Jerk Circles in Wrentham Hash

Run #1011, August 15, 2005

Hare:  Trail Hoover (SESYB)

Location:  Wrentham, MA (Wrentham State Forest).

Weather:  70’s, cloudy and humid.

Present:  Ben, Seamus, Just Nathaniel, Sparky the Hobosexual (NH3), Naughty Bi Nature (NH3, a.k.a. Just Michelle, a.k.a. Pond Her On It), Snotty (Henfield H3), Dry Foot Fairy, WIPOS, Tinker, Dr. WHO, Bondo Jovi, and Basket Boom Boom.

 

The Run:

After many undisclosed bribes, Sparky and Naughty (Newport/Rhodie fence-sitters, who deny any linkage to bowling alleys (sure, yeah, whatever they say)) arrived with and at the behest of Dry Foot. Just Nathaniel didn’t require bribery. Rather, he was looking for payback from his beer offering from the previous week – he received nothing. Snotty from Henfield H3, en route back to England, attended the hash after receiving lavish payment from Basket (what Basket used as compensation can only be left to the world of speculation, where it should stay). Unfortunately, no amount of bribery could keep Bondo away, while Dr. WHO, Tinker, and WIPOS remained in the lonely company of the innocent. Or were they? And with that, the sorry-looking group was off, heading south out of the Wrentham State Forest parking lot, located along Taunton St. just north of Rt. 495.

The trail quickly reached 495, thus the only option was to go westward, paralleling the highway. Dr. WHO and Basket blazed away. Soon, a mark led to a deep, dark orifice. Who might be lured into this hole from which natural fluids passes? No, this time, WHO was not attracted. It was Basket who curiously and eagerly penetrated this conduit leading south underneath the highway. Blasts of air, reverberating through a wet pucker, made horrific sounds… just Basket, sounding his horn to announce his successful penetration of this dark passage.

The rest followed. Pathetic. When will they ever learn?

Exiting the dark tunnel, Basket was briefly blinded by the light. He disappointingly followed the creek bed until another tunnel beckoned him to enter. So he did, with the others quickly gaining ground. Exiting the second tunnel, Basket was giddy as he penetrated two dark holes in one day, the most he’s gotten in a long time! Dr. WHO and Dry Foot were no less appreciative of the offerings by the hare. Smiles and all were quickly quenched by a “BC 8” (translation, back check 8). The trio of jerks decided to sucker the other jerks into the back check. To make their efforts believable the three jerks ran in a circle past and around the back check. Watching the rest of the jerks being suckered, they re-entered the orifice for a speedy yet satisfying reciprocation in direction.

WIPOS stood waiting at the opening of the first tunnel, as he appeared to be weary of anything deep, dark, slippery, and wet. Hmmm…. No comment.


Less than 10 minutes into the run, comments included:

Dr. WHO: “F*ck, I see this sh*t every day. I should get paid for this!”

Basket: “Woo hoo, woo hoo hooo!”

Dry Foot: “Sh*it, I’m following Basket. When will I ever learn?” (um, never)

Snotty: “I came across the pond for this bloody Yankee sh*t. Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!” (which was exactly what he was doing.)

Just Nathaniel: “Hey, this is kinda fun!” (that’s how it all starts… that’s how it all starts.)

Sparky: “Oh, this looks quite familiar. I think I have a picture of this from my colonoscopy exam.”

Tinker: “At my age, I thought I’ve seen everything. Oh well… Bonsai!!!”

Naughty: “If I push against the sides, can I keep from getting wet?” (But why? But why???)

Bondo: “Where the f*ck are those f*ckin f*cks!” (in Bondo’s better interest, it was best he was lost somewhere on the other side of Taunton St., as this experience for sure would have him in a state of traumatic emotional shock, or transic euphoric delight… but who knows? Does WHO know? Who knows if WHO knows? …as usual, I digress.)

Trail Hoover: “I knew you guys would love it!”

Seamus: “This is why I only sniff it. And they thought WE were the dirty animals!”

Ben: “What, you don’t lick it?”


Anywhooooo…. After multiple satisfying penetrations of the multiple holes, true trail led westward along the north side of the highway. Continued to be led by Basket and Dr. WHO, they soon reached a check on Hollow Rock Trail. Dr. WHO went northward, while Basket jetted off to the northeast. The rest followed and then stopped, since calls by WHO and Basket were just a little too eager for Just Nathaniel and Tinker to follow. Sparky , not realizing the mistrust of the others, plowed ahead anyway, and followed Dr. WHO and others in a long circle jerk (more accurately described as a jerk circle). But only Dr. WHO managed to complete the entire circle, thus being the true jerk.

Meanwhile, unbelievably Basket was on true trail and the FRB, with Snotty in tow, heading north along Warner Trail. A check allowed most, including the hare, to catch up to Basket. Then the pack, on a side trail, reached back yards of suburban homes. They sheepishly stopped, for none wanted to find themselves in the back seat of a cruiser. The hare pointed straight, entering the periphery of private property, and all dutifully obeyed. They emptied out onto Beech St., where trail continued northwest.

They re-engaged Warner Trail heading north on the other side of Beech St and quickly reaching two swampy ponds, leaving some to wonder if leeches were in their future. At the check Basket went west, Dr. WHO searched south, and Just Nathaniel looked northwest. Nobody chose true trail, which headed north. The hare directed everyone into creating another jerk circle around the pond, as WIPOS and Naughty (stupidly) obeyed. The rest behind them saw Sparky on the opposite side of the pond and abandoned the second jerk circle.

Trail then headed up a hill were the beer check was reached with a nice view of Wrentham for all to enjoy. A medley of Harpoon and cheetos were savored. Bondo was still missing, but nobody cared. After the beer check, trail went straight down the abandoned ski slope. Just Nathaniel and Dry Foot were having fun pretending to ski down the slope, until the runaway freight train Sparky came barreling down the slope, poised to take out the two ahead of him. With cat-like reflexes, the two managed to avert Sparky as he flew down the hill and yard-saled at the bottom of the slope, quite reminiscent of Bondo’s misadventure on skis during Run #981.

With everyone safely down the slope, a check confused most, which led to Naughty’s moment of hashing glory as she was FRB! True trail finally bent southward and met up to Taunton St. where it was a straight shot south along Taunton St., and the last half mile back on darkening wooded trails to the parking lot to be met by…. Bondo. No hash is perfect.

Circle was held and a pathetic display of sucking up to the hare ensued. [Did I say pathetic? I’ll say it again… paaaaaaaathetic. I digress.] What was even more pathetic was the display of chicken sh*ts after a police cruiser pulled into the parking lot. Even Snotty was dismayed at the mass confusion and anxiety at the sight of a cop. Nevertheless, despite all the sucking up to the hare, the mathematical total for the run equaled a +6.9! Hashit to Dry Foot Fairy, for no apparent reason whatsoever.

On-on-on was a Box Seats in North Attleboro, and Seamus expressed much joy for the departure of the circle full of jerks. A failed attempt at an impromptu naming for Just Nathaniel to "Amish It Head" failed due to a hashing technicality. There are rules in hashing? We’ll see next week.

And with that, Oozing missed the best hash ever! Perhaps when Snotty returns to England, he can be a character witness and help spring Oozing out of indefinite detention. But then again, Snotty as a character witness might not help Oozing’s case.


Prime Minister Blair: “Mister Oozing. Given the powers afforded to me by the British Parliament and the British constitution, I hereby declare you to be detained indefinitely. For the sake of your family, their children, and the children of Britain, I implore you, on behalf of all peace-loving citizens of Britain, to confess your guilt and help us expose this reign of terror crippling our society at its very roots. And you cannot deny your association with this auspicious underground cult that calls itself the hash house harriers.”

Oozing: “Prime Minister Blair. May I ask you one question? Why are you George Bush’s bitch?”

Blair: [begins sobbing uncontrollably] “He.. he.. he.. [sob] he’s just sooo mean, and rough, and.. and.. and.. [sob] with that huge belt buckle and enormous cowboy hat and talking like a five year-old… [sniffle] I hate that bloody Yank! [sob] …but he has these photos of me with…”

Oozing: “Prime Minister Blair. May I call you Tony?”

Blair: [sniffle] “Uh huh.”

Oozing: “Tony. Why don’t we have a seat over here on this couch, you can relax, even lie down. And please tell me all about it, from the very beginning. Take your time. Everything you tell me will be held in the strictest of confidence, you have my word on it. But before we begin, I want you to repeat after me: 'It's not my fault.'”

 

On On

Dry Foot Fairy