Date: Saturday December 19, prescription 2010
Hares: Il Castrato, apoplectic Horny Hussy, Sex Toy, Buttery Nipples
Quote of the Run: “Where are all the toys? I was told there would be toys.”
Porter! Lone Star! Odd shaped gourds on trail! Just another fun run brought to you by the zany Il Castrato and his co-hares. We met at the Park and Ride on the East Side, near a vaguely familiar stretch of the never-ending Maxey Road. In fact, Il Castrato, myself, and Krusty Kreme laid a pretty ballin’ Full Moon in the area, not to mention 2008’s Bataan Death March. Everyone expected the trail to swerve West into the park on the first go! Where else could the trail lead but to the park? When the pack was off, we veered North before hitting Maxey Road, confusing and disturbing the hounds. After a gentle jog down Maxey, we finally dove into Herman Brown park and the potential for all sorts of disaster! The shiggy was thick yet runnable and your faithful On-Sec thanks the hares. It was the first time my sweet Remy got to experience the green East of I-10 (because let’s face it, after that point you’re pretty much f@$ked).
At the end of the neighborhoods and before the great shiggy plunge, the hounds picked up a cute little dog in one of the neighborhoods next to the park. We decided to name him Alfred for some ridiculous reason and without a distressed call from any owner, we continued forward with our new hound. No one quite wanted to stop the little guy since he seemed to be enjoying himself too much. The first shiggy had some water, light climbing, and a Mission Impossible style cling to a chain link fence. Upon meeting the road again, the hounds were caught between a highway, and an abandoned lot with boats. While this check was the hardest at the time, it was far from the hardest all around. Little did the hounds realize, but they were about to fight their way through a maze of shiggy, hills, and water over the next few miles. Finally, it was the move into shiggy we’d all known was coming, and the pack drove straight into the great unknown forest.
The woods were low hung (ha ha) and threatening as the hounds tried desperately to stay together. The marks, while at an acceptable distance and eye-height, were blurred by the array of trees, sago palms, and pine trees. There were briars, water crossings, mud, and thorns, all of which at times had to be crossed by crouching through. At one point, the pack split into smaller groups, divided between the woods, and I found myself desperately fighting the shiggy behind FRB’s as they plowed through. I couldn’t lose them or I too, would be lost! Unfortunately for your faithful On-Sec, the hounds at front are indescribably fast and don’t care a crap about swinging branches or the people behind them. Face shots! We thought we were safe at the huge shipping yard, but were only met with a patch of cleared land and the potential for easily falling. Damn those hares!
Apparently there was a water and beer check in a grassy area which was rumored to be stolen by kids on 4 wheelers. Regardless, the pack continued, hoping to outwit the hares and find the end soon. The shiggy was too thick for true ranging, and many of the pack stayed close enough to hear whistles ahead. The hounds were being turned around in a semi-circle without even knowing about it! Finally the trail dumped into a clearing of tall grass and power lines. We’d been running with Horsefli and Ramrod who are both total run jocks and liable to kill someone with a single mile under 6 minutes. It was too much for my withered body and there was no sound from behind signaling the pack at our heels. But wait! A person in the distance! Someone gave away the position of the On-In (I hear it was McPisser) and the hounds were off once more, snapping and gnarling for some beer and much needed shiggy free rest! And there it was, the banana Slut Mobile and Il Castrato patiently waiting for us to finish. The walkers seemed fine and the runners collapsed. What a shiggy trail.
Our visting Portland Hasher Captain Von Poopy Pants made a fortune selling the famous beer, bacon, nerd, bimbo, and shiggy socks while being the apple of every single harriette’s eye. What a dream boat! Grind Slut’s car was defiled by Albert as he took a particular interest in a towel in the front seat. In fact, Albert humped the poor towel so hard, I’m sure it will never recover. Our new friend’s owners were called and Grind offered kindly to return the horny little mutt to his house even if the humping was very endearing to the hashers. With socks on, dog humps seen, and an On-On-On that everyone KNEW was closed, we all ended up at the Flying Saucer for good beer, bughouse, and food.
A most excellent shiggy run indeed!
– EZ to Please