Run #1135 - Just Another Nasty Night in November - this one at the Regis

November 3, 2003

Hares: Mud Guard, Club Mud, STD
Where: Regis Plaza Hotel, 124 - 7th Ave SE
Attendance: 40

You would think that the Grey Cup was in town with weather this cold. Limp Along Dick Randy Wet Sack delivered me to the bar at 6:15pm so I decided to have a schooner whilst awaiting for the pack. I quickly came to the realization that the price of a jug was the economical way to go so I ordered a jug. Well hashers didn't arrive as early as I had expected, but soon there was Bum Titty, Bobbin Robin Sneevil and Scoobik Hare to help me with said jug whilst tea-tottling Whalewanker politely declined.

Down Downs

Guest RA: Scoobie
Choir: Knobby, Lost in Space, Whalewanker
Hares: Mud Guard and STD
Archives: STD, ringadangadoo; one nut, and others
New boots - Rowan and Leanne?
Visitors: Pyro 2
Sexual offence: Lambchop and Overdone
Leading astray: Snevil, Blevil and WetOne
Pawning off his RA duties: Hardly

Why should hashers not follow the likes of Wet One, Sneevil Scoobie or Krusty on trail? Is it because they're directionally challenged? Are they intentionally running in the wrong direction because they missed their morning palladys class? Or is their instinct for the real trail just generally f***ed? As fate would have it, I looked up to find myself running behind said Wet One and Sneevil. Thoughts rapidly flashed through my mind. Oh shit! Where am I? How did this happen? Okay, I'm screwed! And a wee bit later, I knew that my fate was sealed when the three of us met up with not the pack, but Scoobik Hare. Scoobie had strung Whalewanker, and Bum Titty with hash gear in hand along with him. Well I figured that the pack must have headed down toward Prince's Island or west from where we were, but we never did see the pack again. We decided to head back to the bar after doing a tour of China Town. Street people thought it hilarious that we were chasing after a guy with a plunger (BumTitty).

Soon there after we were back at the Regis venue where more lost souls appeared; Limp Dick, Shmirk and King Shit. Wet One was heard to comment 'best trail I've never been on'.

The marks for the trail were rather creative. On trail was OV, a check was V and check-backs were the usual in honour of the beer being served at the Regis for $6.95/jug. Bobbin informed us when he arrived back that the hashers had rode the C Train back from the west side of down town confirming our suspicions of where the pack had gone.

New boot Janis told a joke 'What does a couple screwing near a stream and American beer have in common? They are both fucking near water!

The stainless steel pissing trough reminded me of NZ. Lambchop must have felt at home here. Hardly showed up without hashing to pawn off the RA duty to Scoobie, and I have some notes here about Irene and Burning Bush but unfortunately I cannot read my writing. My drivel ends here because soon I was nominated to the choir where we came up with the brilliant idea to do each downdown to the theme of OV.