Hares: Dipstick and BP
Hounds: Puff, PQuad, PPL, Poopy, PBR, Sinnabar, Tina, NBA, ADD, Shit, Princess Peckerhontas, PCP, Stumpy, Anything Goes, Butthole Whisperer, ButtHerFinger, Cuddle Puncher, Hummer, Black Snake Chicken Chugger, Halliday In My Pussy, Which Way Is In?, nnCollin, Snatchajawea, Amanta Feel and Fuck, nnryan, VH1,CIA, Cotton Pickin' Fucker, nnSavannah, nnIsis, nnRachel
One would think that participating in more than 1,000 hashes might merit one some respect. One would then be wrong. But it does merit one helleva hash event and party. Gathering in the covered pavilion area of Pawnee Prairie Park, the pack was ready for a fabulous trail. Man, were they disappointed. The hares took off to the north of the park through the expanse of tall grass. So far, so good. Unfortunately, that's where the trail took a tragic turn for the worse. Tragic in the sense that we were led through man- and woman-eating poison ivy, which was apparently biogenetically engineered to reach out and voraciously attack the body parts of the naive and trusting wankers. It was determined that this was the main reason for the hares choosing this particular route, since the park paths would have protected us from the dreaded ivy. After trail forced us to wade through the creek at several locations, slip and slide in the mud, and curse the diabolical hares, the pack eventually made it to the beer near. After refreshing ourselves with libations, trail took us back to the south through the woods, where we somehow managed to stumble back to the on-in.
Circle went on forever, with the pack feeling they had to be hospitable to the visitors and feign kindness and respect to "He Who Needs To Get A Life". But when all was said and done, everyone was exhausted, tipsy and in desperate need of showers. And all was right with the world. On on.
Trail # 1306 Pub Crawl for 1000th Eve
Hare: Little Red Dipshit
Hounds: Whoa, who knows!
What can one say about a pub crawl? I sure don't know because I think I consumed too many tasty beverages. We started at a bar, then we went to another one, then maybe another one. Many hashers took part, large quantities of beverages were consumed, and plenty of wankers did things that they probably would not have done had they been sober. All this done just to get lubed up before the Big Event. On on!
Trail #1305 - BP's Death March
Hounds: Dip, NBA, Puff, Tina, Butthole Whisperer, CIA, nnAmanda, nnCollin, Anything Goes, PQuad, ButtHerFinger, nnKim
The pack is beginning to believe that BP has it in for us. This trail is just one more piece of evidence that she's trying to kill us off by way of crappy trails. The pack gathered at Fat Ernie's in the Dirty South, a brand-newly-opened beer dive on S. Hydraulic, and the hare led us all-the-fuck over and around the side streets of that gawd-forsaken area. We were mostly successful in following trail until we reached the bike path by the river, where the marks disappeared. This seems to be the Bermuda Triangle of Ta-Town. We would have given up at this point, but we could sense that the beer near was somewhere near, and when beer is involved, this pack does not give up. Besides, nnCollin knew where the BN was, so we followed him (although he neglected to mention that he knew where he was going nor did he know how to use his whistle at this point). The beer was found on a lovely broken-glass-and-dead-fish-strewn sandbar in the middle of the river. Beverages were thankfully consumed, and the pack was on its way to locate trail. We ended up being led through a field of cockleburs that covered our legs, feet and other body parts. I believe we are still discovering hiding places for the little buggers. Thinking we were close to the end, we stumbled, weeping from exhaustion, down Hydraulic for another mile. The hare pulled up to this hasher and offered a ride when the on-in was 50 feet away. Sheesh. Beer and food were consumed, songs were sung, and all was right with the world. Except for the memories of the shitty trail. On on.
Trail # 1304
Hounds: Who the Hell Knows At This Late Date, oh, let's see, I'll give it a shot: Puff, Anything Goes, Tina, Phi Pee Licker, Sgt. Semen Sucker, NBA, Butthole Whisperer, Amanta, nndaughter and friend, Sinnabar, ButtHerFinger, nnKim, PBR, LSD, BP, nnCollin
Dip chose the original setting of Mort's in Old Town to begin trail. He took the pack all-the-hell-over the previously uncharted Old Town region. The hounds marveled at the scenery, the architecture and the originality of the trail. Beer Near was located at Rain, Dip's favorite bar because of cheap well drinks on certain nights. Beverages were consumed and friends were made among the regular bar patrons, especially with the tranny at the next table. Trail then continued on to the south over by the Arena and then eventually (trouser)snaked back to the on-in which turned out to be the Brickyard, an impromptu last-minute decision by the hare. Delighting our neighbors on the patio with our lovely singing voices, and even lovelier songs, we endured circle with the highlight being helping nnKim with breaking in her new running shoes as only hashers know how. Dip's lovely wife, LSD, actually sat through a real circle and was rewarded with a tandem dead-bug, thanks to screw-ups by her husband. Sadly, we may never see LSD at a circle again.... On on!