#1781 – Last Hash Run of the Year!

Hare: Dr. Fill
WhereShamrock Hotel, 2101 – 11 Street SE
Big Rock: One last time
Attendance: 16

See Photos from the Run!


Lost’s Episode

The hash, as told to me by a lost Lost in Space, the evening’s Religious Adviser:

Hardley was Choir Master – by all accounts, he sang poorly, which in the hash is of course good.  Tighty Whitey commented that the choir was like a bad MC at a wedding… it still manages to work.

Spitting Balls begged to keep the hash shit one more week as he wanted to dress it up more

Buried Pleasure snitched on Skewbic Hair for showing up early to the run – which Skewbic as a rule never allows to happen.

Rubbermade snitched on King Shit for complaining that someone stole the hash camera and took under the clothes pictures.  King Shit threatened to put the pics on the internet.

In turn, Rubbermade responded, “who cares? No one knows who it is”.  Rubbermade may have volunteered at that point to do a complete and thorough investigation.  I wasn’t there, but I know Rubbermade…

Dementia was called up… but no one remembers why

The rest is Lost in Space by Lost in Space.  Its swirling out there somewhere in the cosmos, but it has no hope of coming back to our Lost.


Master Beater

#1779 – Christmas Tutus!

Hares : Twisted Sister, Rubbermade
Where: Rosemont Community Hall
On-In: The Local 390
Big Rock: is fabulous!
Attendance: 38

Frozen Beaver & Dr Fill

See photos from the Run!

Double Deuce Hashmas! 

What a bunch of naughty, naughty, naughty girls and boys!

A great trail set by Rubbermade and Twisted Sister complete with Christmas Light displays and booze from a straw regroup – such a classy group!

Despite a trail looping through wonderland, Scrooges Dastardly and Hot Cheeks were heard not quite ‘ere out of sight, “This is want happens when girls set trails” and the standby favorite humbug, “Who set this shitty trail?!”.  The latter one earned the head shit for one Ms Cheeks.

Baby was unimpressed with the lights and distractions, and was later spanked with a down-down by the RA for being a, well, a Baby about the Hash Hold being so long!

The run was not without controversy, as Not Too Deep and King Shit mysteriously disappeared during the run, and just as mysteriously reappeared in the same parked car in a seedy little corner of the hockey rink lot.

Not a surprise really, since Cocktail was wearing Rubbermade’s Tutu… or Rubbermade was wearing Cocktail’s…  oh never mind.

Men O Pause tried to lighten the lack of Christmas spirit by handing Sucks Everything the keys to his new house (but not the double secret password to lower the drawbridge or the code to type in that would raise the wrought iron gate with spikes blocking the entrance to the alabaster marble driveway).  Strange that he would entrust the keys to the castle to Sucks, who was incapable of remembering to drag the hash stick during the hash, but a naïve pause and his house are soon parted…

Mmmm Lady Fingers and Cam Shaft showed up to provide some added cheer, and it was fitting that the Christmas 22 Hash was held at the Hash fav bar, Local 390.

Cam Shaft showed up to pull his 100 run gift mug from under the tree, and hashers attempted to hold off a mid-winter’s nap as they waited, waited, and waited for Master Beater to sip his half yard for 200 runs.  The Pink-Beater daughter, Savannah perhaps should have stood in for him based on her chug of the remaining liquor at the Re-Group?

As I saw it, there was hardly a dry eye in the house as i-Prick, Skewbic Hair, and Master Beater caressed the hash’s ears with beautiful holiday influenced hash songs.  There had not been a finer trio since Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis, and Dean Martin crooned the very same tunes – in fact the resemblance of i-prick and Skewbic Hair to Sinatra and Martin was really uncanny!  Those that disagreed were probably just bitter old Scrooges.

Hardly masterfully shared the spirit of the season as the night’s Baby Jesus R.A., awarding Christmas mini-half yards to Lost in Space and Can You Hear Me Now, and had a lot of harrierettes and hashers reach in to feel around his sack to see what would come out.

Desmond Tutu/Gomer Piles lost his crown, Goes Both Ways his balls – both on trail

Hash Mattress Rubbermade was presented her very own shiny New Year hash shit for what we hope will be her future great work on running the hash!

Near the end, as with all holiday parties, this one fell completely apart.  Shakespeare and Lay ‘em in Snow sacrificed an innocent pineapple with the help of a Local staff’s samurai sword to bring in a Pineapple Express of snow.  It should be noted it didn’t work, and a poor pineapple was chopped mercilessly for the folly of drunk super-slurrin-stitioned Shakes and Lay’em.

I still don’t know why we needed to bring 2 “#2’s”…  I carried a pair around all night and no one collected them, and Pink Meat complained they stank all the way home.  I’ll never understand Christmas, or the Spirit of the Hash completely I guess.

On On!

M. Beater


#1778 – The Hasher Games

Hares : Granny Panties & Running Dry
Where: Bella Roma Restaurant
Big Rock: with pizza!
Attendance: 33


See photos from the Run!

As a cold and icy night falls on The Capitol (AKA Calgary), the people from the districts gather together to see who will be chosen for the down-downs.

District Sets a Long Ass Run in The Cold: Grannie Panties and Running Dry

District Can’t Hold a Note in the Choir: Masterbeater and Baby

District Stalker: Roaring Nancy and Tighty Whitey (Tighty is leaving his clothes at Roaring’s, so he has an excuse to always go back.

District Too Much to Scribe on Her: Dementia (taking hooker phone calls while on trail)

District Threesome: King Shit, Pyro and Thunder Tits (Watch out for her, boys! She is a man user on trail!)

District Slap a Bitch (AKA Lac La Biche): Archive Goes Both Ways

District Xmas Party Crew: Spitting Balls, Buried Pleasure, Dr. FIll and Frigid Beaver

District Nerds: Skewbic and Menage a Trois

District Down on Trail: Twisty

District No Life: Comes and Goes (his 200th run)

District New Guy: Tim (Now be known as “Lying Sack of Shit” for trying to invent his own hash name of Hackysack)

May The Odds Be Ever in Your Beer!

Effy (AKA Abandoned Pussy)

#1777 – Birthday Beauties

Hare : Dementia, Mucky Dip & Frigid Beaver
Where: Joyce on 4th
Big Rock: You’re as young as who you feel
Attendance: 39


It was a celebration of magnificent proportions! Everybody who was nobody was there. Amidst the decorations, games, cake and beer you could find the Birthday Beauties celebrating in style. Dementia, Frigid Beaver and Running Dry know how to throw a party! Conspicuously absent was Mucky Dip… or was she? Has anyone ever seen Mucky and Skewbic Hair in the same room? Either way, Skewbie’s impersonation (complete with pointy hat boobs and a tiara) was spot-on and we barely noticed that Mucky wasn’t there. Somehow overlooked was poor Frogodile whose birthday was a mere 11 days away.

To start the party, we were provided with grow-sticks, blow-sticks and paddles. The blow-sticks were a disappointment to say the least, and inexperienced hashers blew and blew to no avail. Ménage à Trois was seen teaching Baby and Gomer Piles how to use their paddles. Unfortunately in the excitement that followed, Baby lost one of his balls and consoled himself by sadly blowing his horn in the corner. Undeterred, Ménage set about showing Spitting Balls how to activate his grow-stick with a good whacking. Spitting Balls was later found mumbling something about an STD. Feeling saddened by her inability to impart her knowledge of grow-sticks and paddles, Ménage à Trois tried to throw herself in front of a bus. Thankfully, Pyro, ever the gentleman, made sure everyone else made it back to the bar in one piece.

As with every party, there are those that are determined to ruin the fun:

  • Blue Balls was accused of being the sexiest. Or was it sexist?
  • Party poopers Dr Fill and Buried Pleasure tried to bore everyone with their incessant babbling about gloves and shirts.
  • Bare Down There told lies about the innocent virgin Rob in an attempt to punish him for something that was likely her fault. This behaviour can only be blamed on her lack of a positive role model (ahem… Granny Panties).
  • Roaring Nancy and Anne brought a beer cooler that smelled like after-birth – apparently this is a family tradition for birthday celebrations. Ew.
  • There were also several uninvited party-crashers… Sonia, Marg, Joel… who the heck are these people?

The festivities wrapped up with Thunder Tits pounding down shots in honour of her 400th run (gheeze, get a life). Then with Tighty Whitey’s blessing it was on to cake!

On on!

~ Froggie

#1776 – In a Calgary Galaxy Far, Far, Away….

Hares : Cocktail and Not Too Deep
Where: Mustache Pete’s
Big Rock: You Better Believe It!  Grasshopper all around
Attendance: Small but Determined

In a NW galaxy far, far, away…  where Not Too Deep and Cocktail are believed to inhabit, the hash broke some terrain not tread in many moons. Many were asking at the bar before the run, “I mustache you why are we here?”

The answer was evident from the start – a really well laid trail by the hosting hares that made the small group of stalwarts who made it out on the “breezy” and “cool” evening work hard and think about the game.  Failure here meant exposure, frozen appendages, perhaps death.

Sneevil again ran the circle like a well-trained hamster (don’t we have a Hash Mistress to do that?..)

“Working smart” the hash shit huddled together at a stop light in a twisted, tangled, orgy of warmth-giving body contact.  Mouthful claimed this was ONLY for survival, but it looked more like a nice convenient excuse to exploit Krusty.

At run’s end, it was Squawk Box arriving to the regroup first, and immediately tearing a strip out of anyone who would listen that her regroup beverage was not immediately accessible.  She was quickly quietened when it became evident our wise and experienced hares were well prepared for this night, it was not their first run.  Lysol had stolen Cocktail’s mini-semi truck and popped it open, revealing the Cookies and Cream Liqueur goodness?!?  Joy to the World!  The hash devoured and gulped the life sustaining regroup goodies – Christmas had come early!

Cocktail pulled the double duty of Religious Advisement, tearing through the small contingent for sins and recognized achievements – some imagined and some might have even been partly real.

A family affair occurred at the front of the room with the pleasure giving trio of Dr Phil, Buried Pleasure, and Spittin Balls crooning the tunes.

Krusty had archived, and was duly recognized with his welcome back beer.

Dirty Dancer had been crabbing something about Mouthful needing to give him his way, and was singled out for it.

Hot Cheeks was up front for something – but having the dazzling cheeks she has, I have no memory of why.

Granny Panties is 100!  Runs that is!  She gulped down the mug of…  water, and then was overjoyed to learn she got to keep it!  (One would think perhaps some things would be learned after 100 runs???)

Master Beater had been eyeing Granny Panties’ mini-mutt eyeing the hash shit, only to find he should have been much more worried about Sucks Everything trying to hump his shit.  Although it was first Roaring Nancy who was presented what was left of the Hash Shit stick for his endless vocabulary of songs, in the end, Sucks got what he so strongly pined for.  His very own remodeled pull-along Hash Shit, though no one is ever going to want it back now.

Somewhere along the way, a bashing Beetlejuice was sighted.  Not in the sky, but in the bar.  But then she disappeared, and in her place, a bashing Knobslinger appeared before the hash.  Sightings,and  disappearances?  Maybe there’s a reason the hash hadn’t ranged in the NW – perhaps our elders know why.

There was probably more, but time and distance can dull one’s recollection – and it was Tuesday night by the time I reached the Meat mansion.  I was lucky to remember where I even had driven from through the night.