Run #1326 - The Feast of St. Kieran Hash

March 5, 2007

Hare: Mydol and Pyro
Where: Tipperary's Pub, 2002 - 16 Ave NW)
Big Rock: $11 jugs
Attendance: 48

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For some unfathomable reason — it's almost spring or the lunar eclipse or Lakey's finally leaving or the North Hills Shopping Experience is just too good to miss or something — hordes of hashing humanity descended upon Tipperary's Pub on a mild March evening.

They came from Thailand, Atlanta and even Edmonchuk, where it's winter almost all year round. In a shocking development, Limp Dick and Billythong managed to make it, only a day after their Mexican holiday, where the highs alternated between 30 and 31 for a week.

Then there was Baby — long-lost, missing and presumed dead, or was he just on an around-the-world adventure Baby — showing up for his annual "winter" run.

The masses gathered to celebrate the Feast of St. Kieran, an Irish saint who chafes at all the publicity accorded that other Irish saint who either did or didn't drive all the snakes out of Ireland. St. K's publicity machine obviously doesn't match up to that other saint's, who Kieran refuses to mention by name.

Mega-veteran co-hares Mydol and Pyro had planned for a usual winter hash crowd of maybe 25, but were taken aback by the numbers that eventually crammed into the relatively small room at the NW 16th Avenue pub after a sometimes-icy adventure on the streets of NW Calgary.

Post-run business was delayed slightly while awaiting the arrivals of Mucky Dip and Lamb Nuts, who must have thought the trail ran toward Cochrane or something. Oh, where, oh, where had Mucky and Lamby gone, oh where, oh where could they be?

Theories, of course, abounded: Lamb Balls thought he heard about an hourly room rate sale at Motel Village. Mucky became so irritated at his incessant babbling that she tried to lure him to the top of McMahon Stadium so she could push him over the edge. Or Lamby was waiting in line to buy $3,500 tickets for 30 seconds of face time with Michael Jackson in Japan. And the list goes on.

At one point, RA Skewbic became somewhat concerned, simply because Lamb Guts had the Hash Thingy — oh, sorry, because Mucky was missing. But like all good fairy tales, it had a happy ending: They returned safe and sound, and Lamb Appendix left early and got voted the Hash Thingy again in absentia.

There was also other business and shenanigans and whatnot, especially whatnot. For instance:

The previous week, Tastes Like Prunes and Sucks Her Chicken, or some version of those names, decided to do the same thing — which comes right around the time that Hottie and Bum Titty took the real dive, in Edmonchuk, of all places.

It's spring, sort of, and love must be in the air.

On On!
Duke of Hurl


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