Here is a never before published edition of Hash Trash that was discovered deep in the bowels of Slut Manor during Grind Sluts recent move. He also wrote this shit.
Bump Slut and I arrived early to the run location. The run was to be held at the east side Galleria, or San Jacinto Mall. I soon found out that arriving early has one drawback: Generic Butt Wipe asks you to be the scribe for the day; actually this makes for more interesting trash, but his reason for appointing someone was so he could leave the scene of the crime! I think a down-down is in order. No that would be to nice. How about forcing him to spend an evening at the Montrose Mining Company.
The run finally got started after I berated a new boot for throwing his beer cup into my open hatchback (I told him that my car wasn't a garbage can. He replied that it sure looked like one. Well, maybe it does). Bump and I had spotted some flour while touring the mall parking lot earlier and were soon in the lead on the true trail, followed closely by Geek. Bump tried to catch an enormous crawfish that he spotted as they both crawled around in a ditch.
We left Geek (and what remnants of the pack we could see) far behind at the next check, as he and a couple of rookie hounds got burned on a long false. Our FRB status was lost quickly at the next check, where I ran into a field and Bump got used by Licks His Own to run a false trail. By this time, I realized how hot it really was and went into brain lapse/pack behavior until the water check.
Onward we surged into the chest high grass. To my dismay, however, the grass gave way to that curse upon hashing - pavement. We came out onto what looked like an airport runway with cars driving on it. I got confused by the fact that a water check had been set off in the bushes for the walkers which I thought was for the runners. Convincing myself that the trail could not possibly go down the runway, I circled the brushy area surrounding the water check. By this time, all of the runners except for myself and two or three others had disappeared down the long paved monstrosity. Sure enough, the end was near.
The real action of the day occurred at the On On with the alleged abuse of the new boots. What basically happened is that they had beer thrown on them as they finished their down downs. Big deal, right? There is probably not one hasher who can say that they have never had beer thrown on them (although it was probably after making lewd remarks to a potential lust object). Well, it just so happened that most of the liquid projectile landed upon the hairdo'd heads of two healthy chested new boots. Also, it was myself and Bump Slut who were accused of this heinous crime (okay, we did it). Bump tried to talk me out of throwing the beer, but I explained to him that this was only part of the natural hash screening process. Actually, he tried to convince me that we could have an entertaining future evening with these two new boots, but I informed him that they had already spurned my attempts at friendship (maybe it was the seat and poison ivy that turned them off). Certain members of the hashing community accused jealous harriettes of engineering this attack, but actually I had the idea long before any hash wenches ever suggested. It's just my personal belief that those who do not sweat at a hash run and look instead like they've just returned from the hairstylist need to be "dirtied up" a little. Those two were lucky that I didn't pick meat sauce instead of beer.
Well the two "abused" new boots demanded to be brought to their cars, claiming that they had "followed the rules" and drank all of their beer thinking that they did not deserve to have beer thrown on them. Apparently the religious advisor did not properly explain to them that there are no rules at a hash, only guidelines.
One glimmer of hope: they did return to the on on, but did not mingle with the crowd. They sat in their car and drank beer from a distance, cautiously watching the always decadent hashers perform their weekly ritual of sweat and beer.
One last comment: Although I am personally of the school that believes that beer and water (in that order) are the most important things to have at the on on, I have to compliment the hares on a job well done on the food. More meatball sandwiches and salad than we could finish, and good too. I ate two of them and would have eaten more if there had been room in my stomach. Also, it was only the second time at a hash where there was more beer than we could finish But hey, it wasn't really a "regular" run, was it?
On On
Grind Slut