NYCH3 #1169

July 26, 2006
Annual HALT r*n (Hashers Against Long Trails)
Start: Lafayette & Houston St.
Hares: Steve, Junior and Jimmy Akhbari as “spiritual adviser”
On-In: Cody’s (Hudson and Dominic)
Punk-Ass B*tch: Jenn  

It's about friggin' time. After recently hiking 5 or so miles through poison ivy it was nice to "r*n" a trail that was so short you could have brought your prelube beer with you to the on-in without fear of summons.

All signs pointed toward an easy beer path as a mark was easily visible outside the pre-lube, which was two blocks from the start.

The pack barely had a chance to separate.

Did you want a chicken/eagle split because you're too good to not run at least 4 miles? Well you had two. One split took the chicken left around the fountain in Washington Square Park and took the eagle right. The second was right after the "BN" mark and told the eagle to "run around the block 3x while we drink your beer and talk to your women".

When Alice arrives not only within 25 minutes but also before Devo (who later was amongst those who drank for their need to extend trail) you know it's a short trail. Alice was overheard saying "Is this what an on-on looks like in daylight?".

Not recognizing the lifetime-banned hares out of women's clothing allowed them to redeem themselves to just barely be allowed beer for their down-down. Mean Jean said they had previously sunk so low she only allowed them water the last time they hared.

We had a couple virgins and some very nice visitors, two from Eugene, Oregon. I think three people had to drink out of new or sort of new shoes including Dr. Bruce who brought his beer-drinking dog along again.

And the winners of the Beer Abuse award for the evening were Peter and C*ckstar. The latter was straddling the laps of P*ssy Repellent and Fast American Dave due to the shortage of chairs (that’s believable, right?). Peter, in describing the situation, used a phrase that was deemed equivalent to "wide load" and got a glass of beer in his face. To which he responded in kind. Mean Jean was caught in the crossfire. Peter tried to explain that he was speaking to the size of the lap-owners', eh hem, portfolios.