Before the Hash

Bash started near the intersection of Cypress Station and I-45 North at 2:30, under crystal blue skies with an expected high temp of 67. The hares: Hog Straddler and Zig Bag. The theme: "Life is too short to drink shitty beer". Hog Straddler gathered the hash and gave instructions (they seemed simple enough but he used notes). On the trail would be hidden 3 Mardi Gras doubloons, the Hashers fortunate enough to find said doubloons would receive a special prize. I could hardly wait. My body quaked with anticipation. On On thataway...

During the Hash

We headed out of the parking lot and quickly found flour on a trail that followed a twisting creek with genuine sand beaches. A back-check was soon found just past a sewage treatment facility that no doubt emptied into the aforementioned creek. The cry of On On on the other side sent the Hash scrambling down the cliffs and into the creek. We were immediately faced with another cliff of equal steepness on the other side. Scud found a mail box at the top. I heard him yell "air mail" as he let the box fly. I averted my eyes from the melee that no doubt erupted on the canyon floor as the bulk of the Hash clawed their way up. On in to the woods for the first blood letting of the day. Briars and sharpened tree stumps were just a couple of the features that made this a great hash. The potential for death or disfigurement always adds to the excitement. We crossed a bog then emerged from the woods and crossed a ditch to the promised beer/turtle check. The hares pointed us to trail back across the ditch and the pack was off. The next leg of the trail was obviously laid with Mighty Mouse in mind, as the rest of the Hash spent the next 30 minutes bent over. Of course there were lots of prison shower room jokes. We finally got out of the woods and came upon a contingent of SCB's led by Drummer Bill who swore he hadn't seen flour since the first back-check. We blew through a false and stumbled upon the end. On Home

After the Hash

In keeping with their theme, the hares supplied two kegs of Shiner Bock. The first one was drained in about fifteen minutes while all the Hashers stood around comparing wounds. Poodle Prick brought two new boots (although he himself didn't attend). He had obviously failed to educate them in the ways of Hashdom for as down down was chanted one of them poured half of her beer on the ground, mistake. Whiner is accused of missing work due to a severe PC Hash hangover/vomitfest. Visitors Dick the Boy Wonder and Aka Joe. Muscle Twat bragged to the wrong person about being an FRB. Somebody drank out of some filthy new boots. Roller Balls was the only hasher to find a doubloon. Oh Joy, a commemorative Bockus Hash Bash mug full of beer. Group Sex, Nookie Master, and Blade Runner were declared DFL's (Geek even beat them in)... Blade Runner gets another down down for molesting woodpeckers. Grind Slut and Bone Sucker are justly accused of auto hashing. At the Pooper Bowl Heartache swore that he would never attend another Sunday Hash, well, he attended this one and unfortunately he trashed his ankle. He also got a down down. The wins the "Most Blood Flow from a Superficial Flesh Wound" award. The hash made short work of the number two keg...

After the After the Hash

The On On On was at The Gunny Shack. The mix of hashers, 75 cent beer, and microwave tamales made for an interesting time. Noteworthy events, Buck a Suck and Treasure Chest show their tits. Eraser Head (or was it Beer Can Bob, I always get those two confused) fondles a manican.