January 19, 2014, RIH# Run # 1503<br/>
The Hares take us to Church Hash<br/>
Location: West Exiter Church, Frosty Hollow Rd<br/>
Hare: Crotch Tiger Sleeping Puss and Pussy Galore<br/>
Pack: WHO, Ozzie, Klingon, Assquack, Crabby Shag, Just Lauren, Just Emily, Just KC, Bondo, Buddy, Amish, Heath, Fecal Veneer, Shemale, Pubic Housing, Donkey Punch, Rusty, Sleeping Booty, and Fuwangii.<br/>
Temp: 32 degrees with a beautiful starlite night<br/>
Hashit: OOzing
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Crotchy said, "You won't get my cookie!" and despite a huge disappointment groan from the Hash, the possibility of Pussy as co-Hare and an 'all bimbo' Haring, was more than enough to bring out a fair contingent on such a brisk winter's Hash. Pussy was somewhere out on trail and Crotch was confirming last minute information to her via her phone, as we started to gather at the gate. She cautioned us of ice on trail and in some places it could be dangerous. All this did was get the most machosest of all, Crabby Shag, excited. She wanted to get her feet on trail, as she's been away for 2 weeks. Heath got his nose a little too close to Next Week's little put, WHO decided to taste Heath's neck. As things settled down, Crotchy continued giving Chalk Talk, but said nothing about the length of the trail. She did say that there was a beer stop and that was enough to get the rest of the Wankers moving. On Out!
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The pack stayed mostly together as we rounded the first of many trail heads and ran along the main path. I had not seen any marks and when the pack in front of me slowed for the first check, I asked to see it. It was a micro thin line of flour, laced with some orange cool aid, which was just enough to insure I would not be seeing many marks this evening. Crabby found flour continuing straight and the pack reorganized and ran the long dusty road. It must have been a half mile out to Rte 165, where the pack started milling around waiting for the rest of the forlorn make their way into the woods on the other side. Then, truth be told, they found a YBF and all groaned again, but mostly Rusty WHO had the wind taken out of his sails and was seen walking most of the way to the beer stop. The pack continued on back to the last check. Donkey passed me twice and we could hear Crabby call "OnOn" up ahead. Negotiating another trail head, we started left along the river, for what seemed like eternity. I had twisted my foot on the rocks and caused my bad knee to become very tender and painful. This would hamper me for the rest of the night, and walking along with Bondo and the Klingon was almost as painful for me to  bear. I need to run and walking with the sick, lame and lazy was very humilitating.  
<br/><br/>I decided to start running, despite the pain, as with the large number of Wankers on trail, I didn't want to be last into the Beer Stop and find WHO drank it all. I caught up with Shemale, not much better than Bondo and Bitch, but he did make a few comments about my running ability, "That was a very acrobatic move around those rocks", as trail started downhill along an expecially icy section. We could see the glow of headlamps in the distance and knew the Beer Stop was near. Shemale said he didn't think he'd every been on this trail, just as we popped out on Heartbreak Pond....he was wrong. He set trail here last year.

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The selection of beer was Harpoon, Long Trail and another darker sumptin', all in plastic jugs and a few bottles in the sack. The Orange Food was not my favorite, but even Rusty grabbed a handfull saying he didn't care, he was starved. His wife, An How's Your Bush, was away in Ireland and he's been eating a the local pub, which consisted of most the liquid variety. 
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A number of songs were sung, with Crabby Shag our Choral leader. She's been studdying the Hash Bible while she's  been away and returned with renued enthusiasm. The Beer Stop lasted much longer than the beer, but that didn't seem to bother anyone. Pussy was here, for the first time since pushing out her little baby bimbo, and there was much to discuss. Rusty kept on about how disappointed he was about having to cross the road, like a chicken only to return like a dumb fuck. He also commented about the length of the trail and other complaints, until we all just said, "Shut the fuck up!". So your wife is away and you don't have anything to eat. "Grow up" or something like that.<br/><br/>
Eventually we packed up the trash and started out the two miles back to the cars. Not that I'm complaining, like Rusty about the long fuckin' trail. The circle was formed about half way, at Pussy's car parked in a small turn-out. Everyone made it expect Bondo and the Klingon, WHO decided to leave early from the Beer Stop and passed right by the location. Amish was not there, as he found Heath had a good tear in his skin and was taking him to the hospital. Donkey and Pubic were also missing and it was assumed they joined Amish.
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Comments on the run were mostly negative, with the exception of a horney Irishman, and Shemale, WHO never has anything nice to say. I found it interesting and painful, but fun and gave it a positive 69. WHO found the sum of the numbers to be mostly positive, but still rated a positive...zero. The Hares did their Down-down and sang, "When I was a little girl." Backsliders, Shemale, Fuwangii, Pussy and Just Emily gave reason for their absence and answers to Crabby's questions, or not. Then Bondo drove into the lot, sans the Klingon, and started to complain about everything. As last week's Hashit, I really wanted to give it to him, but decided on someone less worthy. It didn't stick and eventually, after much intelligent deliberation, it was decided OOzing was most worthy. Discussion about the date of the Ski Hash ensued for some time until religion. Then we drove over to Cornerstone Pub for some grub and beers, before heading home for the night.<br/>
That's all I got.<br/>
Basket