Run #1131 - Thanksgiving

October 13, 2003

Hares: Skewbic Hair & friends
Where: Weaselhead, South Glenmore Park
On-In: Skewbie & Muckie's palatial digs
On-After: Skewbie & Muckie's palatial digs
Attendance: 57

It was a veritable who's who at the zoo as the Hashers began assembling. With sufficient instructions, it seems even this group can arrive at the designated site, in this case the west entrance to Glenmore Park off 90^th Av. Since it had been snowing earlier, attire such as full armour sported by Xena did not seem inappropriate, at the time. This was balanced by Dr. Phil in shorts and T-shirt. Perhaps he was still warm from the Marathon in Calona. Congratulations.

The circle up was perfect, with new HashMaster, Smirk, alerting us to this Most-Thankful-Run. Kobby counted all present. I think there was a reason for this act.

Lots of pint-sized Hasher appeared: Jennifer in her classy boots pint-sized Mydol glorious in turquoise and purple, little On-In/Clutch Bag.

Announcements included: surprise, surprise Mydol and the Christmas Party. " When was that again?" Ben-Wa was Kindness-in-Action; Left Bun said something about Dogs with Cheeks; and we learned, Dreary, like trying to reach the definitive pi, is at 999.5.

There was a call for New Boots, A's and V's. The net ensnared such exotic beasts as: Lysol, Cassandra, Carolyn, No Hare Bailey and um-um-never-been-here-before-Rhonda although I thought I heard reference to Open Throat.. As we introduced ourselves, Cock Tale euphemized his name to Pee-Pee Tale in deference to tiny ears. Kawky tried to find some appropriate way to follow suit but apparently nothing can ameliorate his sobriquet. "And, yes, Whale Wanker, we noted your presence."

The Hares were called forth. Skewbic informed us the trail had been set yesterday and demo-ed what to expect: a drop of flour followed by a splash of water resulting in a misty glob or ghostly circle. Very unappetizing. Hopefully it did not resemble the feast Mucky Dip was preparing back at the On-In.

Blue Balls was the first out of the shoot, leading the herd well until confronted with a check, at which point all semblance that we knew what we were doing was gone. The true path ended up going straight down a bank. I trust this is where the strollers (as in things with wheels) and walkers left us. The paths were littered with wet leaves but not as mucky as Skewbic's shoes had been in the Circle-up. Over head gaggles of geese were discussing how glad they were they were not turkeys.

Beer Near was sited and Beer Here located. The overdressers were stripping: Xena and Not Too Deep. Smirk, mounting a bench, announced the poor sucker (his words), Hardly, who had been appointed RA; we all cheered. Purple Twist refrained from commenting while Miss Shiggy got the wool pulled over her eyes (when Hardly pulled down her rainbow coloured togue.) Cocktail, who had stolen a beer from Suck No Evil, had hidden it up his sleeve; when he went to drink HIS beer, his pilferd one poured down his sleeve. "How bright can you be?" Of course, this story is just hear-say; so who knows what really happened. However, it is plausible.

Back at the On-In, while waiting for the Down-Downs, Skewbic, alerted that there was lots of Hash Beer; so, save your own. We were glad to see the panicked look on Lambchop's face replaced by a smile when his son, Alexander, was found. I interviewed a Person who declined to give me their name who summed himself up this way: he did not run, he did drink beer, he helped Mucky Dip do things. I think he was her brother-in-law and husband of new boot: Carolyn.

As Hardy forayed into his new role, the sun came out. He asked our hosts, Skewbic and Mucky Dip about any rules. Then he laid out his new program. His stint as RA would be populated with volunteers. They will wear his shoes but: the hat stays with him.

This week's host was: Purple Twist who, in deference to her not-yet-18 years, would do Pop Down-Downs.

Purple Twist called up the hares; Skewbic and Knobby. The usual "small" comment was heard. "Are we not above all this?" The small Choir, composed of Lakey, Bobbin, Dreary and P'Tooey, toasted them with: I Wish I Were a Little Can of Beer.

New Boots, Archives and Visitors were rounded up, most from the basement which is where the kids had congregated. The song was: Why Were They Born So Beautiful with certain words edited.

We learned that P'Tooey and Twisted Sister have been appointed Joint Masters, with Twisted managing the first year and P'Tooey the second. It was noted that the prime qualification for this job is to be able to count to 69. The song was: Put Your Left Foot Over My Shoulder, Put Your Right Tit... "hey, what happened to being sensitive about the kids? Oh yeah, they'd gone back to the basement."

Hardy then pointed about that Someone had been going to display a thong, something about it being a demo sport. Billythong , being that someone, gave us a little peak; she thonged us according to Kawky. Although there were crys for more, Hardly reminded us it was a family show. "Ah, Film at 11" according to Pool Boy. The Choir lead us in: She's All Right

Next, we were introduced to the Awardinators: Hash Test Dummy and Lay 'em in Snow. Why Were They Born was sung and Dreary flashed; there were rumours of earthcracks in the communities to the south. a 7.3 measured on the Rectum Scale. Not sure to whom to give credit for that comment. How about Crack Head?

Knobby was awarded a bag? for ? Dose of Clap was sung. "It is getting blurry here".

Dreary, who was not officially here, (or, at least only the bottom half was) was "Publically Pissed On.

Choir Boy got to relinquish the Hash Shit. It was noted he had added an umbilical cord by which it could now be carried. Xena was found fiddling with some small adjunct with which she felt she could measure men. My Grandfather's Clock was the song. It was a new one to me. I especially liked the line about something dropping and never running again.

Blue Balls was rousted for something to do with eyesight and walking into screens. But He's All Right.

To Lambchop, Bobbin awards this comment: Do you know where your kids are? We all sang: It's a Lost World After All.