BH3 #601

BH3 #601

Hare: Blackout

Start: 4th Avenue and Union Street

On-In: Mission Dolores

I lost my opportunity to make a State of the Brooklyn Hash address last week, as the 600th Brooklyn Hash/Polar Bear R*n write up was penned by Doggie Erectus. I would like to take this #601-related moment of your time to look back at where we have been, where we are going, where's the beef, and, of course, where's my beer:

My fellow hashers, we gather again, a kennel of factions – of DFLs and FRBs; harriers and harriettes – united by our common cause and purpose. We can proudly proclaim that “THIS…IS…BROOKLYN!”, for we have come through the trials of rainy trails; poor on-in deals; Cheeky's super long, super sketchy trails; chalk marks, be they small, invisible, or nonexistent; on-ins far from a handy return home, and persevered up to 600 r*ns, and now beyond. Critics might say that we are growing the deficit, that hash cash cuts should be in the pipeline, that “big committee” is gaining undue influence in our everyday lives. To these critics, I reply: deficit? Have you seen our kitty lately? As for hash cash cuts, do you not reap the same benefits from the frothy, refreshing teat bought and paid for by that same cash? Big committee” is only filling the void you have so willingly presented! Now, on to our common future, and the promises it holds for us all. There will be trails, marked in chalk or flour, pure as the driven snow.* There will be beer, better beer, for what is our motto, but Brooklyn: the better beer hash!** Without further delay, I will tell of our latest resounding success!”

*Note: 'driven snow' here means driven over snow. So yeah, not that pure.

**Offer not valid on hashes hared by those who cannot negotiate proper beer deals. Offer may be suspended at any time.

It was raining, and then it wasn't, and then it kind of was, and then it wasn't, and then it was misting, and then what do you mean these shoes aren't waterproof? Water-resistant, then? Water-PHILIC! Welcome to blister city! Well, at least we can get started now. What's that? You don't have chalk? Drywall, then. Where? Who? WHOREMASTER? Crossing the street, you say. But, but, it's 7:20. Son of a bitch, this isn't the way this is supposed to go!

Oh good, Cheeky and Barnacle are up near the front. We can be sure they will guide us to the promised land of beer. First check? No pack mark? What are they doing out there? Mm, let's poke around a little too. Ooh, marks! Let's go this way! No? No more? Hm. Why would Cheeky run all that extra, just to double check himself? Oh, and we are on that way! What a sucker! Down-downable, for sure!”

Run-run-run…“Hey, Dogface, that cyclist! Never mind the fact that he's nearly riding you down in the dark of night, we heard he actually un-set our hotline! Can you believe the balls on him? Well, at least we can enjoy this pleasant downhill running time. On-on! On-on! (right turn, right turn…) Oh, shit, now we're going back up that same hill, like, two blocks over. Curse you, Blackout! (right turn, right turn…) Yay, downhills again! Oh boy, Mission Dolores! On-in!”

And there were these down-downs:

Hare: Blackout. I've heard if it's a rainy trail, it is not all the hare's fault. But what about a misty trail?

No visitors, no virgins

Barnacle: Moving to Philly. Surely the ribbing for being Canadian will be just as constant there

Dogface: Altercation with a cyclist. Hands off our hotline, buddy

Blackout: Hills! That's 'Hash House Harriers', not 'Hill House Harriers'

Wet Willy: leaving us as well. Next time on the other side of the pond, perhaps?

Cheeky Bastard: gave Barnacle “a soaker”. In Philly, that's a 'New York Soaker'. Is as dirty as it sounds.

Cheeky Bastard: missing the mark at the 1st check

Whoremaster: delaying our start with his benevolent drywall antics