12/14/14
Hares:
Arachnoflowbia
Porcelain Goddess
Hounds:
Pack n Play
Butt Floss
Tastes Like 10th Grade
Captain Smashballs
Master Baster
Just Chris
Just Katie
Virgin Juliet
Head to Toe In Utero
Nurse TaKillya
Brown Hole Delivery
Spike
Thank you cum again
Handy and Ellie
Ookie Cookie
Just Hallie
Bobbits
Trust Me it Won’t Spread
Fertilize Her
Another gray December Sunday arrived in Ithaca. The Hash House Harriers awoke in their beds, in someone else’s bed, on the floor and in their cars. They rolled over (slowly), waited to see if it hurt to do so, and rubbed the crust from their eyes, nose, mouth and genitals. Perhaps they fixed themselves a cuppa, a bloody mary or went straight to a locally produced, free-range, organic IPA. Feeling slightly more human, they rummaged around in the backs of their closets, sneezing, as they moved piles of clothes long forgotten from last year’s Ugly Christmas Sweater Hash. Wrinkling their noses against the oncoming next sneeze, they shook out their musty cotton appliqued sweaters and pulled them over their noggins.
From the far flung locales of Trumansburg, King Ferry, Lodi, and Lansing the hounds gathered in the parking lot of local legendary tavern The Fall Creek House aka The Creeker. Those who arrived early enough enjoyed a prelube in the private party room in the back and those who didn’t gathered in the parking lot. Chalk talk was given by PG and Flobie, virgins were introduced and sweaters were admired. Hounds who were inappropriately dressed were duly chastised as the lazy unenthusiastic bastards that they are. Outfits of note included Just Hallie in a cozy fleece onsie, Flobie in a Christmas Tree Tiara, Tasty in a double layer of bespangled toggery, Handy in blue lame [I don’t know how to insert accent marks! Read as la-MAY not as rhymes with shame, of which we have none] and blue wig, and perennial hash twins Nurse and Brownie who wore personally designed naughty sex position sweatshirts with hand-crocheted Santa hats, FTW.
The hounds took off in every direction searching for flour. Thank you cum again was on the right trail but no one could understand his gestures, his arms flung into the air looked more like an ‘I don’t know if I’m on or not’ than a ‘Y’ (perhaps his hand signals have an Indian accent, too?) and it was mysteriously loud right next to the waterfall and roadway so his shouts could not be heard. Eventually he ran back to scold us and we got the message.
Running along the creek the FRBs found an ‘R’ and we backed up to Lake St. and moved toward the athletic fields for the Middle and High Schools. It was here that PG brought out her (in)famous snickerdoodles. Game on-on. Portion sizes were discussed, newbies were warned and everyone placed their faith in each other.
The FRBs found another ‘R’ and Ookie led the pack across the road and up the hill to Lake View Cemetary. Crossing willy-nilly through the cemetary, Head found her final resting place (also the naming place of long-lost hasher Dong of the Dead). At a ‘Y’ Floss and Tasty went left for the high ground while the rest of the pack went right on the low road. Realizing the the two paths would eventually meet even though they were not on trail, Floss and Tasty continued on the high road and discovered that they had an excellent vantage point with which to pelt the wanks below with snowballs.
The two groups eventually converged at the top of the cemetary for a Beer Near! It was here that Tasty removed a layer of glittery vest goodness and put it up for a vote with Baster’s help as to who was underdressed. The beauteous Christmas vest was handed over to Floss after passing by Just Travis and Ookie Cookie.
After imbibing our brews, we took off in search of flour and once again, Floss and Tasty got separated from the group, thinking that they were shortcutting…and being completely wrong. Keeping an eye on Spike through the barren yards of Cayuga Heights, they managed to work their way back to the group and converged upon Sunset Park where there was absolutely no flour whatsoever. What the hounds found in the park, however, was pristine snow in prime condition for building a snow dick. A 6′ tall phallus with giant testicles was erected in no time at all with almost everyone pitching in to help. Pack N Play especially loved the giant genitals. The hares giggled from the edge of the park and Floss took video and pictures. It was truly magnificent.
We scampered back the way we had cum to find our way back to flour and had a hard time of it. Eventually we found our way along Stewart Avenue and stopped on the bridge to admire the view. It was quite impressive – – the city was frosty and the air was thick and white in the distance.
On the other end of the bridge, trail crossed over to the far side and we wound our way up the side of the gorge to the Pedestrian Suspension Bridge where the FRBs found a false trail on the other end but got to enjoy running back and forth across the dizzying expanse. We made our way up to University Avenue and over to The Johnson Museum where they had a mesmerizing light show installed in the ceiling of the portico. The snickerdoodles were having full impact at this point and we paused for a Hot Beverage Check. Smashballs was nearly catatonic and Tasty was a little paranoid. She kept edging toward the road and looking for escape routes. Pretty sure the hot drink was a minty hot chocolate something or other. Tasty and Head decided to scout for trail while everyone else was still loitering. They found flour going toward Libe Slope and then down through the slope where some semblance of sledding was attempted and down to Gothic Way where Thank You Cum Again paused to rest on a giant snow bench. We ran through Flora Rose House and the other dorms then past Hot Truck to the Ithaca City Cemetary. Baster flew past a J Hook that was in a vaccuum cleaner bag right out in the open on the path in the cemetary. While he returned to the DFLs other hashers found Beer Near #2. I don’t remember this at all.
According to PG, we then “went up University and came down Gun Hill to the Creeker. Nothing fancy or special.” That must be why I don’t remember a damn thing.
When we arrived at the Creeker for Circle, we discovered Bobbits who had been there waiting for us –> Trust Me it Won’t Spread and Fertilize Her! We all gathered in the back room and PG passed around some laminated booklets that she had specially made for the occasion. The booklets turned out to be naughty hasher Christmas carols! When we had all settled in with pitchers of beer and dry socks we joyously sang in nearly-harmony, loudly and proudly, until notice was taken by the muggles in the next room. Several civilians checked us out but one woman was particularly taken by us and jumped right into the festivities. We gave her a robust version of ‘Meet the Hashers’ and sent her on her way with a smile.
Happy XXXMas Everyone!
On-On to Screw Year!