ReHash #279

Shindagin Hollow provided abundant forest for Sunday’s Hash thanks to Hares Toothy and Fork-Me! The scenery was peaceful; but it didn’t take long for a murky moment to develop as Road Kill crouched in the bush during the hash-rest with twin-hashers Weenie Rider and Cherry Patch for what seemed like an eternity. Unfortunately, according to Road Kill, even the twins couldn’t match the seductive lure of a healthy sheep. It was also at this point that Air Jesus floated an impressive air-biscuit.

After the hash rest, the hashers seemed very focused as they climbed a formidable steep-up. Just before the hill, however, there was a stream that was very wet. Myself, Air Jesus, Spotted Dick and a few others made our way across the cold, cold stream (there was shrinkage) while the remaining– and more intelligent– hashers sipped a warm wine beverage. And then all the hashers were on their way again.

The Crooked Board was gracious enough to host the On-In (with a heads-up from Hare Toothy, of course); and the hashers got to take advantage of the Pre-Deer Season smorgasbord. The rib-sticking vittles consisted of chili, rigatoni with pepperoni, potatoes, bread, and some sort of mysterious meat. The food was hot, brown, and plenty of it! I remarked to Spike that the unexpected and tasty meal was indeed serendipitous (kind of like finding a $20 bill in your pocket). Spike advised me not to use the word serendipitous at the Crooked Board, unless I was ready to use my fists.

Capt. Weenie took charge of the hash cash. The virgin at the On-In was Joel. Needle-in-Thread was the visiting hasher from Washington DC (White House Hash). Just when Nape thought she was the bobbit, Rrrrrralph appeared with a note from her doctor allowing her to come by long enough to drop off the Pink Torpedo of Love (left over from the honeymoon; Bubbles– now you’re the man of the house!) All kidding aside, we were glad to see Rrrrralph was feeling better!

Projen committed a most depraved act by eating food before being properly sedated by down-downs. So, of course, Bam-Bam made her drink for it. Bam-Bam also announced that Spotted Dick and Cherry Patch ought to drink for being BLABs.

Awards included excessive prancing by Spotted Dick (especially after that cold stream– I was prancing a bit myself) which earned him the Hash Vessel. The author was awarded the Pink Torpedo of Love for posing for some rather unorthodox pictures at the Live Hash.

There was little, if any, respect for the latter trophy: Fork-Me! let it slip from her grasp into a bowl of chili, Snuggle Bunny wrapped a set of car keys around the swollen shaft, and Capt. Weenie tried to stick it to a mirror. And, perhaps worst of all, the Pink Torpedo of Love has turned up missing! I don’t mind saying that it was a wee-bit embarrassing telling the bartender that it was lost. We have begun asking the Crooked Board’s neighbors if they have seen a strange dick around. Also, pictures have been posted on near-by telephone poles and we are talking with the milk-carton people now to see about getting its picture in every grocery store from Cortland to Trumansburg. (Perhaps at the next hash the Pink Torpedo of Love should go to the bobbit, if you know what I mean).

See you next week! On-on!

Tequila Bill