Hairy’s Hernandez Hash
“Run” #1528, Alice Agnew Dr., Attleboro, July 13 2015
Hare: Hairy Krishna with some Luxury Box Co-Hare action
Present: Basket, WIPOS, WHO, Booty, Hairy, LB, Assquack, Crabby, Crotchy, Amish, Glutenless, The Rapist, Butt Plug (of the Rhode Island Plugs), Just Elegba, Just Heidi, Just Nadav.
Weather: Hot, Humid, High Chance of Horseflies and Egun (espiritos muertos)
We gathered in the parking lot of the Roll & Tool, shaking off (but still shaky) the remnants of a weekend of Chocoruan debauchery. There were some hints of suspicious goings-on, even at the beginning. For one thing, a stranger showed up with a very long kayak on her car, looking for a kayak hash. The hare allowed as a kayak could be brought on the hash, but there might be a bit of portage involved.
Then there was the Santería altar. Right behind the building, there it was. Made from what appeared to be a pile of broken household furniture, animal fur and decoupage clippings from La Semana and Workers Daily World, and built over some kind of sacrificial pit, it made everyone uncomfortable.
Introduction of the visitor The Serial Rapist provided for some good entertainment as she mangled Just Nadav into Justin Love. The Rapist described her kennel’s Santería rooster drinking vessel and now we understand why she showed up and why the drumbeats of hoodoo religions were heard as we stumbled along to the inevitable conclusion of human sacrifice and hitherto unknown beverages.
Trail began and ended on pavement. Then continued into dry swamp, followed by 6.9K of power lines with some rocks. There was some forest.
Here’s where it got eerie. There were many decapitated animals. A cardinal, headless, next to a towel on trail. Woodchuck, no head. It was the trail of death. We ran by an outrageously large Victorian children’s play gym, surrounded by a bump-out fence from a creepy mansion. Behind that, and outside the fence was a raised-bed garden. Obviously it was full of zombie voodoo poison plants.
Later, when everyone turned to short cut up the road, WIPOS and I followed trail deep into the woods and came across a holding pen for pre-sacrifice children cleverly disguised as a treehouse. What gave it away was the “deer stand” up in a tree, with line-of-sight to the treehouse. Truly creepy, and obviously part of the worship of Eleguá, Lord of the Crossroads (and chilluns).
The sake check was held beside a 6.9 foot anthill. These were no ordinary ants, but tropical voodoo bugs, cleverly trained to seek out victims and bite them under their clothing. Luckily, I was next to Booty and was able to help her take off all her clothing so I could rescue her from their thrall. BTW, I loved my teeny tiny little sake cup!
The hare explained to us that he had put our lives at risk by running us by Aaron Hernandez’s (of the Odin-Lloyd-murdering-Hernandices) house, and in fact it was the very mansion with the weird kid’s playground and garden. Note that he doesn’t even have any weird kids! (That yet live, anyway.) Of course Hernandez is in the Federal Pen now, but his girlfriend Shaneah is not, and WHO knows if she is still hanging around in the woods seeking more victims for their rituals. It’s well known that Lloyd was not killed by a gunshot as described in the mass media, but that his soul was removed by Orishas called up by the sacrifices out in the woods. It was most likely Chango, having taken possession of Hernandez’s meat puppet. Shaneah wanted the house, so she convinced Hernandez not to go with the (true) Santería defense and instead to go with the ridiculous “Gun, what gun? I never shot nobody!” defense.
To complexify matters, Odin’s girlfriend Shayanna is Shaneah’s sister, and the two of them can be seen performing ritual sex magicks, scarification and branding on Ochún’s night in that clearing with the felled big trees, through which the trail led. That’s also where the gun was hidden, obviously. Ochún is the Queen of the Rivers, and although the rivers in these backlots are paltry, they are enough to draw her spirit.
Circle: Shitshow, except for, or perhaps as a result of, the thoughtful provision of much good gluten-free beer and truly awesome dry cider. There may have been ‘normal’ beer too, but WHO cares? Trail rating, obviously -0.069 (with a possible positive irrational imaginary component). I was apparently so loaded up on zombie tetrododoxin (one of those horsefly bites was obviously a blow-gun dart) I didn’t even realize I got Hashit until the Wednesday afterwards. I blanked so badly on my song that it brought up memories of a particularly horrible Best Man speech I kind of didn’t really give many years ago. I did sing something, though it is lost to history and good riddance. I do recall a rousing rendition of Has Anyone Seen My Cock, possibly performed by the Co-Hares? Attempts at naming fell flat and we swung low. Sorry, Justin.
On-After was at that place which keeps getting renamed in the Shaw’s plaza. At this point it is a “sportz” bar, and the most that can be said for it is that there was a waitress with outrageously creamy skin. Oh, and a lot of gluten-free items on the menu. But, that skin! So, so creamy. And possible jailbait at that. Basket was so intimidated (he’s shy, you know), he didn’t try to sing her one of his waitress songs. Or even ask for her to make his food “sweet”! Just Nadav valiantly asked her if she liked running and drinking -- “No.” So that was that, we finished our food & drinks and went home. We pray to Babalú-Ayé that he does not bring down genital rashes and/or the smallpox upon us all.