Run #1346 - Another Live Zzzz....

July 9, 2007

Hare: Krusty
Where: Fish Creek Park - Votier Flats Parking lot
On-In: Friar's - Glenmore Landing, 1600 - 90th Avenue SW
Big Rock: Trad by the jug
Attendance: 30

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A semi-hobbling Krusty — showing that the M-word can adversely affect even those who are not of this planet — figured that a short trail was the best trail.

So short it was.

A holiday-sized crowd gathered in Fish Creek Provincial Park on a fairly cool July evening to traipse through the grasslands and woods, splash across the rushing water and eat popsicles at a re-group.

But where was everyone? Were others too drunk from Stampede to hash? Or too distraught from the Stamps' turd-in-the-punch-bowl performance against the Green Riders of Saskatchewan? Or were the elderly absentees trying to pace themselves for the upcoming Stampede hash in the badlands of Wayne?

Whatever the reason, they missed Lay 'Em and his obnoxious squeaking monkey, whose sounds were so offensive that even hearing-impaired Thunder Tits jumped back in horror.

And Pyro, who apparently was willed a pair of the recently departed Whale Wanker's worst short shorts from the 70s. Oh, the horror — and the therapy bills for everyone who was exposed to them.

Not to mention Clueless, whose newly decorated, be-jeweled and feathered boa Viking horns — her ensemble topped off by pink cowgirl gloves — made her look like a cross between Heidi Fleiss and a 1920s flapper, or maybe a faux Egyptian queen.

Ah, welcome to the hash, where pretty much anything goes, as long as there's beer involved.

Even though he had a post-marathon massage, Krusty still needed help setting the trail, so he enlisted Dr. Fill, fresh from a cold and wet Stampede breakfast at his real estate office. Fortunately, Dr. Fill thawed out enough from the morning's sogginess to assist Krusty.

So onward they plodded through the west side of Fish Creek Park, past a playground, which was actually a rope and some discarded notebook paper, and onto the end at the parking lot at the bottom of Elbow Drive.

Then it was onto old hash stand-by Friar's in Glenmore Landing, where the temporarily single Skewbic — blame it on Rio — dispensed his brand of big words and wisdom, such as it is. For example:

ON ON!
Duke of Hurl


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