Run #885, Feb., 18th 1996

Hares: Cocker and Will-He-Peter
Scribe: "Steve" the un-named Hasher

In the begining- at the institute of higher learning (an Elementary School)- the Hares expounded upon the virtues of the "Trail" and the huddled masses milled about, yearning to breath air that was not polluted by the hares palaver. I do recall ejaculations on the evils of the "Double Toilet Paper Trail." The Hares finally ceased their utterances and the Hash was off.

On-on to the run. ..

If you were there you know it was all the Hares described and more, or less, (depending on your angle of attack). A glorious afternoon and miles of shiggy before we drank. The hot-line had prophesied a high sock, dry shoe run. While high socks were certainly a prudent precaution considering the shiggy, which included more than one small briar patch, many an opportunity was presented to get wet. Most ignored these opportunities as the putrid odors emanating from these open sewers was less than inviting. Those that did sieze the moment were obvious by their mud-caked extremities during Down-downs. I will cease my abstract of the actual run, because describing a run is like describing sex ... it might get you excited, but you don't get the full benefits unless you actually do it. Besides, after down-downs I can't remember much else about the run.

Ah, the benefits of this particular trail ...

Like... two Kegs! One of which was provided gratis by Pete's Wicked Ale. Pete's Wicked Ale T-shirts were also provided; FREE. To secure this bounty for the Hash, Finger F*** described late night phone calls during which promises were made, the results of which allow the Hash to partake of FREE BEER (one keg will be supplied monthly).

Oh Happy Days ...

Free Beer, hot sweaty runs and harriettes--(not necessarily in that order)- It don't get any better than this...

Well actually it did get better, you didn't have to pump your own (beer that is). A cannister of gas and a regulator were supplied. Although the regulator appeared to have been retrieved from theaforementioned open sewer and functioned only marginally better than it looked, it did manage to spew forth the contents of the vessel. Many exclaimations and exaltations as to the quality of the beverage were heard as the keg was consumed. Many of the less dedicated alcoholics commented on the high specific gravity, while the true beer-o-philes rejoiced in the long lasting head.

The local constabulary made an appearance with dire warnings of possible misfortune at the hands of the locals. After ascertaining our intention of standing our ground, they retreated.

Down-downs commenced...

Due to my drunken stupor at this time I can recall only brief details--- two new boots, several re-boots and (visitors?), multiple accusations and an attempted naming of your narrator.

The occasion was closed with a song by Big Orange Balls. This inspired RollerBalls, Boy George and others to give voice to other ribald classics. Chilli and weinies all around... and then nothing until consciousnes returned at Newley's Ice House. The fact that I arrived was truly miraculous given the directions I recieved, but then, only the truly motivated will perservere to the bitter end.

At this point... things again get very foggy and only my misguided attempts at notes while still in the bar give a hint of what occurred. Digital Input and Will-He-Peter seemed to enjoy each others company on the dance floor. Baby Huey tried to eat a spider(?) but the spider escaped from his mouth and was then mercifully spared a long lingering death (from the affects of his exposure to Huey's insides) by Will-He-Peter's prompt intervention; he stomped the spider flat! Meanwhile, Zoltan kept carousing with a barmaid, proclaiming her excellent?!?!?! with a lovely butt!!! And, ah, let's see here... ah, Gonad is Irish, Drummer Bill is appropiatly named... and... ah, several of the Harriettes have sexy... tattoos...?!?!?!

On-Onward thru the fog!