Run #911 - The Wild-Cock Run

March 6, 2000

Hares: Pool Boy Ron and Cums-When-Wet
Location: Friar's pub, in the Glenmore Landing shopping centre

Pool-Boy-Ron and Cums-When-Wet clearly spent no less that 15 minutes setting this edition of the never ending Calgary hash story, chapter 911. The hash tried to circle up, but ended up forming something shaped like a bicycle rim that had been repeatedly run over by a truck.

Well, the evening started off with the unwelcome news that Beaver was actually going to be leaving Calgary within the next week. The feelings of the group were echoed by Hot Flashes stating "You are not taking my Beaver anywhere!!!" Hmm the mind boggles.

These cries of sorrow were drowned out by the screams of joy when it was discovered the Butthead was also leaving. Statements like "At last, I can drink my beer in peace without having to hear that obnoxious, stomach-turning laugh" or "Who ever elected this jerk to Hash Master, I voted for Flat", were heard in the circle.

After the usual announcements, the hares entered the circle and demonstrated remarkable biofeedback skills by each producing an erection that looked exactly like a giant chicken sticking out of their pants. I don’t know about everybody else but that caught my attention.

Feeling outdone by the talented hares, Pole Vault was kind enough to take part in a demonstration on how to use the human eye socket to catch snowballs. Sorry about that Pole Vault, I was aiming below the belt, well, at least I can sing better than I can throw snowballs. Well, maybe not.

The hares also warned the pack that there was a large ice spot on the trail (approx. 3000 km in diameter) and that the we should watch out for it. And we were off. The pack stayed together very well for the first 20 minutes. This was remarkable since, no one could identify any marks. Note to future hares: Do not use white marks on snow, they are hard to see at night (and for that matter in the daylight as well, unless of course you use yellow snow).

Once the first mark was found, the pack became confused and scattered in all possible directions (Now that’s the way I like it!!) You faithful scribe soon found himself trapped with two members of the Finnish persuasion, exchanging sexual innuendoes cleverly disguised as "jokes" in Finnish, fortunately Party Pumper was good enough to translate them to me.

The run was very short not and the run finished early not. Since the pack was so widely dispersed, I was forced to use telepathy to get an overall picture of the run. I picked up two clear messages, "where the #@?!&^@ is the beer" and "how much f&#$@%& further do we have to go before we get some beer"

But there was beer at the end of the run.

And the beer was good.

The Down-Downs

The choir was assembled with King Shit, Fukawee, Smirk and the Ping Pong Guy

Flesh Wound

- Hat Saver

Who's on Bottom

- Trader that also screwed up the COGS information

Hash Test Dummy

-

Tribute to Crash Test Dummy We are thinking about you

Whale Wanker

- Missing for weeks (allegedly pregnant)

Tootsie Roll

- Just for being a Tootsie Roll (Hot Flashes was forced to pants the man as a disciplinary action)

Ice Stickle

- Best dressed hasher not.

ShagShock , et al

- The trail seemed to last a lot longer for them.

Mom

- Actually made 100 runs in 17 years that must be a record!!!

Pole Vault

- One Eyed Thingy

Beaver + Butthead

- Each awarded a hash shit to confuse the customs agents in San Francisco.

Beaver + Horny Shit

- Just for being Finnish, at least they told us all a very funny joke.

Scribe's Comments

Run 911 marked our last (regular) run in Calgary. We are moving to San Francisco, California. We would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone in for your friendship and making us feel very welcome in Calgary. We are leaving Calgary with a heavy heart. We will always remember our friends and the good times we have had with all of you.

Thank you all!!

On-On

Butthead


Our Space so Back Off!

Beaver Terrorizes San Francisco

"Early reports of Bay area disturbances contained witness accounts of a gigantic blonde Beaver and a pregnant Viking clad in spandex and running through neighbourhoods and shopping malls. Narcotics officers fear a new designer drug may be responsible for these unlikely sightings and are keeping a close watch on the situation."

Meanwhile in frozen Calgary, leaderless packs of Hashers have lost their trail in the wake of this sudden departure. Topics of discussion (among the few Hashers capable of speech on this day of loss and sorrow and resultant binge-drinking,) included:

Regardless of our dismay and despair, (and our now-unsatisfied Viking fetish,) the editors of this sheet join the Hash in wishing Beaver and Butthead all the best in their new city. You will be missed.

On-On

Your Editors


Great choice in new careers there Butthead! Remember, everyone starts out on the bottom and workers their way to the top! I look forward to hearing about your experiences... On second thought, maybe NOT!


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