Hares: Wet One and King Shit
Where: Hannibal's, 708 - 16 Av NW
Calgary's fashion industry has hit new heights (and widths) with the latest display of runway finery adorning exquisite bodies at the annual HHH showing on Monday night. Gone are the days of a dull "straight" runway. Welcome the new look of the circular "alternative" style of fashion show. No more sedate sashay on a flat ramp in a stuffy hall. A run, gallop, trot or brisk walk through an urban neighborhood provides so much more exposure.
The Bridal Party drives up...
At the top of the show we are greeted by the latest in Bridal Party ensembles - complete with tacky plastic flowers and the beater limo - we will toast these grandstanders later. First we meet new models and designers, some of whom are stunning, others are just stunned and who could blame them. These star wannabes consist of Lori, Jennifer, Kevin, Cindy, Kent, Ice Box and Lost Virginity, all hopeful for the fame and recognition this prestigious event may bring.
...and isn't he/she lovely?
Icedickle, Ice Box, Stinky, Krusty, Pool Boy Ron, Hot Flashes, Hot Tail
Introductions to some of the industry matriarchs follow. So many fabulous creations, designers and models but we can only mention so very few here. These include the famous Pool Used-to-be-a-Boy Ron, Choir Slut, Pussy Vault, Queen Shit, Off Off and Blue Vagina. The scantily clad Queen Shit and suited up Wet One lead the procession, with just a little confusion (too many blondes) along the Avenue 16. Chaos soon sets in as traffic snarls but a bit of order finally prevails and the tour continues through SAIT (didn't learn a thing), the North Hill Mall (friendlier Security Guard this time) and back across the Avenue 16. Here we discover flashy fire trucks and calendar models. Not to be outshone, Queen Shit, Smirk and Icedickle insist on a photo spread and check some hoses while they are at it.
Where's the Fire?
Icedickle, Smirk, King Shit and two amazingly cooperative civil servants
Continuing on in this circular fashion we prance east again only to find Playgirl Centerfold TNT close to a fist fight with a Camaro full of testosterone who were upset at the fleshy parade. Dreary would have taken them on but he-she was too weary from trying to figure out whose tops to bother looking down.
Festivities continue at a gala affair at the famed Hannibal's Pub. Our emcees Hardly and Hot Flashes guide us through much deserved awards and presentations. Musical interludes are harmoniously provided by P'tooey, Kawky Whoreurr, Ice Bag and Pussy Killer.
Recognition goes first to our elegant runway guides, Wet One and the still scantily clad Queen Shit. We also acknowledge our new models and visiting VIPs. More complimentary cocktails are awarded to the freshly shaven "feel this" Gnu Moon and the ever so scantily clad Queen Shit. What a cheeky pair the are. Proceedings are briefly interrupted as Ms. Krusty Bride and Mr. Stinky Groom are united by a quickie, hopefully not binding ceremony. Having shed their respective garter and bouquet they fade away into monogamy and monotony. These two words sound the same for a very good reason.
Sadly we roast our most unimaginative peers for their lackluster designs and hope the winning Wanker is more inspired next year.
Krusty, New boot, King Shit, Smirk, Prisilla Queen of the Desert
Naughty girl outfits are big this year as are the breasts that fill them and this group deserves all the exposure they got. They include Choir Slut, Smirk, the almost naked Queen Shit, Ms Krusty Bride and Kent AKA Twiggy, the only Boobless Wonder.
Whale Wanker, Takes It Lying Down, Skully, P'Tooie, Party Pumper, Hot Tail, Twisted Sister
Nasty Boys are still all the rage and special mention goes to Scully (the best bloody hockey player around), Hot Tail, Twisted Sister, Takes It Lying Down and Party Pumper along with special guest Flossy who was far too busy to give us a comment.
ACD gets ready to swallow
Party Pumper and the sheep appendage roasted Hot Tail and Pussy Vault for clumsiness on the run(way) and then we witness another attempt at a better fireman calendar pic. When the photo is released you will see Yours Truly, your virgin scribe had to substitute under the helmut.
We wind up the festivities with a touching version of our hashion hymn led by Dreary and our own Runaway Bride Krusty with some hands on help from Wet One.
Hash Test Dummy
Alas, the Annual Kareoke and Krossdressing Run is now just a Stomach-Turning Memory
Thongs by Gnu Moon and Choir Boy
Rivaling Lancelot's Quest for the Holy Grail, St Patrick's crossing of the sea, and the airmail journey of Monica's Blue Dress, Hasher legend looms large with Dreary's Progress to Spokane.
Nothing has captured the imagination of Hashers like this since Tiny Bubbles transformed into Senor Bubello at Don Quixote's and seduced simultaneously an entire room of Spanish beauties with his magic feet and his sultry pelvis. I'm getting all humid just recalling...........
Back to Spokane.
Though most hashers are happy to see the inimitable Dreary representing us in far off lands, there are those among us who question:
Why not One Nut Sue, who would mortgage his mother for a chance to run naked through Spokane's fair streets, (except that he'd already sold one of her kidneys to put purple running lights on the Running Room Truck.)
Why were Colleen and Jenna and Gretchen voted off before the mud volcano contest? (OK, OK, last Survivor comment, we promise.)
Though these questions may not have occurred to everyone, we know there are others out there who have time to inquire into the world's dark underbelly (not just editors who haven't figured out how to work around their Net Nanny.)
Sometimes the truth is hard to read.
Yer Editors (Who's On Bottom, Cig Girl, PBR)