Run #819 - Yummy Kippers

September 28, 1998

Hares: Hardly & Twisted Sister
Location: Pig & Whistle

Not a courageous stance in the face of the approaching autumn. With temperatures plummeting into the low 'teens the soft and woosey hashers scrambled for jackets and long sleeves, milling about inside the Pig & Whistle until the last possible moment.

Arriving early, Hot Flashes was cooled to a comatose stupor, wandering oblivious passed hasher after hasher on her quest for the ladies room. Being very focused is the story she's trying to stick to.

Pre-circle banter bounced from some "R" word thingy in Banff to how the virgin hasher in the purple bandanna (and little else) was already winning the attention of the harriettes. Just count the number of hashers wearing purple bandannas at the next run.

The sound of a horn exiting the Pig (be glad this isn't scratch and sniff!) signalled the time to circle up and mingle in the parking lot instead of inside. Our newly erected Hash Master Knobslinger appeared to have broken his arm going to the trouble of dressing up in a tribute to the Past-It Master Polevault. Nice try Knobby!. Polevault would be the first to tell you that he's much better looking than that.

Once circled, the Hash was spared an introduction to the only virgin out this night as "Shadow" was too busy sniffing crotches (and who among us hasn't missed an opportunity or two for the exact same reason?).

Two hashers who were able to drag themselves away from sniffing crotches long enough to be reintroduced to the Hash as Archived Hashers were Four Teats and Batman. After introducing ourselves to the archives the announcements began.

We'll have to start circling up much earlier to fit in all the stuff too important to just gossip about later. What with all the hockey games, Christmas parties, COGS rides and Full Moon hashes, request for everything from scribes to hares to people with orange hair inquiring about recent sightings of the Hash Shit it was a wonder there was time for a run at all. Luckily there was sustenance while waiting as Twisted Sister teased us with snacks from the future regroup.

Finally the hares were introduced. Hardly and Twisted Sister immediately confused everyone by illustrating their last family fishing expedition. Fish; Fish in ponds; Dead fish. It was a very nice presentation but it would have benefited from some colour slides and maybe some beer and pretzels.

Being as it was the night before Yom Kippur it turned out that the marks were in fact a beacon for the Yummy Kippers we would be rewarded with if we carefully stayed on trail and found the regroup. For those preparing to fast for awhile, these tasty morsels (where exactly was Tasty Bits?) would provide the fuel to see them through. For the rest of us, they tasted great but kinda stuck to your teeth for later.

The trail was marked with enough Christian imagery hanging from posts to frighten even the most crucifixion immune. This must be celebrating some other religion. Leading as quick as it could to the nearest water crossing, the trail made it apparent that Right Bun and Hot Flashes would not offend anyones sensibilities instead choosing not to walk on water. Batman was almost religiously incorrect by boasting about wearing a crown of thorns but it was around his other head as he was being led through too many prickly bushes that tickled his prick.

Many playgrounds and dead fish later, the Yummy Kippers regroup across the street from the Hardly / Twisted Love Shack allowed us the recharge we needed to make a break for the bar. Never have so many been so wrong with so few options as the mad scramble back to the Pig & Whistle. And yet somehow everyone made it.

Some earlier than others it would seem. That sorry attempt at impersonating Polevault may not have ever left. Thong Q looked like we were intruding on her office. Not ever having jugs of beer surrounding my work space, it's not an error I'll ever be likely to make. Ed and Irma Melville had dropped by from Qualicum Beach on Vancouver Island to swill a few beers with their demon spawn Golden Showers and Cocktale and their next-best-thing-to spawn-in-law Not Too Deep. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves without ever running. Why do we let that trail thing cut into our beer time again? Oh Ya! Because otherwise it would be a Drinking Club with a Drinking Problem (Bashers take note!).

I think I see an opening for a fourth Hash in Calgary. The Bar Hash. Set a trail from seat to seat with a drink stop at every mark. Mismanagement erections will be held at 2:30 a.m. after the next pub crawl.

As the exhausted, thirsty and crumb covered pack began to filter back into the Pig, stories floated around about events on the trail. Twisted Sister announced with a glint in her eye that Hardly is never gentle. 007 found a golf ball he may be able to use a prothesis after Hot Flashes finds him. After not walking on water she was left on her own to climb out of the creek.

Where once resided a projection TV screen, Dreary stood beside a framed portrait of Mum and proudly downed a bunch of rabble for a variety of heinous crimes including:

Hares: Hardly and Twisted Sister

Archives: Four Teats and Batman

Worshipping the Spice Girls: Ginger Spice

Being as blind as Batman: Bobbin' Robin

Not being a swinger: Whale Wanker

Not walking on water: Left and Right Buns and Hot Flashes

Past-It and Perpetual Master: Polevault

Seeing his shadow outside of Groundhog day: P'tooey

Stealing beer again: Butt Head and Beaver (just stick your mouth under the draft tap next time)

Wet Butt was reintroduced to the Hash Shit.

Andrea was named: Who Are You? (No way? W.A.Y.)

Mark, the owner of the Pig & Whistle was downed for not remembering how much of a headache we are and continually inviting us back.

Hot Flashes, Right Bun and Suck Her received lovely parting gifts to compliment any contemporary hasher evening wear.

The Hash was thus left to chat amongst themselves discussing such cerebral topics as whether or not Dreary asking P'tooey to help with the horse's penis was an impeachable offence.

On On,
Bobbin Robin

 

 


 

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