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The Truth |
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Official Organ of the Greater Gotham Full Moon
Hash House Harriers
G2FMH3 Hash #187 – Friday, December 2nd, 2006
Start: 96th & Lex.
Hares: Stewa
On-in: Bar East (90th & 1st)
Punk Ass Bitch (Scribe): Dave "Too" Long
First frigid Friday of the winter, fitting for what my Farmer's Almanac tells me is the "Cold Moon" hash. Hashers huddled by the xmas trees at 96th, mostly well clothed except of course for Bottom and Fire In The Piehole who are card carrying members of the International Brotherhood Of The Shorts and therefore banned from wearing long running pants or tights of any kind. Note however, this did not prevent Bottom from wearing knee-length white socks of the kind my sister used to wear to primary school.
Shortly after setting off on trail, it was clear that Stewa was preempting the official flashlight hash with one of his own. Perhaps it was darkness that was to blame for our collective miserable failure to find any of the checks, but most likely just plain stupidity. After one particular bout of futility in the park, Bottom and his white socks saved the day after appearing like a ghost out of the bushes having apparently circumnavigated the park while looking for trail. It remains a mystery how he found it, but you don’t worry about such details after checking for fifteen minutes.
And so it went…back on trail, bastard check, finally someone finds it after ten minutes…repeat. Not a hash for the faint-hearted checkers (you know who you are). Matters came to a head while checking at the reservoir, where after more head-up-ass checking (alas not the Head Up Ass), cries of on-on were heard heading north. Something didn't smell right though, or maybe that was just the bridal path. Just then, a few hashers realized what was up – the "on" trail found by Robert (I think) was actually from check #1. Not wanting to run two circuits of the trail, we promptly gave that one the elbow and eventually found trail exiting at Engineer's Gate, nicely intertwined with the leftovers from that week's NAWW.
Memories of trail offenses and resulting down-downs are a little hazy. There was a virgin with an Irish name, I think it was Graine (pronounced Grawn-ya for all you non-Irish), and a couple of visitors from DC, Slurpee and her partner who's name I forget. There was even a naming, Robert, who earned himself the handle "Congenitals Defect" (for details, see Cockstar, I kind of lost the plot on that one). Or just see Robert, who will no doubt be only too happy to show interested parties his congenitals, complete with defect. All that remained was the "invasion of the pizza snatchers" courtesy of the "it's too cold to hash so I'll just go to the on-in" crowd.
Good hash, good beer, good pizza, good god is that the time? Gotta go.
On out.