The day began as all good hashes do, the beer was flowing early. Our Hares, the outgoing mismanagement, God have pity on their weary souls, requested that we arrive early so that we could vote for our favorite candidates. Fortunately, the ballots weren’t on time, and we had to console ourselves with plenty of beer. Much campaigning occurred, and in exchange for votes, numerous sexual favors were offered to all who were interested. In fact, Nate even voted three times.

Finally, the ballots arrived, and were passed out. Letch had to be torn away from the baseball field, where a group of 12 year old girls were struggling to learn the art of picking up balls. Half Moon even offered them his, but they politely declined. Once all of the ballots were in, Dickhead herded us off in the general direction of trail.

Trial was pretty ordinary, except for the check at Washington and Wescott, which turned into a mutherfucker for a lot of us. We milled, and wandered and grumbled and bitched. Finally someone found trail and we were off again. We eventually wound our way to the vicinity of the park on Memorial and Waugh. Blueballs was FRB, and was working on his third beer by the time everyone started streaming in.

When we arrive, the hares had the standard hash fare, with the addition of popcicles. Saran Crap and The Manhandler tried to make a CO₂ bomb out of the dry ice in the cooler, but unfortunately, it never exploded. It would have been interesting to see all of the kids playing basketball all go for their guns at once.

 Dickhead donned his royal purple, and the circle began. It was as if electricity was in the air, everyone was on pins & needles wondering what the outcome would be. Finally the moment we all had waited for, the new mismanagement: (and they are) 

Joint Masters: Full Service and Saran Crap

Religious Advisor: Slumbag

Hash Cash: Finger Fuck and Such a Puss

On Secs: Bald Eagle and The Manhandler

And thus began another inglorious reign of tyrants. 

Slumbag’s first circle went well, and we even had a naming. The hasher formerly known as Denise was baptized in the spirits as "Zit Sucker." Since she is a dermatologist and she was observed slurping down 69 popcicles, it seemed appropriate at the time. Slumbag is unhappy with the name though, so the tyrannical nature of those bastard mismanagement types may appear sooner than we expected.

The circle began degenerating when the Rockets game started heating up. The Pits had brought his 12" unit to the hash, and we plugged it into a cigarette lighter and were all able to watch the game. Reception improved greatly when we made him stand on one leg, but finally his unit got charred down to vienna sausage size and we had to watch it on a watchman someone brought.

The dying act of the old mismanagement was to buy pizzas for the hash. What a great gesture. See, they weren’t so bad after all, were they?

 Basically everyone ate and drank themselves silly, and had a generally good time, except Nate. (I think his candidate lost and refused to pay up.)

Upcoming events:

 June 9 (or so) - We need hares!

June 13-15 Austin’s 666 - Call (512) 707-3818

June 16 (or so) - We need hares!

June 22 Boy George and Bildo Dildo are your hares

June 28-29 Space City Campout Call (713) 968-9743

June 30 - We need hares - Please note that this is the day Hong Kong becomes independent