Hared by A$$wipe and Loofah
Legend:
McP(FRB) = Red, Heartache (DFL)= Green
Run Stats:
87 hashers; 15 new boots, 3 visitors, 9 reboots
Quote of the run:
McPisser — “At least there aren’t any people from the f*cking CHAIR FORCE!”
Converging on the long Memorial Day weekend, your hares Ass Swipe and Loofah threw down a mix of urban and medium-light shiggy in the blistering, almost summer heat. The pack met along 290, and could sense that they were in for a treat as the start offered little to no shade. Manstration already sported a splotchy ginger kid burn, and was promised more of the same.
Loofah!
Without a cloud in the sky, Ass Swipe brought out what he called, “some of the fastest people in Houston” and what McPisser called, “second to me!” All in all everyone thought the same thing – f*cking r*cists. Your brave hares began their live trail with without really explaining the ins and outs of hashing, which made for a FRB pack of VERY confused r*nners. The first 20 minutes were nothing but incredibly fast new boots trying to understand signals, whistles, and various calls from behind. They seemed confused. I liked it.
The pack caught up around the first check-from-hell located along a two lane road with three distinct shiggy possibilities. While most of the pack wandered along a bayou, someone finally caught a mark ahead which could only be accessed under a bridge or over a 10 foot tall fence. Fly high little bunnies! Up and over they went, trying their best to stabilize the chain link under some *ahem* muscular hound buttocks. On-on through a maze of green belts, little to no shade, slowly failing r*nners, and the pounding Houston heat. But what is that?! A beer check! Glorious beer and water! But alas, cruel irony. Those FRB r*nners and new boots stole all the beer! Little did they know a true trail arrow to nowhere awaited them, enough to run off all the delicious libations they so greedily devoured.
Ass Wipe laying trail.
Around this time, we’d seen the shadow of a man weaving around railroad tracks, disappearing whenever he pleased, and all the seasoned hashers asked: where the hell is Heartache?! In and out the curmudgeon wove, apparently taking out over 10 miles of trail, demanding that, “he knew where we were going!” As the hounds trodded along to the shitty smelling shiggy, Heartache was nowhere to be found. At least his excursion avoided the dead and or dying carcass smell that rose from the heat pressing down upon something in its final hours.
Also, I should mention the tale of Roll Model and her brush with a security guard/aka wanna-be-cop who threatened the WALKERS from beyond a fence. Little did the officer know that to bitch at Roll Model was a sin against manners and decency and she let him have a piece of her mind. Flaming Asshole and Slurpico let it be known, upon their arrival, that Roll Model was almost arrested for flagrancy and outrage. The hash commends her efforts to keep our image alive.
Giggly new boots.
The On-In featured giggly new boots, some so disgusted they left early, and Loofah’s deflouring. Ewe Do Her and McPisser brought 2 new boots a piece and the virgins were awarded an honorary down-down for remaining the entire circle. Again, we celebrated Hooter’s birthday and 30 YEARS OF HASHING by offering him a down-down with our honored veterans. Two kegs floated in record time and the On-On-On was held with much beer bonging at Brickhouse. Wonderful run, great turnout, and a nice offering for Loofah’s virgin go.
ONON
EZ 2 Please