Houston Hash House Harriers-Trash Run #1191

Last time we left our heroes, a miracle had been performed-one of Biblical Proportions. The reincarnation of the Brides of Frankenstn truly unleashed a dangerous three-headed monster. Our trail layers this week, who were laying an ostensibly live trail (which had two-day-old caked on flour that was mello yellowed with age or piss) were off with petite little half pound bags of flour that somehow miraculously transformed into a six plus mile trail. It went a little like this:

Left out of the parking lot, left on the street, right in the open field, left on the street, right on the school yard, left on the street, neither direction at the bayou, straight on the street, left at the light, right into the school yard, right into the woods (which was omitted by half the hounds-who short-cutted half the trail), across the street, around the lake, BEER CHECK, left down the street, into the bayou, right into the street, left on the street, WATER CHECK, left on the street, right on the street (where the short-cutters found trail), right on the street, left on the street, past the derelicts with the beers in bags and bikes, under the fence, left in the field, and ON IN.

Notice the preponderence of the word street in the preceding text. Well it was quite assphalt happy :) but so were we-happy :). Some odd feats were performed on and after trail. For instance, Mighty Mouse flew, Seaman ate his spinach and was strong to the finish, Out of Tuna's dog pissed on Dick the Boy Wonder's shoes, Heartache was sweet and gentle, Gonad actually called out
when he was on trail, Drummer Bill smelled nice, and the circle was short . . . Well, lets not push it here. Literary license does not include flat out
lying.

At the circle, our Hares were pandered to by Puppy Prick, who thought he would get to stay after school to sharpen his pencil. Only, his ripe three apples were immediately received and transformed into crisp third nipples by our trio of bra-stuffing Hariettes. Also of note was the woefully inadequate attempt at a defense by Mo Bettah Ho, who actually thought she could explain herself to the Hash. Luckily Gas Light was wise enough to stuff a sock in her mouth to keep them from doing more down downs. It was a good attempt, but they ended up seeing the bottom of the cup more times than they planned. But isn't that what it's all about? The beer, and of course, the truly shitty trail.

ON ON

ANAL 101