooooooooooong trail, and the two cop cars on Child Street was a nice touch — and back to the bar, where they consumed mass quantities of beer and wings and BBQ beef on a bun.

Hash veteran Dreary served as guest RA, and although he seemed to run out of his A material quickly — busting Dr. Fill for eating pizza with a knife and fork? — a mirthful time was had by all, or almost all. For instance:

• After getting a down-down for relieving himself on a scenic hillside during the run, King Shit also drank a half-yard for his 950th run, which actually took place a week or so before.

  Sure, hash cash cost him more than $2,800, but Shit King also saved more than $5,000 on gas and oil and wear and tear on his car by scamming rides nearly every week.

  As a result of his miserly ways, King Shit will retire a couple years early from his sham job with the city.
   

• The evening took place just before some hashers will scatter to the four corners of the globe — wait, a globe doesn't have corners — for various and sundry things.

  For example, Booty Camp and Snowblower are headed to the Dominican Republic to see if Mike Hawk and Little Red Riding Hood of Death actually follow through on their plans for impending nuptials, or if it's just a scam.

  A gaggle of hashers — Rubber Made, Baby, Master Beater, Pink Meat and Duke of Hurl, to name a few — are traveling to faraway Banff for Winterstart on the weekend.

  

  Then there's Basket Case — poor, poor Basket Case — who's going to Cleveland for a week-long business trip. Second prize is a two-week-long business trip to Cleveland. He wasn't exactly sure what to do for fun in the Mistake by the Lake, but figured, if all else fails, he could visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame seven times.
   

• Flapjack was too busy walking her dog on trail and managed to lose her car keys, which earned her a well-deserved down-down. She's also forever indebted to AMA. Experience AMA, indeed.
   
• Abandoned Pussy nearly got her fourth name, but, nah, even Dreary wouldn't be that mean.
   
• Shutter Slut was probably one of the few people in North America outside New York City who was actually rooting for the Yankees in the World Series. It's not that he's a Yankees fan, he just despises the Phillies for some reason or other. Maybe Philly just isn't real popular in Istanbul.

  
   

• Once again, Rubber Made celebrated her 21st birthday with a down-down. Her actual age, though, is 21 multiplied by:
  1. 1
  2. 1.5
  3. 2
  4. 3
  5. None of the above

  Those feeling particularly brazen and reckless, and who don't really value their life, can ask Ms. Made for the correct answer. Hint: Bring a penis-related gift as a peace offering, just in case.
   

• Dreary started to give Auntie Frank a down-down, but then withdrew the idea, confusing just about everyone in the bar.
   

  

• There were probably a half-dozen dogs on trail — even hash puppy Onyx from Redwood Meadows — all of which would have sent Whale Wanker into spasms of outrage, if he'd only have been there instead of back home in BC. Whew.
   
• Much like stores that start selling Christmas stuff the day after Halloween, Peeler was trying to figure out how many were coming to the hash Christmas party on Dec. 11. Like Christmas, it'll come together one day, one way or the other.
   
• In the spirit of the season, Xena got a water down-down for her flashing lights on her arms, which Dreary thought made her look like a Christmas tree of sorts.
   
• For her 128th consecutive hash appearance, meek and quiet (snicker, snicker) Over Done did nothing, said nothing, and flew under the radar. But the hash gods are taking note, and the karmic payback could be fun to watch.
   

Some hashers — not naming any names — were still slowly recovering from the Halloween night pub crawl. Best part of Halloween being over: No more Alice Cooper songs on the radio.

On-On!

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