Once Again Around the Slopes Hash

Run #1246, February 15, 2010

Hare:  Bondo Jovi

Location: Diamond Hill, Cumberland

Weather: Low 30's, some ice.

Present:  Retard, Dr WHO, Hairy Krishna, Wee Balls, Can’t Eat Pussy, Oozing SD, Just Anna, I Eat Teabags, Just Leslie, Fuwangi Boner, Swamp Whine, Rusty, Shemale Man, Basket Boom Boom, Dogmeat, Tinker, Short Shorts, Sphincter Sickle, Brigham Tongue, Dicks on Broadway, and one or two others (maybe a virgin, even; but don’t worry, after this, they’ll never show again, anyways.) 

The Run:
It is unaccountable that the RIH3’s worst runs attract the most hashers. Certainly, not enough of the new hashers fully understand the true nature of His Bodhisattva-ness (this means the hare, for those not far on the path of Bondo-enlightenment). Or can believe the warnings they have received. But the old-timers certainly should have known better. This is what comes of not having a life.

The hare was true to form. He exactly copied the DOB trail from two weeks before. It takes something, I don’t know what, to do this and get away with it, all the while grinning like an imbecile. And when I say “like an imbecile”, I really mean he IS an imbecile. Unless you prefer moron. Or cretin, for that matter. But if the hare copies, then so does the scribe.

Trail led out of the parking lot south, parallel to Sylvy’s Brook. An inevitable check fooled no one, and they began the ascent after crossing the stream on some planks. No shiggy, except a little snow was encountered. No one got lost. Trail led northeast on a path to the old ski lift. It turned right and went up the lift path at a steep grade. Some slipped a bit on the loose rubble under the snow. But that’s about the only interest this trail had.

 

Near the top, a check split the party into three groups: one heading straight up to the summit, one looping around to the right, and one heading left. WHO knows which was the true trail. It really didn’t matter. There’s not that much real estate up there. They ended up converging on the north ridge, where they found the hare and the beer check. Seventeen minutes to the beer! But, the hare had cut 25 yards off the trail from #1244, and had his beer stashed a little closer to the out trail.

 

Bondo brew was shared. Surprise! Not enough beer for the crowd. The singing filled the gap. This time, luckily, WIPOS didn’t hear. He was probably off searching Catamint Hill for marks, not believing the hare could try to get away with a repeat, two-weeks later. Trail back came down the actual ski slopes. That’s really all I can think of to say. The circle was formed, the run rated, and not even the bimbos could save the hare this time. Total: -69! Visitors, backsliders, virgins, yada, yada. Hashit went to Shemale Man. Finally, about half the group headed over to Woonsocket for some Bondo Pasta and beer. What more can I say?


 

On On