Monthly Archives: January 2016

Run

#1842 – This Run Goes To Eleven!

Hares : Tight Lips
Where: Stix Sports Bar, 5255 Richmond Road SW
Religious Advisor: Masterbeater
Attendance: 33

Sticky Lips is EXCITED!
See photos from the Run!

Walking into the pub before the run, Menage A Trois opened the door for the R.A. a nice gesture to be sure.  Groveling?  Certainly.  Over the top? Absoultely.  Awardable?  You better believe it.  At least one hasher gets the importance of impressing an R.A.!

Tight Lips set quite the trail, and we all ended up at the all-to-familiar Stix Pub, whereupon Running Dry rationed out the very precious and short in supply down-downs.  For which she was downed quickly after the Hare got downed.

No choir tonight, as choirs are for sissies, and I was riding high from all the accolades (ok one but leave it to you to point that out) last week.  Besides, Baby wasn’t there, and it wouldn’t be the same without him.

Sweet Ass left the Calgary Hash months (years?) ago in a huff.  We were too right-minded and way to conservative.  Alberta is now NDP.  Sweet Ass thought she would come back and no one would remember.  Religious Advisers remember all your bad shit.  Downed.

Speaking of sweet asses, Rubbermade’s hit the steering wheel and set off the car alarm.  Was she trying to be a smart ass? Was her ass showing off? Or just a dumb ass?  We don’t know, and I’m not an investigative RA.  Downed.

Sticky Lips and Pull My Woody showed up without a penny to pinch between their ass cheeks.  Approached “Guido” Auntie Frank he offered to help them out of their financial situation… at 39% interest compounded daily.  As they haggled over how much was enough money to cover their high flying hash lifestyle, the numbers grew faster than those readouts that show the US National debt growth in live time.  Downed both their asses to give them both some free beer and spare them a little interest on borrowed funds.

Sneevil was being a tight ass according to King Shit, who paid her bill last week for a salad… only to find out she paid, and King Shit got soaked by the bar.  Downed Sneevil for relief of being wrongly accused.  King Shit already paid the bar again, so I judged penance paid.

Men O Pause’s big ass still fits in the Onesie of Shame.  Called him up to check.  Yep, still fits.  Sent him back after downing.

Hash Mattress Abandoned Pussy should have considered sex in the ass… instead she’s knocked up.  Congratulations A.P., and better you than me.  (That would be really awkward for sure anyway)  Downed with a copious amount of water.

Lost In Space truly looked like a Neo Nazi Oregon Stomin’ Mormon from Montana with his new dew (lack of) skinhead lookin’ ass – Downed.

Not sure who inspired who, but Flat shaved off his stache.  Summer stache, Winter bald shaved lips.  I really am all for bald shaved stuff, but not Flat’s lips – That’s confused ass stuff. Downed.

Buried Pleasure got herself a nice ass watch for 250 runs.  Appreciation and downed.

Some under-achieving ass with apparently little else to do than hash reached 550 runs.  When asked if he wanted to do the half yard, he non-chalantly shrugged and flatly said “sure”.  Are we boring you Doctor Phil?  VERY well executed half yard.  (I think, I probably wasn’t watching the whole time)

Biggest Ass, Funniest Ass, Crazy Ass of the night was awarded to Lyin Sack of Shit for rummaging through the van at the regroup to find the beer.  Great move and greatly appreciated… if only it was a hasher’s van!  Some poor muggle out there had all of his shit fondled by Lyin Sack.  HASH SHIT!

King Shit got thanked for pictures, all the work relocating and reworking the webshite, coming up with songs to bail stuck R.A.’s and general bad-assness is for the hash.  Appreciated and downed.

Rubbermade was thanked (and downed again) for being a great R.A. with a really great ass.  An obvious attempt to build up points lest I get downed to oblivion when she is R.A. again.  Yep, I’m that big of an Ass.

AND that’s the way I saw it.  Your ever faithful (until I find a better hash that will let me in) Religious Adviser of the evening, Master Beater.

On On!

On-On!
<<your hashname here>>  These are King Shit’s words not mine – I write my own.

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Run

#1841 – Best run of the year!

Hares : Snow Job
Where: JJ’s Neighbourhood Pub
Religious Advisor: Rubber Made
Attendance: 36

Running Dry and her friends from Germany

See photos from the Run!

NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL A HAIRJOB!

No one likes a good old fashioned spanking better than me.  That’s just fact.  But the type of spanking that Snowjob and not quite a hare of mystery, Skewbic Hair laid on…  that just wasn’t the kind of spanking I enjoy at all (more on that later).

A big turnout on a not so cold, if you compare it to a really, really cold place, and a not so warm if you compare to a… cold place sort of night.  The hash was finally relieved of the endless litany of announcements in the circle… that is until Doctor Phil had to go and announce the Red Dress Run that will be in SEPTEMBER!  Chrissakes Doctor Phil – I’ll care about September when my eye lids aren’t frozen shut, like maybe… June.

We had some visitors from Germany – Dutch Oven and Dirt Cheap.  Really nice people – because of them we have Running Dry… (They introduced her to Hashing)

Lost In Space issued a edict of sorts by stating “Lead, Follow, or Get out of my way”, and then moving along at his normal plodding snail’s pace

Spittin  Balls started to talk to Mucky Dip, who had no time for his shit, and ran away from him in mid-sentence

So back to the run – we’re following these marks you see, and every so often HairJob lays some red ribbons that send you into a slippery pit (insert inappropriate comment).  Except this one aint fun.  It has 3 ribbons attached to a tree limb, and means a crawl on a snow greased, icy wall.  There was absolutely nothing on the run description that stated crampons and ice axes would be needed.  I protest.

After a point, I find myself standing there, just Maple and me… and we have that “wha’ happened?” expression.  Nary a sound could be heard, save for the whooshing of the traffic on Bow Trail and the screech of some excited magpie, revved up at the idea we could be left for dead and there are a tasty set of eyeballs to pluck on.  A few calls for RU, a couple wrong attempts, and then Maple says, “I know this neighborhood, they went this way”.  2 blocks later, he stops, looks at me and says “Nope – we’re F&^ked”.  Spanked by HairJob. The shame – no regroup beer, cutting our way back to the bar to face the hashers’ coming in who comment flatly “Oh good you are alive”

I would love to tell you stories from the regroup.  Related in a manner you can almost taste the beer… But I can not – therefore it didn’t happen, and there is nothing to tell.

The incredibly enchanting Rubbermade handed out down down beers with the grace of a Munich bar maid.  So much so, I was entranced and had no idea who was in the front of the room, why they were there, and barely remember the songs that Baby and I crooned so soothingly.  I only know we did a damn good job, because Running Dry offered that she wanted to enter me on “The Voice”.

Auntie Frank, being a man of action, made the Religious Adviser’s table a boob check.  Unfortunately for all of us, this only drew out Hasher boobs – no Harriettes boobs were viewed.  Perhaps establish the boob check mark a little later when our Harrierettes are a bit drunker?

Beer flowed like water, and the room was really rocking away – the Calgary hash was there, and everyone came to play.  Daisy Duke showed his flexibility in his interactive drill of The Mighty Duke of Daisy, Twisted Sister and Hardley threw the bottom of their half yards for 2100 runs (combined) high in the air, Skewbic Hare waved his own half yard around almost as impressively, though he fought for control near the climax, with the half yard spewing forth all over his chin and chest.  700 runs, you’d think the guy could be better at swallowing.   Shakesbeer received an awful nice piece of Hasherdashery for 150 runs, Blue Balls for another big pile of runs, both were downed by Rubbermade.  The awards were presented by awardanator Daisy Dukes right on time… around 3 months late – he was downed and made an example of – no effort (no matter how weak) will go unrewarded in this hash!

Sneevil and Twisted Sister were called up… for being… great?  Apparently Rubbermade owes one or both money – what a blatant grovel.

The HairJob duo was downed for their trail and sang a tribute song that was matched to what the trail did to a select 2 of us.

Pick Meat wandered up for a down down for wandering off from the circle and into the bar at the very start of the run to drink with the visitors.

Can You Hear Me Now is now sporting a very creepy rendition of a giant Papa Smurf.. . one of those people who imitates those he admires.  CYHMN admires the one-girl, 250 guys reverse mormon polygamist thing more than Papa Smurf methinks.

Sneevil, and King shit were all back in black, but other than that, I have no clue.

Running Dry came up with the visiting hashers from Germany.

Tightey Whitey was given back the hash shit he left behind, now if he’d give Rubbermade her phone back.  Fair’s fair after all.

Frigid Beaver took a booty call call on her phone while on trail from her sugar daddy.  (I dearly hope it was her sugar daddy, and not her REAL daddy… Gross!)

King Shit and Gomer Pyles droned incessantly about bunny certificates during the run.  No one knows what a bunny certificate is, no one wants to know… except apparently ShitPyles

Sir Cums Alot was asked by Skewbic Hair to read his GPS.  GPS is of course code for Great Penis of Skewbic – poor guy had no idea

Sweaty Wanus was wandering around, as was Krusty

There were others that came and went, and were forgotten by the choir, and are lost forever in the memory of the cell phone that Rubbermade donated to the bar.

The most moving moment of the night was the muggle bar tendress who panicked when Rubbermade called “On the Piss” and desperately pleaded for “The Sexual Life of a Camel”.  She got her wish, the hash improving yet another’s life.  I will admit, and I’m not  embarrassed to say it… I shed a tear.

On On

Master Beater

On-On!
<<your hashname here>>

(I left this because King Shit actually has this on the page pre-staged for a scribe in case you can’t think of anything more to say, and so you can remember you should use your hash name and not your muggle name.  Thank you King Shit!)