Another Snake Den Virgin Territory Hash
 
Run # 707  November 29, 1999

Hare:   Async

Write-up by:  Basket Boom Squared

The Start:   Johnston
 

The first snow of the season arrived this Monday night at the most Northwestern corner of Rhode Island, at the Basket Boom Boom compound, and along with it a future GM, but later on for that.

The Hare, Async, laid trail in what he called VIRGIN territory bordering Snake Den Park in Johnston.  This being the first post-Thanksgiving Day Hash had quite a number of turkeys show.  Not all turkeys saw their fate at this holiday season, and that just goes to show you, the good die young. Our turkeys included Bondo Jovi, WIPOS, Little Neck, P.W., Tinker (bell), Oozing Syph, Basket (late again), and our leader Jake.

The pack waited for Basket for what seemed like hours to Bondo, and was about 1 ˝ minutes to the rest, and after that terminal wait, they were off and strolling. The trail led the merry band back down the street. A check had all confused, except Oozing who always manages to find trail, mostly because the others including Little Neck, Bondo, and WIPOS, have their little heads up their asses and "Hang Check".

The trail followed a well-worn path into the woods and skirted the Async famous Snake Den. After a short jaunt through the woods, they came upon a large mountain. They couldn’t go around it; they couldn’t go under it, so they ran up it, to many "What the Fuck!"s from our Brewmeister, Bondo.   Tinker had been seen hobbling along dead last when he decided to keep to the Low Road. This shows the need for education, as the pack soon followed his advice and was running along the lower valley floor.

A couple of checks later had the pack confused, but Jake this time found true trail over to a rocky overlook, and all found flour going once again uphill. This time Tinker decided to take the High Road, and being just behind the lumbering PW, found that being downwind from that firm yet volatile butt could be dangerous for one's health. The trail continued along the ridge until the Beer Stop was found overlooking (you might see it if it were light out) a great scenic view.

Beers were opened, and a distant bellowing of a moose or some animal in distress could be heard off in the distance. Conversation ran from Bondo’s "What the fuck, we’ve been here before!" to Little Neck’s "I told you the beer stop would be up here!" to Async’s, "Was that Basket’s horn?" A short while later Basket arrives from the rear. It is his best approach, and he quickly grabbed a beer. Before he had a chance to enjoy the splendor of a cold yet robust Pete’s Wicked, he was handed the Down-Down vessel for missing the last hash and was renamed Cyclops for his recent misadventures. It seems that having been under general anesthesia in the hospital is insufficient cause to miss the hash, or gain a little compassion from this group.

Last weeks Hash had its golden nectar spilled on the ground while under the watchful eye of the ever vigilant DEM’ers, and the fact that Johnston’s Finest had already made its presence noted this evening, the circle was held at the Beer Stop instead of the end. Down-downs were given to the 3 who had not the "Gift of the Blarney Stone" and for their crime of "Alcohol Abuse" from last week. PW got one for getting, dare we say it…the "M" word, but then he’s always been Pussy Whipped so it doesn’t matter that he’s made it a permanent lifestyle. Little Neck got one for his incessant whining and Async for his role in this "Virgin" Hash.

A swing low followed and the pack started out once again, downhill along the Power Lines and crossing a knee-deep river, not quite frozen as temperatures were still at mid-thirties (thank you Hare). A few dry foot fairies found that going along the high ground was not only dryer, but also shorter, and arrived at the car park before the remainder of the sloshing, complaining, frozen pack. The hare chose to regroup at Swampy’s in Greenville for libations and we were out of their wet cloths and into their cars quicker than Shine On could say, "I did not blow Rumson!".

The Barmaid at Swampy’s remembered us from previous stops here, and asked if we were going to wrap everyone in toilet paper again, or stand up on the tables mooning the patrons, not that she minded our antics though, as she was eyeballing Tinkers cute butt at the time. Food and Murphy’s Stout were soon being enjoyed, and a moderate sing-fest followed. The HASHIT was given to last week’s hare Oozing for displaying his Pakistani fault of polluting the environment. Then the phone rang and the waitress asked if "Bill" was here. Remembering that my mother use to call me that in my "PreHashDays", I answered and found Dog Meat insistent that I leave the fellowship of the Hash and go home directly. My daughter was there and she was waiting for me. Finishing my stout, I jumped in the car thinking that a catastrophic event must have occurred and an urgent response was necessary. I arrive to find my children (yes I have procreated) bought a puppy Saint Bernard for my birthday, and the cute little 7 week old bundle was looking for a good place to shit and my oriental rug looked just fine to him. He hasn’t had a beer yet, but as his father weighed 175 lbs., and his mother 160, I’m sure he’ll make a fine Grand Master with a "Don’t leave the camp" hash mentality…when Jake’s ready to retire that is. OnOn!

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