The Cock & Balls weekend started on Friday night with a free keg at the Boatyard that just happened to coincide with a full moon hash hared by Meat Pie, No Hands and Stranger, so we'll start with that. The hash started at that little park on Buffalo Bayou across from my favorite downtown landmark, Allen Parkway Village. The live hares were pretty serious about the 7pm start time in that they left at 6:45. I arrived just in time to hear Stranger announce that we wouldn't need hash bags, a dead giveaway of an A to A run -- so much for losing Geek. The trail headed away from downtown for a little while, then crossed the bayou and headed back in. The trail crossed the Bayou again (on a bridge, unfortunately) near the Wortham. We did a lot of meandering through the downtown streets but were all cursed by our knowledge of the ultimate destination, never wanting to venture to far in the opposite direction. Towards the end we found a check at the Allen Center and not much trail. I headed off into Allen Parkway Village while most of the pack headed back to the start. No trail there, but I did smoke some crack.

The hares provided a keg of shiner bock at the on home. Down downs were proctored by none other than Drummer Bill, who was awarded a headband by a visiting hasher from Hawaii. Per Hawaiian tradition, Drummer would be his "bitch" for the rest of the evening. That French guy got named Johnny Crisco, not because it rhymes with his name, but because it is apparently his lubrication of choice during vigorous masturbation.

We soon headed to the Boatyard for the official start of the much anticipated Cock & Balls IV. The hares had wanked on the FM Hash, and had spent that time getting blitzed on the free keg they were providing. Shuttlecock was kicked off a boat by some crusty old sailor.

The big run of the weekend took place on Saturday in the vicinity of Highway 90 and the East Loop. In mid-week the trail had been upgraded from 75% shiggy to 80% shiggy. According to Roller Balls, the hares had gone to great lengths not to disturb any of the spider webs that were strung across the trail -- "The spiders are non-poisonous, but they will get on your face and suck your eyeball juice out." With that word of encouragement the hounds were released.

Highlights from the first half of the trail: Grind Slut takes a wrong turn and is never seen again, Goes Both Way's dog, Nipper, overheats. We soon came upon the promised beer check. In an amazing show of poofterness, the hares offered the wankers in the pack the option of shortcutting the last part of the trail, which they described as 1.25 miles of intense shig. After running about 1/2 mile on pavement from the beer check, I began to wonder when this intense shiggy was going to make itself none. Soon enough we cut off the road and headed for a creek in a deep ravine. A check was spotted on the far bank and F.R.B., Tuna Helper scrambled across and up the far bank. When the call of "Are You?" is met by silence it means one of two things: Either they are on but aren't saying so in attempt to extend their lead, or they are sitting on a false, and want everyone else to get as muddy as they did before they yell false. It turned out to be the latter, but everyone got muddy anyway when trail was spotted heading up stream. After a short slog through the creek, trail headed straight up a steep bank that was covered with poison ivy. A quick twist through some briar and spider infested woods and we came to a road. The On Home was just down the street at the edge of a park.

The hares supplied 4 kegs of beer at the On Home. We did the usual post hash activities while waiting for our RA to find the end. After 3 hours on trail, Grind finally showed up and down downs began. The long span of time between the end of the run and down downs (and the beer consumed therein) have greatly limited my memory of anything that happened after around 5pm. I remember down downs happening, eating Subway sandwiches, and then for some strange reason people were mistaking me for Geek and standing on my stomach. Quote of the night by Hooter Bill: "Roller Balls, I'd really like to smell your armpits." At some point a man showed up with a trick horse. I stumbled in about the time he had the horse laying on its side playing dead. A very strange scene indeed. In the tradition of paybacks I along with several unnamed co-conspirators relieved myself on the side of a well known hashers car.

Sunday noon, brought the traditional Cock & Balls hangover hash starting at the Appletree on Dunlavy and W. Alabama deep in the throat of Montrose. As a result of the previous several days of debauch, I had decided not to attend. At around 12:30 I heard a banging on my door (front not back) that was none other than Shuttlecock who had just laid a check in front of my house. He came inside and stole my beer, which he brought outside for the pack that was just showing up. I hear things got pretty wild later that afternoon. The clientele at Gentry (gay bar) apparently knew Geek and referred to him by his pet name, Meaty. Other stops were made at Griff's, Rosie's, W. Alabama Ice House and a few others. A stop was made at Buck-a-Sucks house where she supplied homemade moonshine. According to hare, Roller Balls, there was "something weird in the air, the moon wasn't quite right, everything got dark all of the sudden". The hash eventually wound up at the Boatyard with Roller Balls reduced to a babbling freak in the fetal position and more than a couple of brawls.