Run #798 - Shhhh!

June 1, 1998


 

Before you continue reading this, the Secrecy Act must be enforced. This act does not allow any repeat of the information either verbally or in print form. Any person found or heard repeating the subject matter can and will be punished as explained under the Act.

 


I was relaxing and just finishing my third beer of the evening when I realized that the Hash run 798 was starting in about 30 minutes. Thinking that I had lots of time I cracked another beer as Camp Horizon is only twenty minutes from my place. Once my chauffeur arrived we were off to Camp Horizon. Upon my arrival at the normal Hash hour, I only saw a few cars and no one except SQ in the parking lot. Foolishly I had thought that I was late, after all it was 7:15. Then SQ tell us that the run started down the road in Maclean Creek! So back in the car to zip to the start point where I found some 39 oddly looking Hashers still gathered in a circle. I mentioned that they didn't have to wait for us, so then the Hash Master turned it over to the Hares Lumberjack, Perfessor, Thong Queue and Three Point Landing. I really didn't want to hear all the boring announcements that ever one without a life must tell us that do.

Anyway quickly I was off playing in the mud, slime and bog of the Bragg/Maclean Creek area. Up and over wet hills, through slime filled bog and into deep creeks we ran or I should say wallowed. Moonshine came up to me to brag that she couldn't get her panties clean after our liaison in the slime pits of Glenmore Resevoir. I did tell her to take them off, but oh no don't listen to Lapdog! After a few more stream crossings and climbing this massive mountain with Smirk and Bum Rubber, I looked down to notice Hare Lumberjack leading the SCBer's and pointing the way for them. Sucking up to the Hare does pay off!

After running, walking, and crawling through the coldest of bogs with Lost It, I eventually found a trail to walk on and realized that I had left my feet some where in the bog as I couldn't feel them. Perhaps Hardly or Twisted Sister picked them up. But an amazing event kept occurring. After crossing streams that went up to our waist, and to some over their heads (the ones with hair on it), and mud that oozed between our toes, I watched in amazement while some of the Hashers were actually trying to avoid the puddles of water. Duhh! Something to do with not wanting their feet to get wetter? At this time Hot Flashes was doing her best to avoid the muddy spots until she slipped into the stream and ended up to her neck in water. While 007 continued on, other Hashers were helping her. I didn't get their names as I was still rolling in the mud. But actually I was having too much fun reliving my child hood running through as many of the mud puddles as possible, getting covered in mud and being told by many Harriettes, oh that gross! Shiggy, love my shiggy, close to orgasm as I'll get!

Very soon the run was over as I thanked Lumberjack for a well set run, but I told him the snow falling was just a bit much at this time of year. Changing in the parking lot was probably the next to most exciting part of the run. If the weather was just a little warmer I wouldn't mind waiting in wet clothes to see Bum Rubber's lace panties or ACD's thong underwear and Wet Butt just getting naked. For a few minutes I watched, but since I was close to over ventilating at this point, I changed as well. Some of the guys were explaining about shrinkage, but Dreary said he had nothing to worry about as he couldn't find his, and Bobbin Robin stated that he had to take a leak to ensure his was still there.

Back to the ONIN, I found Hashers milling about drinking beer so I thought I should check it out. There was our sponsors beer (Big Rock) and some other brand X gay beer present. So far the run has been ideal. A perfect location, an excellent route, a well marked trail with lots of shiggy, bountiful flesh after the run, lots of wet Harriet's (and no complaints about infections from the sludge), lots of pleasing aromatic spaghetti sauce and Bum Rubber living up to her name. This couldn't be a Lumberjack run, something must screw up. Well shortly afterwards and well before the RA started his babble, an announcement was made. Words that never should be repeated. Words that brought a chill to my heart. Words that I can't describe in any other terms but shocking, revolting and simply unheard of in the Hash, "WE HAVE RUN OUT OF BEER!" I did my best to remind everyone that it was an excellent run, lots of shiggy but, the bunch we are, we quickly forgot about that and the cries of hang the Hare, crucify him were heard until the RA told us/me to shut up.

Well the Down Downs went on but I never really caught to much of them because I was checking out all the empty beer cans for that spare drop, looking for some one who likes to leave beer in the bottom of their can. So anyway I understand the Hares, New Boots and archives got a beer. ACD and Hot Flashes got a beer because they were pointing (like who wasn't), King Shit and Stranger got a beer for splashing (like who wasn't). Then a naming occurred Tasty Bits, for painting each of her toes a different colour which resulted in several Hashers lining up to lick each toe after being cleansed with beer. New Boot Harry got named Change Me for what ever reason. And then Nipple Detector got a beer for being lame. But since we ran out of beer, other Down Downs didn't occur, like, Perfessor for not getting the Hash shit covered in slime and passing it on, for the Q's doing an excellent job at both auctions, Lumberjack for not bringing enough beer, Jennifer who mentioned that she dated sludge and didn't want to run in it as well, but perhaps next time.

Then the second auction commenced with P'tooie taking part as the auctioneer and much money was raised. Mostly between Lumberjack and Stranger who bought all the dinners between themselves. But really Lumberjack, a dinner for six cannot be exchanged for six dinners! A job well done by the auction Q's, an excellent meal, and an excellent trail but I shall attempt to quickly forget about this night as the cries of "WE HAVE RUN OUT OF BEER" still echo in my mind. I must make an appointment with my psychologist to help me adjust. These words should never be heard of again in the Hash Anals of History. An oath of secrecy must shroud this event so not to ruin our reputation as a Hash and before some wamker misprints our logo to a running club.

In strictest confidence Lapdog,

Note once you read this, you must rip it into little pieces and eat it or throw it at Lumberjack.


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