A Drinking Club with a Running Problem
Mark Twain once said, “New Year’s is a harmless annual institution, of no particular use to anybody save as a scapegoat for promiscuous drunks, and friendly calls and humbug resolutions” . . . surprisingly this hash managed to live up to all three of these and then some!
Yes I am writing this on new year’s eve, because like Road Kill, my date fizzled out on me before the night even started so I’m drinkin’ champagne with my computer.
OK, here goes . . . Dances with Head arrived early to set the hash but instead managed to stand around with me drinking beer pondering the year past and future, whether or not we would be the only 3 hashing this fine sunny Dec day, and how long Floss would survive the excursion hashing on one lung. Eventually we had philosophized long enough and decided to head over to the Big M to have a short pub crawl around town. Man were we in for a surprise afternoon.
Arriving at the start we see two virgins with Hot Lips who are dressed in running gear, we introduce ourselves to Just Mark and Just Amanda, and not wanting these new hashers to think we just sit around and drink all the time, Dances decides to set off and live hare some sort of trail. After he leaves, Road Kill and his passenger Women There come careening into the parking lot (literally), the door flies open, WT falls out looking pale and yelling something about RK’s poor driving skills, and how he now knows how he got his name. Two BABE-ies also pull in to the parking lot. Bedside and UFO, who were actually dressed as the 2007 babies, complete with pacifiers and diapers- which believe it or not, did come in handy later as you will see . . .
We decide to take off after Dances, and by the time we catch up to him at the first (and ironically only) beer check at Little Venice, we were a group of TEN hashers! After this stop, Hot Lips asked to take control of the chalk and set the next part of trail. Road Kill convinced me that we needed to visit Trojan’s since it was New Year’s Eve and he does have a pool and hot tub . . . so we take off running towards Trojan’s house, which anyone who knows my sense of direction ended up being MUCH further away than I thought, and all uphill– After arriving at Trojan’s we find no one home, and Road Kill decides that the wool from the sheep he brought with him from the farm up the street might clog up the hot tub, so we leave it undefiled. After running back down hill for a ways, we see far, far away what appears to be the hash trudging through a muddy field. This confused us as we thought the hash was supposed to be urban and was supposed to head back to town for more beer, but anyways we decided to check it out.
This is where the hash gets really crazy as the trail continued through swampy fields, into the next county (seriously), and- gasp!- behind two drinking establishments that we didn’t stop at, eventually the hash is no longer following chalk but sticks sticking out of the ground with grass stuck on top, and everyone is wondering how the heck Hot Lips ran this far with a 10 minute head start….and only one small piece of chalk. Something was definitely not right here. A short 26 mile jog later (or so it felt like…) through parts of tburg trails I had never seen before, the hash finally ends up back in the big M parking lot. Who do we find there with Hot Lips but Trojan in his student driver car- hey, maybe the hash can get Road Kill some driving lessons for his birthday this year? Just before we reach the parking lot however, Bedside has a major hash crash down a hill and messes herself, but thankfully because of the diapers, she was clean enough to head over to the on-in at Chez LOA’s. At this time, several of the hashers who knew Dances had found a key to a Toyota on trail watched and giggled as Hot Lips got in his car wondering how he was going to start it, only to see him speed away . . . getting away once again as the key was not his, or any other hashers for that matter.
Down-downs commenced with the hares- DWH, Hot Lips, who we find out had help from Trojan. Down-downs were then given out to our virgins, Just Mark and Just Amanda- Just Amanda said that Hot Lips made her come (she mentioned that he had told her about the hash some 12 years ago. WOW…that’s a LOT of foreplay!), and then I was quite shocked to hear Just Mark exclaim that it was me who made him come, because I didn’t even remember him! He then explained he ran into Toothy and me while we were setting trail in Monkey Run . . . and that Toothy has been trying to get him to come for some time, but apparently I succeeded since she was not around.
Other down-downs were given for various offenses, hash crash victim Bedside, dog owners LOA and UFO, Road Kill for getting turned down by not just one but two women for New Year’s dates while at Little Venice (something about his dancing skills which are apparently as uncoordinated as his driving skills, funny I never thought I had so much in common with Road Kill other than our age-), Road Kill and myself got a down-down for a hot, sweaty, murky moment on trail (thankfully no one found out about the back injury he sustained while we were on this murky moment), WT got to drink for many things I can’t remember in addition to being a passenger in Road Kill’s car with the hopes the extra beer would make it a more pleasant ride home for him. Forgotten mug down-downs were dolled out to WT and RK…..who continues to whine that his mug got broken years ago and he no longer has it. Funny, Spike’s mug is a little worse for wear and he always seems to drag his along. Cum’s Latelies….WT, RK and Trojan drank. BLEABs, BLABs, FRBs and DFLs drank also. DWH drank for mentioning the “M” word on trail and Floss, the dumb ass, joined him for flashing an “M” word shirt underneath his hash shirt on trail.
Trojan then presented two brand new hash awards, awarding me a shiny new horses ass award since the one I had been previously given fell apart, and I made a new year’s resolution to make sure this one gets back in hash circulation promptly (meaning that Floss is no longer allowed to touch my ass!). Trojan awarded Floss a new kitchen apron complete with rising penis attachment. The hash should have awarded Trojan a down-down for his Martha Stewart skills on this one, it’s quite amazing how many skills this man has as Road Kill pointed out, but somehow we were all so busy staring at it in amazement as it went up and down, we forgot.
From here the last circle of the year was closed, the hash headed (HEAD!..who said head…) to Ron Don’s where more beer was drank, we all rang in the new year with a call to Pussy Pong over in Cypress and then everyone headed home to their New Year’s parties- speaking of, it’s almost midnight, gotta drag Floss to the nearest bar for some more champagne! See ya at the 500Th in two weeks!!!
Bring On-On 2007,
Little Oral Annie