Woonsocket Marathon Hash

Run #1177, Oct 20, 2008

Hare:  Bondo Jovi and Grandkids

Location:  Meadow Rd., Woonsocket.

Weather:  Low 50's, clear.

Present:   Dr WHO, Basket Boom Boom, Cumsocket To Me, WIPOS, Florence Wallbanger, Wee Balls, Scatwoman. Visitor: Good Pie Hunting (NH3).

The Run:

OK. We had it coming. We showed up. Could there be any greater lapse in judgment than to show up for a Bondo hash starting from his own home? Do we never learn? Already, this write-up is longer than the trail! But the RIH3 has to maintain its perfect run record, and so despite the risk of alienating any visitors or virgins, we continue to allow Bondo to “set” trail. (Nice knowing you, Good Pie Hunting!)

The hare claimed that his grandchildren actually set the marks, so for a brief shining moment it seemed as though there was some hope. Wrong! The crabapples don’t fall too far from the tree it seems. Trail (I take certain liberties in naming it thus) went up Meadow, and degenerated into a series of checks which led to falsies marked with vituperative adolescent comments in flour in the middle of the road. (“Wrong!!!”, “You blew it!!!”, “Ha, Ha!”, “Try again”, etc.) There was no true trail. There was no beer check. There was a brief run around the block followed by some beer with a girlishly giggling Bondo in the garage.

Not much more to say here. Except, whatever you may think, no matter how much the itch to hash has you in its spell, no matter how much you need to get out of the house and away from your significant other, even if you room with JIMA, no matter how much your church-going has convinced you of the worthiness of any human being, even Bondo, DON’T EVER COME TO A BONDO HASH IN WOONSOCKETagain! Have I made myself clear? DON’T DO IT! NO! NO, NO, NO! DON’T! JUST SAY NO! NYET! NEIN! NON! (I believe I just broke the exclamation mark on my keyboard. Sorry.)

The circle was formed. In the history of the RIH3 there has only been one other score to compare. A Bondo “run”, of course. Total: -6969^69. Hashit went to Scatwoman, I believe because she said she enjoyed the run, or something. The visitor left early, complaining of shin splints. They finished up and moved upstairs for Bondo spaghetti, football and a pool game between Cumsocket To Me and Basket. Home by 8:30. WOW, MOM.

On On