Top o’ the mornin’ after to ya.
Hares: Chicken Dick, I 4 Beer, Itchy Sandbox
Hashers: Slurpee Seconds, Scottish Fingercuffs, Six O’Cock, Tranny Head, Diaper Rash, Ride the Pony, Too Drunk 2 Fuck, Coxcycle, I’m Not a Cock, Olive Dick, Semper Pi, Touch Myself In General, Hep-C, Big Fat Fuck, Donkey, No Pussy for Him, Lube My Beads, Rubber Gloves, Ass to Math, Analytical, Suzie ChapsDicks, Sex and Ate, Just Melissa and her Just twin, other Justs and a Virgin that I never knew the name of???, Cum On My Back-teria, Winter Merkin. Late cummers: Show n’ Tell, Just Susan, Rambush: First Blood, The Rapist (the latest cummer of them all)
Just so we’re clear, circle was the longest, most drawn out circle on record, clocking in at 1 hour and 47 minutes (not really, but it might as well had been…we were much more intoxicated and unruly at the end of circle than we normally are). Chicken Dick’s explanation of markings were shoddy to say the least, but he made up for it with the vest and bowtie ensemble.
The sun was surprisingly hot for the hashers, but honestly, who isn’t? The hares started off, and after 10 minutes, the rest of us merrily stumbled our way out to follow.
The walkers stunned and amazed all with their fitness in running, which can occur when there is no walker trail laid for them. The FRBs took advantage of their advanced abilities in sensing trail and locating flour and sped ahead of the course. At a couple of points, COMB and Lube were able to even successfully snag a hare or two.
Warm beer was available at each beer check, as was sweaty embraces from BFF, but no water, shade or nearly enough nudity.
Other highlights of the festive day’s trail included: Pony’s excessive cheekiness on trail (thank you wind), inappropriate arrows turning into falses, No Pussy’s wintery wardrobe for the event–WHY didn’t he get a down-down for wearing sweats on an 80 degree day???!!, Lube finding a condom — unused — in Chicken Dick’s flour bag — “No need for a safety 3rd down-down, he’s being safe enough”, and Itchy Sandbox’s phenomenal trail laying that no one ended up finding.
All of the shittiness of the day was made up for when the lead hare, Chicken Dick, took one for his team and grabbed the seat at the dunk tank. Although his tits weren’t as big as the following participant’s, strangers and “amateurs” crowded around to gawk and cheer us on in singing a merry tune fit for our hares. Green beer poured into many glasses for multiple accusations, including an ignored “boob check” by the ladies, and chivalry on trail from Tranny Head to a few strapping young boys in need of a man’s touch on their flat tires.