ReHash #173

Hashers,

This weeks hash got underway on with Black Hole coercing hashers to take shots of some nasty tasting schnapps. The original purpose of this appeared to be for Homoses and Miss Shiggy to get loaded before the hash – a typical hashing display of loss and mourning – but it quickly escalated into most of the hash being told to get on their knees and take a shot. To add to the ceremonies Prickless and Toothy created for Homoses, Miss Shiggy and Hollywood some special last hash attire. Homoses got a lovely tootoo and was wearing a very tacky tie (I think the tie was his own idea and was not meant to complement the tootoo). Miss Shiggy got a bra to strut her stuff in. It was black and lacy and had tassels hanging from where we could only assume her nipples were. Some of the sex appeal was lost due to her wearlng it over her T-shirt, however. Hollywood, the Grand Master we never see, got a paper bag to wear – since he has been so invisible in his role and Grand Master that seemed appropriate. Who could ask for more touching parting gifts?

Typical of any hash set by Toothy, this hash began fairly flat but quickly became the rollercoaster of a hash that she is known for. I think Toothy’s natural hilly tendencies were in no way hindered by having Blueballs as a co-hare. Before we had even reached the first hill (which was not far into the hash) we encountered our first hashing obstacle. The hares had quit setting the trail. They did put a Y but past that there didn’t seem to be much of anything. Most people did the smart thing and went in the opposite direction from False Erection – and this turned out to be wise for eventually a hash mark was discovered.

Once the trail was rediscovered we went up hills and down hills and up hills and down hills and then we ran forever along a stunning path with an amazing view. When we finally came huffing and puffing up to the next check point it was observed that the hash was considerably smaller than it was earlier. Black Hole made the astute observation that perhaps the half marathon between hash marks had slowed some people down. Neither Toothy nor Blueballs seemed in any way concerned that their hash had lost half the hashers, most of them new. No, they seemed rather pleased. But to help the poor lost hashers we all yelled and whistled as loud as we could to attract any stray hashers. Stray hashers is the only thing that noise would have attracted. Every other living thing for miles ran in the opposite direction.

During a brief stop along the run Heinous STRIPPED in the middle of the trail. This was quite exciting until it became obvious that under his long black tights he had on short black tights. This is the same man who ran an entire hash with his shorts unzippedbut with black tights on underneath. He is almost risque, he wants to be risque, but he just can’t quite bring himself to BE risque.

At some point along the mini marathon between hash marks we had the most stunning hash crash I have ever seen. The only thing preventing it from being a perfect 10 was that it happened in near isolation. Only a select lucky few got to witness it and I am proud to say that I was one of them. Linda and her dog had a difference of opinion about exactly which direction they were going. This would not have been a problem had her dog not been on a leash, but it was. This difference of opinion led the dog to run around her and wrap her legs up in his leash. The next thing I saw Linda was flat on her back with the leash wrapped around her ankles and the dog running 1n all directions – not making it any easier for Linda to unwrap herself. I did not get to see how she extricated herself from the leash but she was eventually spotted running again. In a later and unrelated episode of clumsiness she managed to sprain her ankle.

Dogs were a theme this week. Aside from the usual Dexter and Pixie (two small, easy to avoid dogs) Blueballs was personally responsible for either bringing or encouraging owners to bring 8 other dogs. None of these dogs were as small and easy to avoid as either Dexter or Pixie. No, they were very large dogs who tended to stop in the middle of a narrow trail trying to find their owner. One dog also stopped frequently with a little bowel problem, which was a bit too shiggy even for a hash.

The hares clearly thought we were complete idiots when they set the last bit of the hash. We all knew that our cars were at the top of a big hill to the left, so what did they do but try to get us to run up the big hill to the right where it was obvious that we were going to have to turn rightaround and scramble back down. For anyone who had doubts as to whether or not to do the hill, Toothy gave the game away by immediately running up. Hares never lead the way unless they are trying to convince the hash to do something they don’t want to do. Despite these obvious clues, there were hashers that ran all the way up and back down the hill while the rest of us meandered along the stream at the bottom. When finally we ran up the appropriate hill the left they expected us to cross the road that was 1/8 of a mile from the cars, and run through the woods on the other side. Again, some hashers actually fell for this. They should feel really silly.

The on in was slow to get underway this week because there was a bit of a beer miscommunication. I had agreed to bring the remainder of a keg left over from a party this weekend thus allowing Toothy not to have to worry about hash beer. And I did think about bringing this keg, but after consulting with Prickless I decided not to. We felt that since generally after Toothy sets a grueling hash she then makes us drink out in the freezing cold, so we should take control of our destinies and prevent this from happening. If the beer wasn’t at the freezing cold end of the hash, we would all have to go to Road Kills place to do the on in (where I would have brought the keg). Little did I know that 1) it wasn’t all that cold out, and 2) we had a fire waiting for us even if it had been. Ooops. So Michael and I had to go buy hash beer before the on in could begin. That just goes to show that any plan is only as good as the responsibility of the friend involved in the plan.

At the start of this hash we had only one cripple – and Pebbles made no pretense of running. We quickly lost Misstep, who presumably kept Pebbles company. Soon after this Linda went down then Prickless sprained her ankle. Hashers were dropping like flies and I think this can be attributed to Pebbles gimpy aura. With all these options it was hard to decide who to give the Bobbit award to, but Pebbles was the only one who never even started the hash and therefor really cut the whole thing off. She drank for this once, then we realized that she had not drunk from the phallice chalice. So she got to drink again. Or, at least we sang to her again. In an unprecedented act of defiance Pebbles poured the beer out of the chalice into a cup and sat back down, refusing to drink.

Toothy, the phallically challenged, was given a second chance this week and was allowed to touch the phallice challice. She is on a phallic probation until she proves to us that she can be trusted to touch the phallice chalice unaided- so the hash, her phallic councilors, had to guide her through the whole pouring the beer and carrying it to Pebbles procedure. She did very well, but it will take more than this to regain our trust.

Other hashers that were honoured this week were Tex, Trojan and Skull for excessive athleticism, Skull, Bam Bam, Bubbles, Mike and Chris were racing, and False Erection for Biting. That is what my list says – biting. I dont know what, when or where he was biting but there it is in Homoses own scrawled writing. There is some chance it was actually biking, since False Erection does that almost everywhere. Hot Legs, Rich and Michael were welcomed back to the Hash and although nobody actually drank for whining I would like to give the award to Earl. He was complaining that Homoses wouldn’t take Toothies name for a down down because she set the hash and is hash beer so he wanted to be nice to her. I got the horses ass which I carried around proudly for a few short moments then promptly forgot. Does somebody have that? I have no idea who the hashit went to.

I hope to see all hashers at the going away hash for homoses and miss shiggy. If anyone knows electronically challenged hashers we should remember to call them so they find out about this unscheduled event.

Hairy Vetch