Brooklyn H3 #549
January 17th 2011
Start: Parkside Ave B/Q station (or the southeast corner of Prospect Park, if you believed the website)
On-In: The Rock Shop, 4th Avenue between Carroll & President St.
Hares: A Lil’ Dirty & I Like Head
Scribe: Speedo Gonzalez
JESUS FUCK IT GOT COLD OUT THERE.
It was so cold, people were dressing up as ninjas in an attempt to hide themselves from the cold. They were strapping lights to their foreheads, just so they wouldn’t get lost in the bitterness of winter. The hares were feeding us green tea spiked with rubbing alcohol, just so we’d forget how cold it was.
And yet, once we got on our way, it didn’t seem all that bad, really. Sure, there was some ice, but no one spilled too badly. And sure, there was a point where we were r*nning through the unlit darkness of Prospect Park, but the snow reflected enough moonlight so that no one important was snatched away by the wolves or the rapists. So, bonus! And yeah, there was that one guy on the street who couldn’t understand why we were r*nning for beer when we could be r*nning for weed, but honestly, a weed Hash? Can you imagine? We’d all still be at the bar, half-asleep and drooling on ourselves – more than usual! – and even more engrossed in whatever the hell winter sports event it was that was on the TV.
So, after dodging the ice and the rapey wolves and the civilians with bad ideas, we made it to the Rock Shop, home of cheap beer and hot wings and fucking delicious fries. Extra beer was awarded to:
– The hares, A Lil’ Dirty & I Like Head (Head? Who said head? I’ll have some of that! etc)!
– One visitor, Return to Gender, from Madison!
– Three virgins, Lizzie, Jacob and Mary Bentley!
– Pussy In Boots & Hoboken Dave, for taking a moment to compare the steam rising off their cueball-esque heads!
– Cheeky Bastard, who, with a fully-cleared sidewalk to work with, still managed to carom off a garbage can while making a turn!
– Canine Fixation, for engaging in shenangians of a cross-country variety!
– Barnacle, for peeing in the goddamn pool!
– Whoremaster, Eager 4 Beaver & Smashmouth, for breaking the rule of omerta and appearing in the New York Times!
– Dental Damned, who exposed himself to an elderly lady while on trail, causing this lady to thus exclaim: “No, you can’t shovel my walk, young man!” Or at least, that’s how the story’s appearing in print, so it might as well be true.
Hash Cash must have run out eventually, according to the second law of thermodynamics. It was still going strong by the time I left, however, although we had managed to drink the bar’s entire supply of Sierra Nevada. And so it goes.
Happy Martin Luther King Jr. day, everybody! On-on!