The Travesty

aka The Real Story !?

Run # 823 February 11, 2002

Hare:  Bondo Jovi

Scribe:  Basket BB

Location: Woonsocket

The Weather:   30's, breezy, dark

Management: Jake, Ben, Baxter.

The Run:

It was to have been a wondrous event, but sadly it ended with sadness and despair. The voting will be called to question for all time. The excitement lost forever, and yet few relish in this thwarted justice.

The air was cold, even if the hearts pounding loudly blocking the roar of the crowd, moved each to his own level of enthusiasm. It had been a long time, and everyone was filled with anticipation. Who would have thought it would vanish in a blush.

The Canadians would find happiness, and the remainder wondered…. WHY?

I am speaking of the Olympics of course, and how the Americans would be robbed by the Canadians of their gold. The Americans finished their programs, without flaw, and the crowd loved even reveled in its perfection. The Canadians had 2, some say 3 faults, and one a major that should have cast them to bronze at best. Even so, as the scores for the Americans were recorded: 5.8, 5.7, 5.8, 5.8, 5.8, 5.8, 5.8, for presentation, followed by even lower scores for the technical, it became apparent they were fucked.

Just as the hash was at the AGM. The hounds took the trail, after listening to the hare, Bondo, explain the marks would be found on the sides of the telephone poles. We left the warmth of the garage, neatly arraigned with chairs, tables, food, beer, and voting paraphernalia, into the cold New England air. Temperatures were dropping into the teens and the wind chill would pull many a penis into micrometer measurements. Do we hear “Major Shrinkage” here?

But first let me paint a picture here. This was the AGM and the first in at least 3 years. A major event, at the very least. Bondo has been a proponent for another, and even though advice was to hold it on a weekend and invite visitors to make a grand spectacle of it fell on deef ears, we bowed to his hineyness. Foolishly thinking he would go beyond what is expected of a mortal, and bestows on us the Bodhisattva Hash.

This was supposed to be a formal event. Dr. WHO had black tie and jacket, Ever Ready was dressed in her best sultry black strapless, boob thrusting, sheer to the waist Victoria Secret’s finest, Oozing and Wipos had exchanged their thermal underwear, and Basket cleaned his best, and only, lab coat.

As we ran along Meadow, following the hare’s direction, to the right from the driveway, not one mark was found. When we encountered the intersection, Dr.WHO went right, and the balance of the pack traveled left on both sides of the street. Still no marks! Basket, questioning sensibility, returned to see if the trail had actually gone right out of the drive, and encountered Bondo, who explained the trail was left and the marks were on the side of the Telephone Pole. Re-checking the pole, none were found. So I as when these marks would have been set? Oh, yesterday afternoon! “Before the downpour last night and 50 mph winds”, I inquired? “Oh, it rained that hard last night?”, responded Bondo. Any fool would have stepped out and set live trail, but Bondo, our French Canadian (remember?), decided it was best to keep warm in the garage next to the fire and beer.

Eventually all found their way in, and the voting for live trail was thus:

Dr. WHO 5.8 for endurance and going right around the block,

WIPOS 5.7 for sticking the trail to the left, but finding marks right again where there was no trail, took points away.

Ever Ready 5.8 for have a Bimbo on trail, and the best cleavage.

Basket 5.1 for turning back so quickly and settling on amber (beer).

Async 5.9 for staying home, and being Mr. MoM. (WOW)

Oozing 6.0 a perfect trail. Leading himself down Winter Street to Cold Spring Park, following marks from a month ago, and still making his way back to the beer and food.

Congratulations OOZING!

And Bondo ~ let’s just say we renamed him the New Moon.

As any Old Fart RIH3’r would remember, Moon was notorious at setting shitty trail. His last, from his porch, resulted in him being banned from setting trail, and allowing him to enjoy his Carling Black Label all by himself. Enough of the trail, the AGM could pull the whole thing off, right? WRONG!

Bondo decided, in his omnipotent wisdom, to judge the awards himself. Best Trail – Bondo, Best On On – Bondo, yadda, yadda. He did give Misses Enema Bill the worst hash, but in retrospect, we may have to rethink that.

The only Gold to come of this event…..ASYNC for Grand Master!

Now what can we do for encores?

PS, he also got Web Masterbater, Trail Master, and Hash Cash.

PPS, he owes us $25.00 to cover the food for the event.