Joyce's Jig in Fucksboro
Run# 1348
Date: January 30, 2012
Hare: Donkey Punch and Pubic Housing
Location: F O'Gilbert Hills, Foxboro
Weather: Cold, Darkening till Dawn
Present: Donkey and Pubic, Amish, Fuwangii, Oozing, Dr WHO, Holeminer's Daughter, Bondo Jovi, WIPOS, Wee Balls, Rusty, Crotch Tiger, Just ?, Basket, Just Pat, Crabby Shag, Ass Quack, Flo Banger and others.
Hashit: Basket
The Run: It was the best of times. It was the worst of times...wait, this isn't the RI State of the State, but something much worse. It was to be a celebration of James Joyce with a special reading of Finnegan's Wake. At least the Gov gave a few lines of Dickens, but we'd have none of Joyce this evening. That was the good news. Have you tried reading Finnegans Wake? It begins in the middle of a sentence that isn't begun until the last sentance and ends where it started. As it took Joyce 17 years to write, we had hope this run would not be so terminal. Knowing in fact that Joyce was the king of run-on sentences, we were more interested in running on.
WHO had a bit of a problem parking his car and it may have been from having so many women telling him where to go or it may have been Basket's yellow flashing light blinding him meanwhile the pack quickly hid their beers thinking the arrival of some legal entity had arrived to spoil their flagrant abuse of public drinking laws as more Hashers arrived and took their place in a circle to hear the Hare's chalk talk boring as it may be yet it was strange to see everyone dote on his every word as if he was in fact retelling the story of a single day in Dublin told by Joyce in Ulisses of Molly as she guesses that Bloom had an orgasm that day and is reminded of his past possible infidelity with other women she also considers the differences between Boylan and Bloom in terms of virility and masculinity but Molly feels that she and Bloom are lucky despite their current marital difficulties and Molly recalls her many admirers previous and current and she wishes she had more money to buy stylish clothes and believes that Bloom should quit his advertising job and get better paid work elsewhere and she thinks about how beautiful female breasts are particularly compared to male genitalia remembering of the time Bloom suggested she pose naked in exchange for money...but I degress.
With formalities out of the way, Donkey pointen the out trail across Mill Street and into conservation property heading in a general northerly direction. Those fleet of foot found firm footing (say that 3x's real fast) but the old and crippled had a more casual pace, making their way among the boulders lining the path. I, luckily, found myself behind Crotch Tiger and Just ? for most of the first part of the Hash. Watching their cute butts gyrating in the beam from my headlamp made me think of younger days when suddenly Oozing asked me a question about my latest operation and brought be back to reality.
The Hare spiced the trail up with some interesting switch back trails on rolling terrain as we came to a check. WHO took the left tail saying it'd be a shortcut, most of the pack took the next left into a bushwack and the girls, Oozing and I continued straight thinking we may meet the pack further on. To our dismay the trail ended at someones back yard, so we started bushwacking in the direction of the howling hounds. The home owner and his childred called to us, asking if we were in trouble, lost or just disorented. Oozing explained the we were just following an asshole that laid trail in bush with a perfectly fine trail not far away. We continued climbing over trees, through thorns and across a swamp, getting lost a few times until we finally came out to the trail that WHO had previously suggested we stay on. Did we feel silly or what.
It wasn't long before we made it to the beer stop and, to our enjoyment, there was still beer in the bucket. Songs were sung and a bottle of Irish was passed along with the box of Lucky Charms and snacks. It was a mild evening for this time of year and despite a chilly start, I was feeling a bit warm. I donno, maybe it was the Irish. Eventually all things must end, so we started back out on trail.
On-back was straightforward, right, left, reverse direction, skip the shiggy, a little more bushwacking and back to the cars. I couldn't have laid it better meself. The circle was more singing, drinking, and 'ce que nous faisons'. Holeminer got a DD for giving up on the Hash and moving to Jerry Sandusky land to play with horses..ya right. Noone got the hand over the eye or spanish inquisition routine. Oozing had the Hashit, but dropped it on my shoulders and it stuck. The OnOn would be at the Chieftan Pub, and thoughts of liver and onions danced in my head. Unfortunately, it did not dance on my tongue, as it was dry, old and was more like an old sock pulled out of a soggey boot that was stuffed with onions. It will be better next time, as will the Hash because it's Hairy and Luxury Box at their best.
Basket