6th Annual Red Dress Run
more
trash
as recounted by Krystal Tits
IF YOU SET TRAIL THEY WILL CUM in fact, they’ll cum one way or the other
follows hash trash for Montreal HHH’s 6th Annual Red Dress Charity Run
but first…
Once upon a time in
the far-off land of Boston lived a lamb named Mutton Drapes. Her owner, one
Cream Whora, had grown very fond of
her (free sex) and took her on trips… (ok, almost free sex). On one trip the
precious lamb was “misplaced” and the sheep shagger was very saddened. On a
subsequent trip to the fair city of Montreal, he tried to replace her and
purchased a certain Mini Drapes (cheap yard sale sex). The story then takes a
turn for the worse: after having abused her for a weekend’s worth, he tossed
her to the side like a 2-cent hooker (that’s very cheap dangerous sex). A good
samaritan found her lying by the
roadside beaten and bruised. At first reluctant to talk about her experiences,
she later opened up and told her torrid tale. To everyone’s astonishment, she
still wanted to see this Cream Whora of the Boston H3, saying: “He’s one
sexy biped”.
All efforts were made
to entice the Bostonian back to Montreal to claim his fair ovine, including a
picture of Mini with a local schnauzer, meant to make Cream Whora jealous. It
was all in vain. The poor Mini Drapes had been abandoned and now the ultimate
insult: she was stood up (no sex). Despondent and drunk by Friday’s prelube,
she decided to take up the offer to stay permanently with the lovely good
samaritan mentioned above, at the wonderful Montreal H3. By Sunday’s hangover
run, hashers from other less reputable hashes (Ottawa H3) were eyeing her
greedily. Only a last-minute tackle, worthy of the SportsDesk highlight reel,
managed to keep the fluffy Mini in Montreal.
She is now resting
and getting over the emotional trauma of that crazy weekend, but she is already
in good spirits and happy to have chosen to stay in Montreal where the future
looks bright indeed. She will be withdrawing her application for a green card
this coming week and vows to get over “that stupid American”.
OK, back to business
Thursday
definitely unofficial pre-prelube at the cheesy Salsatheque. Say what you will,
Salsatheque is one of those special places where you can see “regular
people” wearing stripper outfits. And the dance floor lights up so that guys
who can’t dance can do their Travolta impressions.
Present: Just Carole,
Cod…The Animal, Krystal Tits.
Friday walking
tour #1 in Old Montreal.
Guide: Krystal Tits
Walkers: Abbot,
Skinflint, Turkish Delight, Nefertits, Cod…The Animal, Just Carole, Just
Dorcas, LOB, Stinky Puss, B-Cupper.
The walk started near
Place Jacques Cartier, no relation to the jewelry guy, and meandered towards
Notre-Dame church. The group felt it wasn’t worth going to church since it
wasn’t as much fun confessing sins inside a gloomy building with no beer and
decided to wait till the circle that night. Only a few blocks later they decided they couldn’t wait 6 hours
for beer and went to the pub.
Friday Prelube
Karaoke Hash, run
#307.
Location: Waste
Island
Time: yes please
Hares: to you, my
friend.
Hares: Witchy,
Flipper & Penguin & Easy Ride (sort of)
Wankers present:
Cod… The animal, Just Carole, Little Bear, Mud Muffin, Abbot, Skinflint, Blow
Job, Boner, Just Jennifer, Dead Animal, Foxy Lady, Fig Leaf, Flipper, Krystal
Tits, Mustapha Kunt, Turkish Delight, Nefertits, Pop-a-Weenie, 6 of 9, Total F**kup,
B-Cupper, Captain Hook, Finger Lickin’ Good, Flounder, Great Sphincter, Just
Yuri, Peniscillin, Plastic Jesus, Double Fisted, Beth Does Dallas, Mother Cummer.
Unfortunately the
scribe was indisposed and failed to complete the run. By all appearances… it
was good, and then we fucked, we fucked for hours, uprooting trees and shrubs
and flowers, like Vikings, with horns on our heads. Oops, sorry. Won’t happen
again.
So, the run was good,
and there was beer, and there was music and there was dance. There was also a
theme to the run: “69 with a swine” and Easy Ride took home a little piglet
for his correct answer. Some got down downs for other means of transport, but as
one STM (Société
de Transport de Montréal, formerly known as ST-CUM; Société de Transport de
la Communauté Urbaine de Montréal) user was overheard saying: “It’s better
to use your HEAD than your feet”. There’s no arguing with that, and it rings
true, on more than one level.
There were also
unfortunate happenings that night, not the least of which was more than one
well-meant but decidedly off-key duo. That’s right, to the howling sounds that
accompanied chords meant to bring to mind such classics as “From a Distance”
and “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun”, a certain Boston hasher ahem cough cough
Little Bear cough cough stole back the Boston Mad Hatter Tea Party Banner.
No matter, by the time the conga line was grooving, everyone had forgotten about
lost trophies and lost dignity.
Little Bear
Honourable mention of
the evening goes out to Double Fisted, the narcoleptic. She was asleep in her
car for a large part of the evening, but to her credit, when asked about it the
next day, she had a clearer recollection than most of the can-caning rendition
of “New York, New York” that took place towards the end of the evening. I
pity her.
Before we wrap up the
evening’s tale, we of course have to mention the terrific work that a certain
Just Jennifer did in getting all our sorry asses prepped for the next day’s
big event. She tirelessly and smilingly painted nearly all 35 (times ten) of our
nails blood red in a frenzy of nail polishing. Not only that, but she was seen
“borrowing” fries left and right, earning her the name Sticky Fingers the
next day.
Saturday 6th
Annual Charity Red Dress Run,
run #308
Location: dOwNtOwN
Montreal
Time: sometime way
after the official 1pm start
Hares: Krystal Tits
& Boner & Mustapha Kunt
Wankers present:
Montreal H3:
Abbot, Skinflint, Blow Job, Brillo, Bush Pig, Danger Girl, Yogi, Dead Animal,
Foxy Lady, Double Fisted, Eager Beaver, Easy Ride, Fig Leaf, Flipper, Going
Down, Homo Erection, Just Christine, the McGill crew of Just Johnny, Just
Fernando & Just Serge, Keeps Coming, Muddy Nipples, LOB, Just Dawn, Just
Dorcas, Mr. Perfect, Snowbored, Snow Frog, Speedy, Turkish Delight, Just Linda,
Just Manon, Just Mark, Nefertits, Pop-a-Weenie, Princess Valium Charming, 6 of
9, Total F**kup, Just Hilda, Witchy, Penguin.
Ottawa H3:
Captain Hook, Stinky Puss, Chip’n’Tail, Just Jennifer (Sticky Fingers),
Delhi Belly, Plastic Jesus, Fat Ass, Peniscillin, Finger Lickin’ Good, Just
Yuri, Flounder, Great Sphincter.
Boston H3:
Cod… The Animal, Just Carole, Little Bear, Mud Muffin, Muffalotta, Wintoes 69.
Jacksonville H3:
Cotton Panel, 3D, Doofus White Boy.
Hogtown H3:
Mrs. Robinson, Giggles, Rub-a-Dub, New Shoez.
Assorted riff raff
from hashes of ill repute:
Lips’n’Assholes, Grab-Bag, B-Cupper, Just Kevin, Beth Does Dallas, Mother
Cummer, Just Ande, Just Per, Poptop.
So, we gathered, we
milled and mingled, we assembled in a holy parking lot of “what the fuck?? ten
bucks for parking??” and set off after much yelling on the part of the hares.
We followed the piper up Crescent all the while amusing and appalling the
too-trendy-for-you crowd already gathering in the hot Saturday afternoon. To the
tune of “Chariots of Fire”, the pack set forth, a sea of red on an otherwise
tranquil Sherbrooke street.
As one person
(Joanne, Old Cheddar’s mom) mentioned the next day, there was an advisory for
Saturday: “We advise for young children, especially babies under the age of 6
months, seniors and people with respiratory problems to have limited outdoor
activities”. Luckily hashers are half-minds and don’t pay any attention to
silly advisories. This said, when the hares caught up to the pack on top of the
mountain at the first stop, there was a teensy bit of bitching. The water/spiked
watermelon stop did the trick for a few of them, and they were able to pitch in
to do a half-assed attempt at the “Yogi Bear” song.
Afterwards I heard
something about the stop at the fountain in Carré Saint Louis (“Singing in
the Rain”) and the stop in front of the stuck-up Musique Plus V-jay, Claude
Rajotte (hash hymn). Let’s face it, you’re a 50+, balding v-jay at the
provincial equivalent of a second class M-TV, you think you’re cool because
you wear black and occasionally go to see foreign films in a dingy repertoire
cinema and you get all hoity-toity when a bunch of people in red dresses swarm
up behind you… I suggest he get a life and drink a few beers and get laid! but
enough Ask Hare Dr. Krystal Tits.
The runner pack finally reunited with the walkers at the infamous Peel Pub, holy site of more than one freshman student binge night. There’s nothing quite like witnessing the coming of age (at 19 or so) of that Massachusetts or Vermont-born Arts major, seeing him/her plunge into the depths of wretched excess after having been deprived for much too long of alcohol and cheap chicken wings. It was the middle of the afternoon however, and we were not blessed with technicolour yawns of McGill’s finest.
After that we headed
out to Wanda’s, our favourite strip club. The girls working that afternoon
must have been quite surprised to see so many people walk in, and even more
surprised to see that some of us were quite the athlete. Plastic Jesus and Fat
Ass demonstrated their unequivocal skills on the pole, to much applause.
Unfortunately Wintoes 69 missed all that, being tied up by helping another
stripper through college by buying a lap dance from her. What a big-hearted man
he is.
At the on-in, after
some question about beer and other essential things, we settled in for at least
a couple of hours of circle and auction.
Notable down downs:
hares for doing such a shitty job: S-H-I… T-T-Y… T-R-A-I-L! Shitty trail,
shitty trail, the hares set a shitty trail…etc, etc.
Going Down for new
shoes, was made to drink some dirty sock-strained beer out of one of the
offending sneakers. In her lovely ball gown type dress, the scene seemed rather
mismatched. New Shoez assisting.
 |
Best dressed Well built |
 |
For best-dressed 2002 Homo Erection, Mrs. Robinson and some other hasher were
invited up. Turns out Homo Erection lost his title to the ravishing Mrs.
Robinson. Other unworthy mentions (in my book) include Wintoes 69 for his little
backless number and Fat Ass for his pink polka-dot number.
The rest of the
afternoon was spent in a happy haze. All I remember is at one point I was
removing Dead Animal’s nail polish and listening to a conversation about how
not to get ripped off by an Indian taxi driver.
After a brief return
home to shower and change, we eventually met up again at Winston Churchill’s
and had an evening of fun watching New Shoez and the gang get hyperactive on the
meat-market dance floor. There’s something about getting “fake shagged” by
guys repeatedly that keeps the usual aqua-velva/hair gel predators at bay. Go
figure. On his end, Plastic Jesus was just too comfortable in his dress and
refused to change, to the great chagrin of his better half Double Fisted. Other
than that, the evening was pretty standard.
When it was all said
and done, some may or may not have gotten lucky. Some may or may not have joined
the ranks of those over-eager boozing freshmen. All wore red dresses at some
point.
Sunday Hangover
Hash, run #309
Location: far out on
Ile Perrot, “halfway to Ottawa!”
Time: 11am!?!
argh
Hares: Abbot &
Skinflint
Wankers present:
Wintoes 69, Muffalotta, 3D, Cotton Panel, Doofus White Boy, Boner, Sticky
Fingers, Brillo, OAP, Dead Animal, Foxy Lady, Double Fisted, Plastic Jesus,
Peniscillin, Eat Me, Old Cheddar, Fig Leaf, Flipper, F*ck Yorick, Total F**kup,
Krystal Tits, Mustapha Kunt, Turkish Delight, Nefertits, Witchy, Penguin,
Pop-a-Weenie, Delhi-Belly, Fat Ass, Flounder, Great Sphincter, Just Yuri, Beth
Does Dallas, Mother Cummer, Mrs. Robinson, New Shoez.
So this was it,
the wrap-up run, the last hurrah. Again, this poor scribe was deprived of the
experience of a hardy 45-mintue hangover run because of her achy-breaky foot.
Instead I enjoyed the company of several other would-be hashers. One of them
offered to lamb-sit Mini Drapes. I accepted graciously.
Once they were all
back, I did rounds, trying to figure out what had gone on in the respective
houses that past night. Nothing too exciting, but I did get to spend quality
time with Doofus White Boy. OK, where the fuck is Palatka anyway? and does that
mean anything in Russian?? Whatever, at least I learned how to do the 3d loser
sign. (ask me about it next time you see me).
There was talk of
Delhi Belly in a French Maid’s outfit (just the apron). Beth Does Dallas was
accused of “being FBI so that she didn’t PO on trail”. A terrible
accusation no doubt. 3D sold off her haberdashery stock, even shedding the
t-shirt off her back! Such a selfless act that was surely appreciated by all the
male hashers around.
At the circle there
was another naming. In a conversation with an out-of-towner, Just Hilda
explained her lack of hash name by saying she “hadn’t done anything
folkloric enough” yet. “Alas, F*ck Yorick, I knew her well”. I was
later accused of belonging to a much too literary hash. Other circle happenings:
Peniscillin tried to make off with my precious lamb and was tackled to the
grass. Some hashers sang to amuse the masses and win priceless Super-C t-shirts.
It was revealed that Super-C is actually the name of some ultra hip little-known
strip club in Montreal… (Super-Cunt?? Super-C…???).
And, for my benefit, The Abbot even tried to lead us all in “Tampon
Factory”, a perennial favourite; “You can tell by the red that you’re only
getting head, you can tell by her stance she’s got cotton in her pants… etc,
etc.”
So that was that.
Shortly after people packed up their Subarus and hit the road.
Weekend quotables:
“Why does Captain
go around with a monkey on his back?” -- Double Fisted
“No, I can’t
stay. My wife wants me to move some furniture today.” -- the piper after being
asked to stay for a beer
“So you came
together!? and you came late!” --
a hare on Fat Ass & Delhi Belly’s late arrival
“No no, I eat
everything” -- Melroy, host of the hangover hash
“Why is there duct
tape on the watermelon?” -- innocent hasher overheard at first Saturday stop
“I need a cabana
boy!” -- Delhi Belly
--insert memorable
favourite here--
Albino Pussy
aka Gulp, aka Krystal Tits
