Run #1546 - Hyena's Heinous and Horny Hash Run

December 1, 2010

Hare: Hyena
Where: Stix Bar
Big Rock: amidst a forest of Christmas Trees
Attendance: 35

Due to the offensive nature of last night's run, our trusty scribe can't even bring himself to write publicly about the heinous acts of perversion that occurred on Monday's run. As this hash's Religious Advisor, I find myself quivering and shuddering as I recount the horrible acts this hash continues to commit on these weekly ritual runs. You should all be deeply admonished and beaten. Oh crap - I realized I have just encouraged more of this type of behavior. There is no real hope for this Hash. You deviants.

On a dark, not-so-stormy, not so warm, not so cold night, the Hash gathered at Stix Bar for the start of another Hyena Live Hare run.

Before the call to circle-up there was a strange hush over the hash. Maybe it was all the revolting things said to fellow hashers by Rusty Dick, Dickens Cider, and 3rd Erection as they staggered around Friday Night's holiday party in a drunken stupor. Perhaps it was the misery of Calgary being the third or fourth best team in CFL, having lost to the green watermelon suckers, who in turn lost to a team called (of all things macho and tough), the Alouettes. Could it instead have been sleep deprivation from the Grey Cup hash run? This hasher's privately held thought is that perhaps they were sunk deep in their own deviant little thoughts of what acts they were about to commit in the run to come.

Complete pandemonium broke out from the start as hashers squinted at and tasted the droppings that Hyena left for the Hash to follow. Spitting out the seeds, hashers at times found it to be popcorn, other times, just some other animal dropping. It was difficult to distinguish. He redeemed himself for his green choice's (which ironically included green flour which no one could see either) with one hell of a great regroup choice Ð I understood it to be some poor hungry man's trailer that Hyena had promised donations and empty beer cans to turn into cash in exchange for using his firewood and warming fire. In the end, a twoonie may have hit the donation box, and Hyena had second thoughts about his aluminum offer, slinking off with the empty beer cans to cash in for his own charity instead - Humidor and Hoosier. The on-in bar was a stellar choice with a spacious private area, food, and cheap watered down beer. Yet this was the good part and I have skipped far ahead. For shortly into the run, little more than the worst of debauchery was committed.

Apparently there isn't a single female in the Hash who doesn't go down while on trail (example Chick Lick), premeditate they will go down soon (Chick Lick), talk about going down (Princess Monkey Spanker, Rode-a-Dick, and Julie), or proudly announce to the entire hash that they always like to finish at the same time whenever they are paired in 69's and downing each other, (Buried Pleasure and Pink Meat). Deviants.

It spread (pun intentional) from the Harrierettes to the Harriers, with Lay Em in Snow feeling compelled to inform Hello Klitty that he goes down quite often.

Abandoned Pussy in a hormonal rampage fondled an unsuspecting though certainly appreciative, King Shit with some very heavy and disturbing petting. Deviants.

Slutter Slut placed the cherry on top of the slut sundae when he physically molested a Santa Claus statue at the regroup and pressed it into service performing some sort of wood fellatio. Is nothing at all sacred to this hash? As if this wasn't far enough over the edge, Chick Lick showed up again before run's end yammering about something that could not be understood by anyone else, since she had "something" in her mouth (although it was duly and accurately noted that she did indeed look sexy with something in her mouth). Deviants.

The model that our Hashers and Harrierettes are setting for the younger generation is not a shining example either. When asked who was responsible this time for the article of clothing found under Pink Meat's pillow, it was Hyena who stepped forward... to claim little Hoosier's touque! Seriously Hyena?!

Lost in Space left no question in mind as to what he was advertising Monday night by showing up in his latest sex sling apparel. No one in the Hash had a strong enough stomach to ask if he had brought the matching ball-gag along or not. Deviant.

Aspirin made a Freudian slip when he called Rubbermade by the name RubberBoobs instead. Rubbermade, never one to miss an opportunity, countered with a seductively toned question about how having an aspirin might make her ache go away. Deviants.

There were but a few Hashers recognized for non-deviant acts. Blue Balls was awarded a big bouncing beer for completing 900 runs, Baby was recognized for wearing a beautiful black color, and Wilma was finally officially named for having such tightly pursed lips for so long in the Hash. Forever more she will be known in Hash circles as Tight Lips.

In review, the choir of Party Pumper, Skewbic Hair, and Rode-A-Dick , was absolutely raunchy, off-key, and a poorly thought out choice by the R.A.. Skewbic Hair looked like the Sesame Street "one of these things isn't like the others" pictured next to 2 gorgeous Harrierettes. But alas, the lack of singing prowess by our two Harrierette gems could not be masked by their beauty. It still sounded similar to Roseann Barr's famous National Anthem rendition (though our girls chose to swallow after singing a song to themselves instead of spitting at the end). All three showed absolutely no respect for the position of R.A., singing not only poorly, but choosing to break into song when it had not been requested, forcing the R.A. to down himself to save face. Apparently downing one's self is not just for dogs anymore.

All of this left Mucky Dip confused and baffled as she drank a down-down for bashing without hashing... what the hell had she just missed?

Run #1546 - Part Duh!

Click here for Photos!

Regular and assorted semi-regular hashers gathered at new venue Stix to sample the latest in Hyena fashion, which scarily always includes rubber boots. In a move designed to daze and confuse, Hyena chose to mark his latest live hare trail in a new and wonderful way - birdseed (aka popcorn seeds). It does have the advantage on snow in that it isn't completely white, but light brown doesn't really stand out on anything else. Then again, if you hadn't eaten beforehand, you could have collected the trail and taken it home to pop it.

Whatever, this seedy trail did have some twists and turns, which led to a cozy regroup complete with a blazing fireplace and faux-forest surrounding. To get to the regroup though you had to be able to find the birdseed, which proved tricky in a few cases.

After running a couple of complete circles, your scribe found the RG completely by accident, only to be rewarded with warm beer. Really warm, not just room temperature. Hyena did mention something about warm beer in the circle, maybe because he had it sitting on the furnace in his garage. But who listens to hares? They just lie anyway.

The circle heard all about poor Wilma, along for the umpteenth time and needed naming, so the pack was told to keep an eagle eye out for potential indiscretions. I for one was too busy running in concentric circles to notice much, but more on Wilma later. Back at Stix, the crowd drank and yakked for an appropriate amount of time before down downs commenced.

At the last second a scribe was appointed, ta da..., which accounts for the lack of content as I wasn't paying much attention to anything prior to that. It's sort of like the first day of school, when Edna Crabapple says, "Today class we are going to write about what we did for summer vacation" and you realise you were asleep for most of it.

Anyhow, a choir was anointed, and Party Pumper and Rhoda Dick were joined by Skewbic Hare (aka 'Dippy') to regale us with song. Hyena drank for his seedy trail, warm beer regroup, and various other offenses. Then RA Mister Beater started on the long list of the night's sexual offenses. Hello Klitty appears to go down all the time, but details are lacking. Apparently PM Spanker, Rhoda Dick and Julie have the same tendencies, which shouldn't be counted against them at all.

Lack of sordid details didn't stop anyone from choosing their fave song - Sex is Boring. Chick Lick managed this with something in her mouth, which is a skill enviable to some, shocking to others. In a hormonal moment, Abandoned Pussy lost all control and started fondling King Shit, which just goes to prove that those preggie impulses really are uncontrollable. Pink Meat and Buried Pleasure were caught doing a 69. Happily they finished together, even if Ms. Pleasure doesn't have any hasher's hats secreted under HER pillow. Wilma, bless her heart, fit right in with the group this night and so has the new name 'Tight Lips'.

New/Visiting hasher Aspirin was able to render Ms. Made almost speechless with his mistaken naming of her - 'RubberBoobs'. To relieve her stress, Ms. Made is now swallowing 2 Aspirins every morning, with a limit of 6 times per day. In other news, tissue sales have skyrocketed.

In non-sex related events, Shutter Slut did something to earn him the temporary name 'Destructo-Man' and so earned himself a hash thingy. It doesn't really matter what he did - the thingy just looks good on him. Baby was back from Barbados, where he was down downed no matter what colour he chose to wear, black, blue, canary yellow... so in an attempt to create a new trend in the Hash, whoever wears the same colour as him on any given night shall receive a down down - all the better for distributing beer at RA time. Start sending him your cast off 80's neon clothing, and maybe Dreary can chip in with some tights.

Not to be outdone in the fashion sense, Mucky Dip had to put up with a down down for showing up late in decidedly non-hashing attire. Black, blue, street dress, running attire, it’s all good for a beer.

To cap everything off, Blue Balls has now hashed in Calgary 900 times, costing him $2,700 in discretionary income. That's why hashers only need half a mind, so we don't notice the slow steady seep of cash from our pockets.

The last note in my scribbles either says 'Lost in Space & Sex Toys' or Lost in Space & Sex Boys, or maybe even 'Lost in Space & Sex Togs. In any case I'm not going there.