Who set?
Porcelain Goddess
Who Came?
FertilizeHer
Trust Me, It Won’t Spread
Just Luci
Male Bait
Nurse TaKillya
DeFlower City
Head to Toe In Utero
Just Brendan
Butt Floss
TheUnitedAutoTwerker
Spike
Shitty Vagina Salad
Ookie Cookie
Tweedle You
Just Gretchen
Dunk and Chunk
Cold Cocked
Tastes Like 10th Grade
Shiggy Dog
Zephyr Dog
On a brisk December 8th, Hashers assembled at the Fall Creek House in Ithaca to celebrate all that is gaudy and horrible about the holidays. There were many hideous sweaters in attendance, especially to be noted; FertilzeHer with an Ebay special, SVS with a centrally located candle, Twerky with a very detailed atrocity, and the most special of all — Just Luci with a home-detailed monstrosity involving Dollar Store Santa faces, tiny stockings and a tree skirt. And bells.
After checking and discovering that trail did not, in fact, go straight up Lake St., most wankers listened to the cries of TRUE TRAIL and came back to explore the area across the street near Ithaca Falls. SVS explored it a little more than he needed to and ended up behind with a tear IN his behind. What happened in that abandoned building we may never know, as he ventured in alone. Eventually he caught up to us but not in time for a lovely photo op in front of Ithaca Falls (and an Rsomething).
Around and about IHS we scanned for flour, some of us followed true trail around the school, some of us followed the hare directly through to the underpass across Cayuga St. to a BN. Tasty was HOT but CoCo found the sack o beer under her feet first. Head showed off her amazing flexibility and endowment in an ecstatic yoga pose, Tasty tried out her new knitted mitten beer coozie courtesy of Nurse, and J. Brendan and SVS shot-gunned the last two beers before we headed out across the railroad tracks. It was the fastest shotgun ever.
Traveling at Hasher-speed, we made it to the mulch pile by the golf course where Nurse and Tasty brief(less)ly had a photo op and everyone traveled over the foot bridge to the lake shore. Discovering no beer there, we backtracked, sidetracked and piggybacked until we came to the Stewart Park playground. This time, Tasty was HOT and no one could claim to be hotter as she found a SHOT CHECK! Margarita green and Somethingsomething red jello shots were brought forth and devoured whilst Tweedle You and DeFlower City had a ‘French’ moment on the distant swirly swirly alien bug spinney thing-a-ma-bob and Spike, Nurse and CoCo played on the spiral slide. Just Luci was heard to exclaim about Floss, “He may not be hard, but he’s hard of hearing!” Trojan had a cameo – running in, grabbing a shot, and running off again. Geez, I hope he didn’t change any of our marks! Thankfully, no one was poisoned by the defective oozy red jello shot. That soldier laid where it fell despite several half-minds grabbing it and saying (as if for the first time) ‘hey, there’s one more shot here!’ I can’t believe we actually stopped hashers from eating a jello shot by claiming it was defective. What’s wrong with this picture? IT WAS OOZING BOOZE YOU BIMBOS! [seriously, i am laughing so hard right now]
Trotting past the visitor’s center and down Lake St. back toward the middle school, an R brought the FRB’s back just as Head was coming toward them. Inexplicably, she diverted into the parking lot of the school and for some dumb reason, we followed her. No one yelled ON ON, no one saw flour, yet there we were. We may not have found trail, but we did find a sword. And puke. Asked later why she went that way she explained it, “We went there before. I wanted to reminisce.”
Eventually werealized we were following a lost soul and backtracked to the last mark, where (huh? whaddyaknow?) the hare was waiting for us to figure it out. Across the street and up Remington was the only course left and the FRB’s gunned it up the steep hill. The rest of us followed trail through a very steep wooded area to end up on Renwick Dr and then up Devon Rd. Trail got a little treacherous here because we were in the land of RICH PEOPLE and it was hard to tell what was a park and what was private land. A very tiny R4 (hares can’t count) eventually led us to Sunset Park where most hashers had arrived. Turns out, we had lost a great deal of ppl on the R20 up Remington. 20 is a big number. It’s hard to count that high. Especially when the hare is auto-setting trail! As we sat enjoying the sunset at Sunset Park, we heard yelled off in the distance, “RU?” We yelled back in the dying daylight, illuminated only by decorative street lamps at the end of wealthy muggles’ long driveways, ONONON BEE EN BEE EN (super secret hash code).Trailing in are J. Brendan and CoCo with the promise that more are cumming!
Here cums our missing friends — SVS, Trust Me, FertilizeHer, Tweedle You, and DeFlower City! A Schnauzer challenged a curious Zephyr and sweet, gentle furpants came running back with his tail between his legs. As we laughed uproariously at our loving, wussy hash dog, a loud, deep manly voice shouted out from behind the thick hedgerow, “Get back here and quit picking on bigger dogs.” We paused for a second, silence fell over us ~~~ then we realized we weren’t in trouble and continued our enjoyment. It was then that it was pointed out that the ‘lost’ folks would have been there sooner if someone had marked true trail for them. Oops.
As it was getting quite dark at this point, we moved on-on down through the graveyard and erupted forth onto Lake St. once again, this time headed back to the Creeker for ON-IN and circle.
Since Master Baster was not present, Butt Floss stepped in to conduct the accusations. There were no dry lips in the house. Curious bar patrons came back to watch us in the pool table room, fascinated by our glittering sweaters and insatiable thirst. And the singing, shouting and rabble-rousing, of course. Everyone drank and was merry until it was time to venture forth into the winter wonderland once again…
Merry Hashmas, Everyone!