Hares : Hot Cheeks, Running Dry, Frigid Beaver
Where: Lighthouse Pub
Big Rock: It’s 4/20! Chill with a cool one, dude
Religious Advisor: Rasta Beater
The hash gathered at one of the hash favorite venues, The Lighthouse – REAL discounts on beer, friendly service, and a place to call our own – thank you Lighthouse for all you do!
The trail set by a pack of our favourite harrierettes, Frigid Beaver, Running Dry, and Hot Cheeks, and a very excellent night for hashing.
On top of all this – it was 420, and Dementia asked another cousin of Master Beater (Rasta Beater) to fill in. It takes one to know one, and a stoner can see a stoner right off…
Romeo was downed for rolling up to the hash in his stoner van , disappearing in the back for a while before emerging for circle up… hmmm.
Spreadworthy must have already been wasted to toss half of her perfectly good beer down the sewer. She received a replacement and drank it fully under the watchful eyes of the hash.
Lay Em in Snow’s mutt definitely must have been shot-gunning some second hand or found a special brownie, as she took a dump in the middle of the busy street.
Stoned hipster Goes Both Ways showed his lack of comprehension of time, clean shaven in the Winter, and growing a beard for Summer… weird.
Dirty Girl and Men O Pause wandered off the edge of a cliff, weren’t seen for while… and then reappeared… smiling. Drugs lead to sex.
Baby was so stoned, we didn’t hear the horn half of the night as the hash horn was wandering about off trail… stoned I bet.
Men O pause was dazed and lost the rest of the night.
Pull My Woody exhibited a sure sign of a stoner, looking to sell anything he could for his next score, soliciting Master Beater to sell him car parts from his totaled Subaru.
Krusty showed up late… typical for someone always carrying around the pipe.
Running Dry in her probably drug-induced state, set her marks every 10 feet. The other hares helped steer her the right way, and rubbed out the excessive marks. This became ironic as her co-hares Hot Cheeks and Frigid Beaver supposedly being the “guides”, ran the hash near the shiggy, but never into it. It was like parading a pot head by a field of weed, and not stopping to have a toke – HASH SHITS to both hares generously donated by Lofty Prancer and Abandoned Pussy.
Dastardly had a bad trip, and was heard commenting, “there are no winners”. Implying of course in the ears of Rasta Beater that the hashers in the Calgary kennel apparently are losers? Drugs sometimes cause mood swings.
Frigid Beaver happily celebrated 50 runs! YEA!!!
Rubbermade rightly corrected the R.A. that the new boots had been forgotten, which she received a down-down reward for… and then wrongly didn’t carry her hash shit at the hash, for which she drank again in punishment.
Finally, Rasta Beater declared the hash “on the spliff”, and merriment followed. (Or at least munching and beer).
– Master Beater