Hash Trash - Run #260

Montreal Hash House Harriers

Hash Trash by Kristal Tits, Hash Scribe

Plateau Mont Royal, Sunday, October 14th @ 1 PM 
Hares: Homo Erection

Wankers present:
Flipper, Boner, Mustapha Kunt, Homo Erection, Dead Animal, Foxy Lady, OAP, Brillo, Pop-a-Weenie, Lady Dye (and driver Chris from the Carolinas), Neutron Bomb (and friend), Princess Valium Charming, Muddy Nipples, Just Colin, Just Michael, Yogi II, Rub-a-Dub, Turkish Delight, Log Off, Virus

Preamble:
I managed to lure two more yung’uns to the hash with promises of “beer and other cool stuff”. So we showed up with plenty of time to spare, at about 1:20, the tardiness of hashers being one good thing in this world we can still count on. One thing we had not counted on, however, was Homo Erection *gasp* forgetting the beer! It almost made me want to go home right there and then.
Still, when the time came, we all stumbled out into the cold grey light and stood patiently while Homo Erection rambled on and on about his precious markings. He must have used up more flour explaining things to us than on the trail itself (as we will see later).

The markings:
Right… as Flipper so astutely pointed out, “Homo Erection’s blobs are really tiny”. In fact, she may have said “small” not “tiny”, but who’s going to quibble with me?? 
So his blobs were really tiny, and they mostly went straight ahead, and there weren’t too many backchecks or false trails. 
“But hey, at least we found the trail”, admits the abashed live hare from two weeks ago. 
I am disappointed however, at the lack of creativity on the part of our hare. Apparently, last time around, Homo Erection set a trail that included “penis arrows”. Hashers were encouraged to count them and the one closest to the actual number won a fruit basket! Sounds like fun. Maybe again next time, eh, Homo Erection?...

The trail:
Yes, it was too short. Turkish Delight even went out for an extra run around the block… and now that I think about it, how come she didn’t get a down-down for that!?!
In any case, forty-five or so minutes after setting out, we were back at the Homo pad, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the golden fluid.

The circle:
I guess when a r*n is uneventful, the circle has to compensate. Many infractions, sins and transgressions were noted and duly punished:
¨Yogi II and Princess Valium Charming were made to do a “back to back” for having ‘hot parking meters’. This is not the first time Yogi II has had altercations with stationary objects. I remember well the r*n where he came back all scratched up from tussling with a parked car. Perhaps extensive therapy would be of some help.
As for Princess Valium Charming, she received a parking ticket some weeks back. Hey, even the most tenuous links are accepted at the Hash, they may even be encouraged. 
¨Princess Valium Charming also downed for having made it to the US’s terrorist tracking database. Congrats!
¨Just Colin and Just Michael for not dressing appropriately. Log Off for having the best purple and grey fuzzy track suit ever.
¨Rub-a-Dub for racing, and also for leaving us for the land of bad bagels and Maple Leafs hockey.
¨Kristal Tits for wearing the same thing as the Religious Advisor.
¨Homo Erection for “straight on” trail. How to cure it? WANK!
And please, let there be no more mention of pulling down OAP’s britches.
¨Surprise, surprise, Mustapha Kunt for fouling the trail.
¨Homo Erection for not having gotten beer. I say, next time we stretch him out on the rack.
¨Lady Dye for bullshitting the Religious Advisor, and for a most wonderful song about a lady and some bedposts?..
¨Homo Erection for “geographic f*ckup”, being a songmaster and surely a few more things I’m not remembering at the present time.


So that’s that. And now for random trash:

Some poetry:
Anthrax?? Who said ANTHRAX? I’ll have some of that! And so we did, and it was good. And then we ran. We ran for 45 minutes, following tiny blobs, going straight and avoiding the park,… like Hashers, laying an ANTHRAX trail!…

Quotes:
Give me your hand, I’ll show you where to put it.
-Yogi II to Princess Valium Charming

I think the guy that stole my visa wanted to be hash dray.
-Homo Erection on the Montreal Hash House Harriers’ lack of a dray


Interesting facts:
The Montreal Hash House Harriers cannot sing for their lives and suffer from terrible bouts of short-term memory loss, to the great despair of our visiting hasher, Lady Dye.
With this r*n’s mooning, Dead Animal is poised to break the “100 moons” barrier. We wish him luck in his quest.
Pop-a-Weenie is obsessed with the song “Father Abraham”. The reasons for this remain uninvestigated.
The blue-feathered spear-tailed sparrow is the only non-predatory bird to nest at altitudes of over 200 feet from sea level.
Foxy never irons, but will do other “domestic” work…
Turkish Delight leaves things to the last minute like every other normal person.
Just Michael used to go to class piss drunk. A hash hero if ever there was one. 
Double Fisted has officially converted Muddy Nipples to SOUP. A scary moment:
--At first I was saying: “Anna, not again…”, but now I understand! […] She will be very proud of me.


NB: I have made use of FULL (as in, unabbreviated) hash names in this drudgery of a report, lest I be criticized, once more, by Numbskull for producing unreadable garbage. If the use of these FULL hash names causes the text to be somewhat stiff-like, I beg your indulgence and remind you that it is all in the name of clarity, clarity to the point of pain.
*sound of cracked whip*

Enough drivel. As always, comments, questions and suggestions can go to hell.

-The Gulp (aka Kristal Tits)



songs 
(first verse, chorus and 2 best verses)

Four and twenty virgins
Came down from Inverness.
And when the ball was over
There were four and twenty less

Chorus:
Swing your balls to your partner
And your arse against the wall.
If you never get f*cked on a Saturday night
You’ll never get f*cked at all!

DA was so excited
And racin’ round the hall.
A-pullin’ on his pecker and 
Showin’ off his balls.

The village magician he was there
He gave us all a laugh
He pulled his foreskin over his head
And he vanished up his ass.



The Lady of the Manor

The lady of the manor
Was dressing for the ball
And then she saw a tinker
Pissing up against the wall

Chorus
With his bloody great big kidney wiper
And his balls the size of three
With a yard and a half of foreskin
Hanging down below his knees
Yippiyayooooo
yippiyayeeeeee
Bedpost riders… in the sky

The lady wrote a letter
And in it she did say
I’d rather be f*cked by you, sir
Than his lordship any day

The tinker got the letter
And in it he did read
And his balls began to fester 
And his prick began to bleed

He mounted on his donkey
And rode up to the strand
With his balls across his shoulder
And his penis in his hand

He rode up to the manor
Strode right into the hall
The butler cried: “God save us!
He’s come to f*ck us all”

He f*cked the cook in the kitchen
He f*cked the maid in the hall
And then he f*cked the lady
The greatest trick of all

They say the tinker went to heaven
-----tape stops here-----

To find out what happened to the lady, you’ll have to either remember the lyrics or ask Lady Dye. My apologies.