 COCK AND BALLS VIII "THE
CUNNING LINGUISTS RUN" SATURDAY, MARCH 15,
1997 HARES: “ROLLER BALLS” AND
“SHUTTLECOCK” Excerpt From a hasher's diary: CNB-8
Monday 3/10
No entry today - bad hangover - can't think.
Tuesday 3/11
No entry - too bummed because next Hash isn't until Saturday.
Wednesday 3/12
Today was better than yesterday. I tried eating a ham
sandwich for lunch instead of turkey. It made work somewhat more interesting than
usual. Tried hard not to think about two more non-hashing days. Discovered
that my office plant was a strange brown/black color and tried adding water.
According to my diary, the last time I watered it was February
27th..............1991. Watched the plant for improvement for several hours before
giving up. Luckily, It was 5pm by the time I gave up - time to go home.
Thursday 3/13
Looked at old hashing scars for a while today. I was
surprised that I couldn't place each scar with a specific hash event. Started a
spreadsheet to track scars from now on. Gave up within an hour because it was too
hard to describe scar locations. On the way to check for doughnuts in the lab, I
came up with a really neat idea to track hash scars. I could borrow a scanner and
scan in my entire body. Next I would write a program that would create a 3D model,
with which I could easily track scars. Made a mental note to borrow a scanner and
learn how to program.
Friday 3/14
Tomorrow is the Cock and Balls 8. I am so excited I can't
concentrate at work. I try to keep my mind off it by doing something
productive. Damn! I can't even concentrate on Tetris I'm getting so excited.
Tried staring at clouds out of office window for a while. It just makes it worse -
they are all shaped like hash marks and beer mugs. I even made out a hare shape on
one of the fluffier cumulonimbus formations. Tried mixing chemicals in lab to see in
any would react in any spectacular ways. Only interesting combination turned out to
be leftovers from lunch - I discovered that salt mixed with soda water makes it fizz up
pretty good. While interesting, it was not very entertaining and I grew bored with
it after a few hours. Luckily it was close enough to 5pm that I could sneak out a
bit early. Arrived at the happy hour location at 2:15pm. I was surprised to
discover that no one had arrived yet. Went home and took a short nap and went back
to the happy hour about 9pm. It was great! By the time I had arrived the
hashers had already knocked a section of the roof down, but were allowed to stay, since
the volume of beer consumed up to that point had already exceeded the appraised value of
the property. It was an intense happy hour, and I could feel the excitement in the
air created by the fact that the CNB-8 hash was less than 18 hours away and the fact that
the rest of the roof could collapse at any second - crushing us to bits!
Saturday 3/15
Got up early today to get ready for the hash. Had
plenty of time to throw hash gear in bag and lock door before leaving. I was afraid
I would be a tad late, so I drove 80mph all the way to the start. As I parked my car
I glanced at my watch and noted that I arrived exactly on time - 3:25pm. It pays to
plan ahead! As soon as the run started -bam!-we were in the woods.
Shiggy to the left, shiggy to the left, shiggy in front and behind! And below was the best
of all! Lots of slimy, slippery and sometimes smelly mud. Overjoyed, I paused
for a brief roll in the slimy quicksand that I discovered in a certain special section of
a tributary. I was instantly overwhelmed, becoming a small embryo, protected and
nourished inside the womb. Lucky for me, a compassionate hasher realized what a
state I must have been in and kicked me in the head to bring me to my senses. I
instantly snapped out of my delirium and threw down the water moccasin that I had mistaken
for an umbilical cord. I ran on. Suddenly, the shiggy parted in front of me to
reveal a glorious raging river. A small arrow indicated what I must do.
I dove head first into the ice cold waters of (I think) the Mississippi and swam for a
full 10-15 minutes before reaching the other side. As I neared the far bank I felt
either a large alligator or a small twig brush my leg. Unsure of my fate, I kicked
with enough force to crush an alligator head, or possibly snap a small twig. The
important part was that I escaped with my life. Onward I ran. Through more
gooey, slimy mud - up a slippery embankment - over a log - Through a swampy car
graveyard. Without warning, we suddenly hit pavement! Could it be? - I
thought - Yes! We have reached the beer check! The Saint Arnold's Amber was
already flowing freely by this time and as I took my first swallow, I felt a shudder
throughout my body. It was the best beer that I had ever tasted that day! As
hard as it was to leave the beer check, trail beckoned me onward. Within ten steps
of leaving the beer check I was once again enveloped in woodland bliss. Trail was
easy to find - it appeared that a heard of wild elephants had been on trail before me and
trampled everything in their path. As I ran on, the mud seemed to be alive - trying
to hold me back. Suddenly, I knew what it was like to "hit the
wall". My body - pushed to the limit! Hasher against the environment!
This turned out to be gas, but still, it was a cool feeling. I ran on. Found a
check. Hit the low barbwire fence off the check at full tilt and caught it with one
foot, coming face to face with nature unexpectedly. Returning to my feet and
continuing onward I wondered if it would leave a mark. "Damn" - I thought
- "no blood". Brush with nature #2 - The Neck-high vine that wouldn't give
way. I guess it must have knocked me silly, because Wee Willy laughed quite
hysterically at my predicament. Next was the "prison cry" S shaped trail
through a briarpatch. I tried to made mental notes of the cuts for later
documentation. Like all good things, the trail eventually came to end.
We gathered in a scenic park beside a small gurgling mountain stream. The circle was
full of good accusations and I did my perfunctory lame accusation/down down.
Ugg....That Saint Arnold's is hard to do a down down with. On the fringes of the
circle I challenged Roller Balls to drink from the bottle of Jim Beam that I found on
trail, momentarily forgetting that I was forced to urinate in it because of lack of
facilities about 15 minutes earlier. That secret must always remain within the
confines on this diary. The circle finally broke up so that we could smash open the
pinata and play izzy dizzy. I got to witness one of the scariest/most entertaining
things that I have ever seen - Hooter Bill blindfolded and flailing around with a
Louisville Slugger in a desperate attempt to "kill the wabbit".
Details started to get a little fuzzy around the time we started to play izzy dizzy.
I remember spinning around the bat about 30 times and then trying to return to the
start. Strangely, gravity had shifted with relationship to the ground. I
roughly estimated that it was acting on me at 37 degree angle off of the normal direction
that gravity usually acts in. I quickly discovered that by hitting the ground hard
five times with my body I could correct the gravitational field problem. I saw
others using this method too. Food was served and quickly scarfed by all. Then
it was off to the On On On at Palmers. As usual, the On On On was pretty low
key. Probably only 90% of the hashers moved on to the bar so our number was well
below 100, making it easy to blend into the crowd. I think that some of the hashers
were waltzing on the dance floor, but for the most part we huddled in one corner of the
bar sipping on our beers and and talking quietly. The details are pretty sketchy in
my mind about this part of the evening.
Sunday 3/16
I slowly regained consciousness sometime early in the
morning. I was too tired to open my eyes, so I just reflected upon trail for a while
in that half asleep half awake state that I wish I could live my whole life in. I
finally decided to open my eyes, and to my great surprise, I was in my home - and only a
few feet from my very own bed. I decided that my bed looked more comfortable than
the hardwood floor that I was currently dozing on, so I proceeded to make a move for the
bed. Strangely, my body did not respond. I was paralyzed from the neck
down! I closed my eyes, once more - relieved that I was now released from any
Sunday duties that I may have had - since I was totally immobile. Time
passed.. I have no idea how much. I opened my eyes again and realized my beer
mug was only about 13.75 inches from my head. It was almost 1/4
(0.24345271) full of the fruit of Saint Arnold's labors. I tried to reach
out, forgetting that I was immobile. My heart rate increased - I willed the
beer to my lips. Nothing! I tried to control the panic. I could still
work my mouth, and I managed to suck some dried beer from my sweatshirt collar. It
had a strange taste, but I could feel myself get stronger. My hand twitched!
With all my effort I could muster, I managed to reach out for my mug. I quaffed the
warm, flat breakfast and felt much better. It was many hours before I could walk
again, but I spent the time looking at my cool CNB-8 t-shirt and eating gummy rabbits that
I found in my hash bag. I even found some rice and beans on my sleeve that
really hit the spot.
Monday 3/17
Work sucks. I wish I was still lying on the floor at home
looking at my CNB-8 t-shirt. Nothing happened today at all.
ON-ON "SARAN
CRAP" |