ReHash #176

Hashers,

Hashing was originally started by a bunch of drunk English army people in Malaysia who created hashing as a modified form of fox hunting. Iceblue Balls and I felt that there was no reason to pretend if we could do the real thing, so we came to the hash on horseback. Now, our original plan called for riding two relatively calm (or at least not outright insane) horses but when one of the horses (mine) went lame we were forced to move on to plan B. Plan B involved wandering around the barn complaning of our plight to whomever may listen until someone offered to lend us a horse. Plan B was successful and we procured a nice mare named Katy. I had never ridden Katy before. I had never even seen Katy before, but she seemed pleasant enough. She remained pleasant on the ride to the hash, and she was still pleasant when we arrived at the hash and Hot Lips tested his horn out. Katy was pleasant right up until the hash began and all those humans who were milling about began to move and yell. Katy didnt like that much. Katy didnt like me much after that. Katy wanted me on the ground in a very bad way.

While Katy was trying to toss me into a nearby bush that falling spirit must have been in the air because two people fell over the exact same twig in the first few feet of the hash. It wasn’t even a big twig really. Linda (whose hash crashing tendancies may deserve a name) fell first and Hot Legs claims he was watching her fall as he came across the same twig and went down beside her. My general hashing strategy is that if I see someone else get hurt – I don’t do the same thing. I get out of the way. It is differences like this that make this world the glorious diverse place that it is. Linda and Hot Legs may have had the official hash crashes but Bubbles shared the award with them for his bloody nipple. Nobody seems to know the reason for the bloody nipple (and I am curious how anyone found out about it in the first place) but I did notice that Rrrraaaaalph was in town for the weekend. . .

Once all the hashers were back on their feet they ran off down the trail without either of the hares. I was far behind the hash trying to convince Katy that we could be friends and Prickless was stuck behind us, afraid to pass. This set a trend for much of the hash. In fact, the stretch from Monkey run to 13 along the creek was done entirely without hares – a tribute to what a fine job the hare that set this part of the hash did. True, the reason Prickless wasn’t with the hash was because she was lost but I don’t think that was my fault. As the hash was running that part of the trail Iceblue Balls and I were up on the railway grade trying to reteach Katy how to walk. You would think it would come naturally but she was preoccupied with trying to see how many of her hooves she could get off the ground at the same time. All good athletes need a challenge. As most of the hash was running the titilating and exciting long stretch along the railway grade out of the bushes popped Tex, Joe, and Bob WAY behind the hash. What were they doing in the bushes I wonder?

Tex, Joe and Bob may have been murky, but they were not nearly as murky as TroJan and I am going to write his name as Gi – since that is the first part of his name. I can’t write it phonetically because there is no English phonetic way to write it. Damn those foriegners! These two missed almost all of the hash. They were finally spotted in the bushes across the creek from the hash at a hash rest. They tried to hide their shame by emerging from the bushes 50 feet apart, but we all know they weren’t that far apart originally.

At the on in we were lucky enough to have cold beer waiting for us thanks to Bubbles and Rrrraaaalph. They did an excellent job as stand in hash beer. The hashers were well on their way through the beer by the time Iceblue Balls and I came running up. We had bailed on the hash and decided not to tempt fate any longer. We showed up on our own two feet after returning the horses. Many of the down downs this week were given for events not at the hash but at one of two parties last week. I was thanked (insincerely I think) for my hospitality – Bam Bam blamed me for how he felt Saturday morning and was spiteful that I was smart enough to switch to water BEFORE 4 in the morning. I also lost a bet with False Erection about what time he would be at work on Saturday and had to do a drink for it. What kind of fool leaves a party at 3 and is logged on by 8???????? It seemed like a safe bet. From this same party Tim was named Wet and Sticky (no explanation needed) and Heinous got the last name Wet Spot (he SAID it was the drink) so he is now Heinous Wet Spot. Bob was named Four Balls – Heinous thought Skulls description of Bob as four dogs Bob was Four Balls Bob. Why he though Skull knew how many balls Bob had I don’t want to know. Iceblue Balls almost got renamed Bareback but she blew it and smiled when they said the name. That ruined it for her and she is stuck with her old name. She also drank with Cocktail for leaving Bam Bam’s bar-b-que then reappearing at 2 am and waking him up. I think Bam Bam should have drunk with them for falling asleep at his own party. Prickless and I drank not only for setting a fine hash but also for bickering at the on in. She DID leave the elvis in my car. There were not many special awards this week. One half of the horses ass False Erection gave to somebody. I don’t remember who. The other half he kept because it had been JSHAD’s and since he wasn’t there and False Erection was standing uphe got it. Prickless gave the Hashit to Heinous Wet Spot for his totally inappropriate shirt with "manly man" emblazoned across the back. Maybe in New Mexico, but here in Ithaca we have standards! After all the down downs were over who came running along but Dishonorable Discharge in full army camoflage and covered in smeared green paint. As is the custom when he wanders in late we greeted him with a fine rendition of our glorious anthem and made him drink beer.

The next hash will be set by Shiner and Gi at some unknown location. This hash will be run without the religious advisor, hash cash, hash beer or hash scribe who will all be drunk in Pittsburg. It will be a formless, amorphous hash without the guidance of these fine hash officers. What will they do without us?

On On