#1774 – The Trail’s Under Where?

Hare : Tighty Whitey
WhereKing’s Head Pub, 9116 Macleod Trail South
Big Rock: Accept no substitutes
Attendance: 24


See photos from the Run!

“Head, Who Said Head”?! – Kings Head Pub

November 24, 2014

Oh what a rough night for our choir!  While Shakesbeer’s New Orleans Saints were falling apart late on Monday night football as a backdrop, the Hash choir melted down early until they hit the one play Daisy Duke could execute.  All too frequently we have seen choral failures, but on this night, the choir was similar to a solid play-off caliber dream team showing up and having an awful night.  The talented Rubbermade had lost her rhythm, Melody (whoever the hell she is), and tone.   The Rockies crooner was flabbergasted, and poor (insert name here) was barely accounted for.  Daisy Duke clutched onto his one go-to song, a great one to be sure, “She’s the meanest” and ran his John Cornish-esque song into the Hash line over and over again.  Although not a music critic alive could have handled five minutes of the stumbling songsters, the Hash being the Hash, thrived on tunes sung so badly only a Hash could endear themselves.

While Daisy Duke was plunging his song into the line – Skewbic Hair an hour earlier attempted to break a tree’s spirit and will by plunging right into it.  On balance, I’d call it a stalemate.  While the tree didn’t move, Skewbic displayed his grit and toughness by assaulting the offending tree with a full frontal assault, bravely not using his hands to brace himself.  No comment from Skewbic on what the tree did to bring on his wrath, and no comment from the tree.  Would seem the two are keeping the cause and effect of the incident a private matter.

Dementia was dealing her Religion to the hash – unfortunately, it’s not only a very black religion, many suspect she has created her own practice.

A rare treat, as Dementia yielded the floor to Cocktail – who took the stage in explaining Menage a Trois’s lost virginity resulting in Lord Beaverbrook school being named – a story telling that had many more than Not Too Deep squealing for more.

Dark religion exercised by Dementia reversed the well placed blame upon Dreamin Semen competitively hashing, and accused poor, poor Master Beater once again of an undeserved Hash Shit offense of Competitive Hasher Jealousy.  Did anyone spring to his defense?  No.  Dementia’s grip on the hash is ironclad.

Pink Meat went back on trail to find King Shit’s lost camera, and ended up with the Head Shit for her effort.  There was probably a reason, but Dementia being Dementia, seems to have forgotten!….

Lay-em in snow was so happy to get rid of his hash shit, he may have dribbled, Luna style.

When all hope of justice seemed lost, King Shit was given the pitcher of holy water to down for his offense of carelessly leaving incriminating pictoral evidence of the hash on trail.  Dementia required redemption, and she received it!

Shitty Trail (I think that’s what it was… could have been Squirrel’s Tail, or Itty, Bitty Male, hard to tell…) was “sung” to the nonplussed Tighty Whitey for a live hare trail that wasn’t, but was a well-marked, measured, geometrically accurate, and timed to end exactly on time at the regroup, with the walkers and running hashers arriving at the Regroup precisely at the same time. Even the oft wandering Lofty Prancer was able to FRB this trail from start to end, exclaiming happily to the Hash “I’ve got this”!  Good for you Lofty, good for you.

Tightey’s wastefulness of tossing entire pieces of chalk on the ground, denying needy children in Ethiopia of their own chalk was harshly dealt with down downs by RA Dementia.

Charlene was nursemade to Erectionally Challenged’s horizontally challenged blunder.  Dementia went above and beyond her call of duty, and dutifully delivered the down-down, making a house call to VC (and to the mystery of the Hash, to an apparently healthy Charlene?)

Running Dry gave the entire hash quite a start when she exclaimed her hair was coming apart, only to realize her hair was actually there… prescription drugs, hallucinogens?  No one really knows…


Heard from the gallery –

Not Too Deep – “oh!  I really miss (unnamed Hasher)!…  I think he had a drinking problem and that’s why he is not at the Hash anymore”

Cocktail – “No… he doesn’t have a drinking problem… he’s not here – WE have the drinking problem!”


Also heard, the best priced ticket in town $50 for debauchery and Holiday feasting and fun – the Hash Christmas Party.  Time is running out for pre-sale tickets.  Support the Hash, support your habits.


Master Beater