Butt Plug get everyone wet Hash<br>
Run#  1360<br>
Date: April 23, 2012<br>
Hare: Butt Plug<br>
Location:Goulds Gym, Norton, Ma<br>
Weather: Clear and cool after a very rainy weekend<br>
Present: DOB, WIPOS, Butt Plug, Async, Basket, WHO, Crotch Tiger, Pussy Galore, Rusty, OOzig, Fuwangii, Wee Balls, Bondo, Last of the Spread Cheekin's, Shemale and others
Hashit: Basket<br><br>
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to heaven, we were all going direct the other way...and so begins a tale of two titties.
Life is good. A tropical low brought much needed rain to the Northeast. The last few trails have had little shiggy to speak of. Oozing had to run us through the North Attleboro Zoo's animal waste depository and DOB found the 10 Mile River a small piss stream able to be crossed without getting wet by even the most inept of us. But now every stream was bursting over it's banks like Dog Meat after a roll in the hay with Basket. (eat your heart our...you know WHO you are)
Butt Plug decided to take us to his old hunting grounds, where he knows every fuck spot in the woods and proudly led us throught the condom dump. He certainly had his way about town back then, and in short, the period was so far like the present period. I'm pretty sure he was able to find his way, but not knowing east from west gave a few of us cause for alarm. 
It was to be my first 6:30 start in some time, as I closed up shop on time and turned westerly on Rte 123. Unfortunately, Golds Gym was east and after calling Dog Meat to confirm my directions and almost stopping a cop for directions, I vaguely remembered the map I posted on the web site may have gone in the opposite direction. I arrive at the start at 6:45 along with Fuwangii. Letting him change from his civies in private, I started out alone. 
The flour was adequate and the checks were well marked. A few checks were not easily found and the direction changed enough, so that a lone old fart might have a problem ciphering direction. Trail led out from the lot along bike trails to a sand pit, but rather than use up every square inch, as most half-minds might, he went straightaway out across an old RR trunkline to pavement. At first blush, my thoughts were WTF, but after a mile more it was HHFSWTHM. 
Fuwangii was seen far behind, as I ran along the straight path, and I caught up with WHO by the time we traveled through the neighbood with neatly landscaped lawns and children safetly in their homes on Wilbur Street. Bondo was on his bike and like the raven wispered, "Too Deep" as he traveled in the opposite direction.
The street ended at the rivers edge, and as WHO and I searched for trail, Fuwangii had an opportunity to catch up and join our hunt. Trail was found and led along the river heading upstream. The trail was a mix of bike trails and garbage dump. A few streams were crossed with little effort due to the planks and pallets tossed like panties at a fuckfest a half century ago...but I digress. As WHO, Fuwangii and I came to crossing of the Canoe River, we found a convenient Hash bridge, and gingerly made our way without falling and getting caught in the snag, 
It was a few years ago that Mother Goose slipped in a similar situation, pulled by the current under the branches like the Grim Reaper pulling her to her grave. It tool all of me and Little Necks strenght to pull her free. Too bad Bondo didn't try to cross...but I digress.
The Beer Stop was within shouting distance and we made it there without hesitation. There were a few IPA, and some really crappy shite, but everyone seemed satisfied with the selection, except Oozing as he watched Fuwangii take the last IPA. Rusty tried to the pull the pubic hares over someones eyes, as he filled one IPA bottle with something, replace the top and pretended to pull a fresh cold one from the cooler. Only OOzing protested.
The Beer Stop was fun but short. There was some singing, but Pussy became bored and promptly sat her arse on the wet ground. DOB considered climbing the tree house, but thought otherwise after promising Mrs DOB he would not attempt it again after almost being killed in last years fall in a similar situation. I suppose it proves even Hasher can get smart, until WIPOS did his tree climbing act with stick in hand. 
We didn't wait for his fall. The beer was gone and there was more at the Circle. Trail led out to a new housing development and onto Rte 123 again. It is amazing how one could fall so far from grace. At on moment we were devilishly deep in shiggy and then next wearing our shoe leather off on pavement.