Friday August 7th 2009– GGFM #226
Hares: Anna and Red-Headed Steve
Bag Hags:
Start:
On-In: Peter Dillon’s at 40thand Park
Scribe: Red-Headed Steve and Anna
The sun was shining on the street,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The hashers wet and tight–
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done–
"It’s very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"
The air was wet as wet could be,
The pavement dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No pigeons were flying overhead–
There were no pigeons to fly.
The Boozer and the Redhead
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of land:
"If this were only path marked,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
"If seven FRB’s with seven chalks
Checked it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Boozer said,
"That they could mark the trail?"
"I doubt it," said the Redhead,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Virgins, come and r*nwithus!"
The Boozer did beseech.
"Some pleasant chalk, a pleasant talk,
Along the slimy breach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Hasher looked at her,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Hasher winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head–
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the park instead.
But four young Hashers hurriedup,
All eagle for the treat:
Their shirts were soaked, their faces flush,
Their shoes were clean and neat–
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn’t any feet.
Four other Hashers followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more–
All hopping north along the eagle trail,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Boozer and the Redhead
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested at the bar
Conveniently low:
And all the little Hashers stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come,"the Boozer said,
"To drink to many things:
Of shoes–and trips–and getting lost–
Of virgins–and flings–
And why the beer is boiling hot–
And whether rats have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Hasherscried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Redhead.
They thanked him much for that.
"A pint of beer," the Boozersaid,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Shots of wild turkey besides
Are very good indeed–
Now if you’re ready, Hashers dear,
We can begin to pour."
"But not on us!" the Hasherscried,
Turning a little blue.
"After such a shitty trail, that would be
A dismal thing to do!"
"The night is fine," the Boozer said.
"Do you admire the view?
"It was so kind of you tocome!
And you are very hot!"
The Redhead said nothing but
"Pour us another shot:
I wish you were not quite so drunk–
Is that all that you’ve got?"
"It seems a shame," theBoozer said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we’ve brought them out so far,
And made them trot so long!"
The Redhead said nothing but
"Let us sing another song!"
"I drink to you," the Boozersaid:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears she sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding her beer and shot of booze
Before her streaming eyes.
"O Hasher," said the Redhead,
"You’ve had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?’
But answer came there none–
And this was scarcely odd, because
They’d out drank every one.