This must be Christmas Hash

Run #977, Dec 27, 2004

Hare:  Oozing

Location:  North Attleboro, MA

It was Christmas Eve in the harem; the eunuchs all standing there.
A hundred dusky maidens, all combing their pubic hairs,
When along comes Father Christmas, striding down marble halls.
When he asked what they wanted for Christmas, the eunuchs all answered, “Balls!”

Then: The Ottoman Empire ruled for centuries over much of the known world. It was a dynasty of Turkish Moslems that conquered its enemies from the Persian Gulf, to Southern Europe, to North Africa.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrp! Fast forward to…

Today: Another Moslem, a Pakistani, attempts to change history, by moving Christmas back 2 days, and setting his Hash through the hallowed grounds of the La Salette Shrine in Attleboro, Mass. The Christians that fought in the Crusades so many years ago would roll in their graves if they knew Oozing was setting trail where Basket laid such a magnificent Hash not very long ago. But that was then and this is just another sad attempt to copy the great one.

The Hare, Oozing, and his concubine, SESYB, found that God does exist when awakened on Monday morning to find a foot of fresh snow was covering their marks from the day before. This was a sign they should not have ignored, but they did anyway.

The Hounds: Basket, Fuwangi Boner, Dry Foot Fairy, Tinker Bell, WIPOS, and Seamus along with late cumers: EverReady Eager Beaver, KNO, and Boston Wankers: High Anus, Moaning Lisa, Hair Club For Queers, and Strokes A-lot converged at an unsuspecting Bliss Dairy expecting the worst. Async, Bondo and Dr.WHO evidently had more sense and found suitable excuses.

The Hair faced East, said a prayer, and led the pack south on Park Street with not a mark to be found anywhere, until he pointed into a parking lot on the right. The pack searched for anything resembling a mark, but finding none, turned again to Oozing for direction. He said we could find a pink flour mark or two by crossing the street and into the field towards the Christmas display at La Salette.

The snow was up to our knees as we trudged our way up the small hill leading to the Stations of the Cross. (It was here that Basket, along with Polly and Tinker found themselves at the top of Calgary and ran down the steps. After crossing over the barrier and ‘Do Not Enter’ sign, a small boy holding his mothers hand asked if he could go up and see Jesus hanging on the cross. His mother said no one was allowed to climb the holy stairs. And he asked, “Then why are they doing it?” pointing to the Hash, now running through Joseph’s crypt.) Hash: 603, Psalm: Jesus Can’t Be Hare, Verse 12: He’s hung like this….

Fewer marks were found as we continued to look for direction from Allah, and eventually saw footprints leading across a field, back across a driveway, and into a wooded area. The Hare laid back, as we made our way on this circle jerk and finally out to the street again, where we picked up his footprint in the snow. We continued in the opposite direction back into the woods, where we picked up the Hare and Late Cumers from Boston.

Fuwangi was first to cross a stream which left most of us with at least one wet shoe, as we slipped off the snow covered rocks and fallen trees into the cold water. You could hear the Boston wankers complaining of the water temperature with words that were not spoken at the Shrine, and being a good Christian I won’t repeat them here.

This was not going to be a short, “god it’s awful nice to so considerate” Hash, as Oozing and SESYB had trail continue on through the woods ad nauseum. Eventually we made our way to a parking lot, where SESYB and Tinker had parked his car. Knowing that he wasn’t getting lucky, we guessed there was beer to be had. And we did. And it was good.

Songs were sung and beer enjoyed as we watched the snow plowers doing their thing with the snow and wondering if we would be joined by the local police. Eventually it was time to move on and we made our way back to the Bliss Brothers parking lot. It was here Oozing asked where we should circle up, having not pondered that question previously.

We first tried the back lot at La Salette’s. The lot hadn’t yet seen a plow, but Basket and Fuwangi drove onward as the rest watched in awe. Fuwangi, didn’t have the 4 wheel drive option and found himself stuck. There was some discussion about leaving him and moving off to beer and food, but a bunch of us got behind his truck and gave him a push.

We then moved on to Capron Park. The roads here were plowed sufficiently to allow all to drive safely, including Fuwangi, and Down-downs were administered to the Hares, visitors, backsliders, latecomers, and Hashit to Fuwangi for missing the class on driving in the snow.

We then made our way to the Christmas feast and swap me gifts. A larger pathetic selection of crap couldn’t be found anywhere. There were rejects from years past and choice exhibits from other lowlifes bottom drawers, including: a tit mug, vibrator (SESYB hasn’t yet reported how well it works, but have you noticed how happy she’s been lately?), and an assortment of quarts of America’s finest (not) beer. Unfortunately we weren’t thrown out and after some singing, eating, drinking and making merriment, we left a half empty quart of Natural Light for the waitress, and we made our way home…as the snow turned into rain…..

It was Christmas Eve at the OnOn, the old men were at the bar.
Talking about the old times, thinking back so far.
Along came a dusky maiden, by Christ she was so fair.
When asked what they wanted for Christmas, the old men all answered, “Hair!”

On On