A Drinking Club with a Running Problem
THE RETURN OF MR. STIFFY HASH
By Mr. Stiffy
It was a beautiful June day, when Mr. Stiffy found himself driving home from his sister’s house in NJ, cruising up I-81 around 2pm, and saw the exit sign that said “Ithaca–thataway. He thought maybe, just maybe, I can make it over to downtown metropolitan Jacksonville NY by 3pm to surprise the hash. Despite slow moving motor homes and farm tractors, he made it to Hot Lips strawberry farm in time for some chalk talk, and amazed looks on the faces of the old time hashers on seeing Mr. Stiffy for the first time in….a while. Many hashers, both old and new were there–too numerous to mention. Noticeably absent was self-proclaimed regular hasher Butt Floss and his camera. Since no one else had a camera on trail, there is no actual proof that Mr. Stiffy was really there. That’s OK, because he doesn’t show up on film, or pixels either.
Hot Lips announced it would be an A to B hash, with B being his farm. So, how to get to A? Let’s see how many hashers we can fit in this tiny wagon attached to the van. Wow–18 people and 3 dogs. OK–now let’s see how fast it can go! When Mr. Stiffy opened his eyes, there we were at the scenic lookout parking area at Taughenook Falls park. Check it out! And away they went, over hill and dale, quickly giving up the high ground in the never ending search for flour, and more importantly, BEER! After what seemed like hours, and a hash rest with NO BEER, and a hash view with NO BEER, we finally came upon a BN, and that sweet nectar of the gods, BEER!
Next, the pack crossed roads, and streams, and crawled through a culvert, sometimes all at the same time, because it would not be a true Hot Lips hash without going through some long dark tunnels. After much stream running, and crossing, and running some more, we at last came upon more BEER on the other side of the stream. Many hashers took the chance to cool their ithcy scratchy bruised up legs in the deep part of the stream. This seemed like a goood idea to Mr. Stiffy, even though to this point he had no bruises or scratches or itches. Surprisingly, the tilted, slimy moss covered rock beneath the surface was NOT a good place to stand. Even parts of Mr. Stiffy’s body were no match for granite. Luckily, most of the damage was to his hand, which turned a lovely shade of purple. Hard to tell if anything was broken, but as Nurse was heard to proclaim, “It’s not broken if you don’t x-ray it.” Good preventative medicine there, Nurse Ta Kill Ya.
Back on trail/stream, much much more running at long last revealed an ON IN, and a shreiking FRB (Front Running Buddy) who true to her name, led the pack back to the farm. For some reason Baster chose to begin Circle just as the aroma of fresh grilled burgers filled the air, and fresh strawberries and cream were served to the hungry masses. Anyway, many hahsers drank, from the 4 newcummers who Hot Lips made cum, to the cums latelies (can’t seem to remember who they were), to the hash crashers (again memory escapes me), to the hare for a truly sh*tty trail. Several birthdays, anniversaries, hashing anniversaries and other commemorations were also celebrated with BEER. I wish I could remember the name of the person who did a bday side side. All I remember is she lapped up the BEER like a dog, to the amusement of PG. Finally, the HASHIT was recovered after a 3 year absence, and promptly awarded to Hot Lips, from whence he drank.
Just as cirlce concluded, the skies opened up and rain poured down upon the hashers. Mr. Stiffy felt this was a good time to leave, so he did.
The hash went in peace.
The hash got a piece.
The end.
Mr. Stiffy