Run # 801  September 10,2001

Hare:   Ooozing

Scribe:  P.W.

Where:  Arcadia

The Weather:  70's, clear

Present:    Enema Bill ( Look at me!), PW, Just Susan, Potty Favor (Gaytona), Jacko, Sex Something, WIPOS and the virgin Connie Swail

MisManagement: Zoe, Baxter, Bondos 2 mutts 

A setting sun greeted the peaceful hashers in West Greenwich last Monday, marking the last peaceful run of the year.  In the first instance of that great Pakistani-American friendship, Hare Oozing met the Yankee runners on his territory, in front of some long forgotten Baptist Church on Rt 165. This location was safely beyond the Shine On zone. 

Bondo, PW, Just Susan, Sex something and (unfortunately) Enema Bill (Look at me!) were joined by visitor Potty Favor, of the Gaytona FL H3, and his local bodyguard Jacko. Jacko also bore a striking resemblance to Bodhisattva Bondo, rendering the hash in to a state of confusion right from the start. There were also some walking- and nameless- virgins, who will be mentioned by name if they show up again. Standby hashers Async and Dr Who could not attend, as they were engaged in Rhode Island knitting competition finals. Enema Bill spent the pre hash time complaining about his car, Bondo spent his time satisfying Jake. 

On Out was called in the general direction of Breakheart Lake, which may or may not be in Exeter. Dodging pungent piles of horseshit, ( which many hashers thought was a cleverly camoflauged WIPOS), up and down the dry trail past checks and balances and downed observation towers.  Dry trail continued into the woods without shiggy or delay, the monotony broken only by the sound of our well coiffed visitor comparing the RIH3 trail to those found in some geriatric Florida community. This saga continued for the duration of the run, with Just Susan as the audience, and Jacko as the straight man. Luckily, no voting  took place. The trail eventually led to a small stream surrounded by thorns, providing some shiggy for those who sought it, and some blood for those who wanted that. 

 At a convenient fork in the trail, the pack was able to lose Enema Bill (Look at me!), who decided he knew a better trail, and Bondo, who decided to walk and blow his Shofar in private. Fortunately, we never saw Bondo again. Unfortunately, we did find Enema Bill (Look at me!).  The meandering trail led out to the lake, a convenient piece of trail leading clear around it. The Hare was seen laying fresh flour to guide the runners, which prompted the Gaytona visitor to urge a group pantsing of the Hare. Oh those wacky Floridians. 

Here the runners diverged. PW, Zoe, Sex Something, and some other old fart (Look at me!) led out around the lake, followed by Just Susan, Gaytona and Jacko. Bondo stayed put declaring " let the beer come to me!".  The artful Oozing, mindful of our H3 recruiting goals, failed to stop the walkers from taking the 2 mile tour of the lake. They are believed to be still out there, as faint calls of "Are You" have been reported by DEM rangers.  Ho hum around the lake to the beer check, conveniently placed at the point at which the pack had exited the woods. Harpoon, the Boston version of Schlitz,  was offered to the stragglers who came in. one by one, making this perhaps the longest beer check in H3 history. Darkness rolled in during the check, as did that other unpleasant surprise, the well clad WIPOS, who had driven to the beer check, thereby avoiding the first 18 miles of this run. 

The Hare gave on back directions, assuming that the pack would gladly run through unfamiliar trail without flashlights in hopes of finding the West Greenwich/ Exeter border marker.  Instead, the road back was taken, Bondo leading, PW and Enema Bill (Look at me!) close behind, followed by a group discussing the relative merits of Florida roads.  While stalking the pitch dark road, a car roared by this hapless scribe and his elderly companion. We dodged into the woods, recovering in time to catch the license plate of the car. Running through the laptop attached to Zoe's back, it belonged to WIPOS, a fact confirmed a minute later, when the slag stopped to pick up Bondo and return the Bodhisatva  to the cars. Wankers all.

The extra long circle was joined, ensuring a down down to our new ally OOzing, the hashit WIPOS (for the drive by offense), and the Gaytona visitor for a lame story about his naming. His bodyguard Jacko, was down downed after answering the key question (What is the air speed of a swallow?), along with the Sex something guy.  The run received a 6.9 , unusually high due to 1) the absence of Shine On and 2) the absence of Enema Bill's ( Look at me!) bollocks dangling in the dust.

The On On was held at some South County restaurant.  Enema Bill (Look at me!) tried to sing to the waitress and was asked to leave, although in his version of events, " They loved me". Bondo tried to shove french fries up his nose, Gaytona talked about an especially wild gaytona hash that involved sheep, and Just Susan smiled through it all, like a Jr High school teacher chaperoning a field trip to the Museum of Science.

On on!

P.W.