Unedited WriteUps from Flaming Fart and Wild Man

Much like you can't trust the trail a certain Big Shitter laid... apparently looping back on itself and leaving many a hasher like Tool Box exclaiming " well i'm just gonna stand here while you all figure it out".

This Monday's glorious hash started out innocently enough with the aforementioned Tool Box continuing her fall of epic proportions off the wagon declaring that she had "drank enough to make up for all of last month!" We were all quite proud of her. Screams her own name didn't, but did purchase some ultra nummy cajun tots that we devoured while she watched. Wild Man decided he was going hashing without the rest of us, but didn't get alot of takers since the pre-hash beer that hadn't been consumed by Tool Box still hadn't been chugged, and how could we leave beer unattended and just go running off somewhere?

And so the hash started... Ah, the wilds of Beaverwood, or wherever we were. It seems the hare found every route that could possibly be located between houses in suburbia... Honor!

Monday Monday
sometimes it just turns out that way

We wound up and down and around some very nice houses and power lines passing and repassing Katoy-Toy as his hash-flash blinded us. Following trail wasn't too hard as his booming "On-On!" could be heard for several subdivisions around. Snyphilis or some other FRB probably found the "first" Dora the freakin' Explorer Beer Check. There was beer and huzzahs all around and much advice for Flaming Fart about how to make Valentines Day special for Menstrual Psycho. Since she doesn't like sweets, it was decided pork would be a nice alternative. Then we drank some more.

The hashers the lit out for the next third of the hash expecting oh, possibly another Dora beer check and not an enormous back (sort of) check since the all wise hare couldn't remember where he was and ran for cover, dropping the beer check and the rest of the trail for what appeared to be familiar territory (Shari's). This was good since it gave us DFL's a chance to catch our breath while everybody else like Snyphilis ran around saying "this looks really familiar" as he ran the trail we ran earlier. Stinky made sure nobody was left behind while the rest of us headed for the strip malls.

Oh, Monday morning you gave me no warning of what was to be
Oh Monday Monday
How could you leave and not take me

Well, it was a fine end to a truncated hash that we ended up where we started. Chum Guzzler led a fine incomprehensible religion and demonstrated his grasp of some of all the hash songs, much like the rest of us. It seems there was a virgin and some backsliders and whatnot, though mostly we were waiting for the food and more beer. This hash even forgot which verse of "Swing Low" came next. We were all very proud of ourselves and decided to do more down downs to atone for our sins. It seems Just Natalie got named after all the festivites, but her new name isn't recalled at the moment.

Run # 40.5: Dora munching on Carpet, Big SHIT

There once was a Dora from Beaverton
Whose trail was somewhat un-certain
(It doesn’t rhyme if your Russian)

First the trail was way up high
And then it was way down low
With Snyphilis bobbing headlight way in front
But now I forgot how it rhymes
Just what the fuck happened to all the snow…snow…snow…
(Okay, that’s the echo bouncing off the trees there)

I’m from yonder Beaverton where trees are many
So one I found in a darkened spot for whence to pee
And by the first check down on deep Allen Boulevard
Wankers and skanks stood around hitherto true trail of naught
(If you’re French it’ll rhyme)

Pink Pylon and Flamin’ Fart missed a turn at a trail I saw
While Never IN Bed took that quick stride like a running pro
But Pabst Smear he annoys me more and more
He rants…that mudderferkin’ cunt stings my ear…I called him a whore
(This is a free country – free speech inclusive)

Katoy Toy waited in the dark for Winky the Angry Lion Fish she was slow
But then Stink Finger he too was getting fat and slow
And mumbled incoherently he’d rather stay home for TV’s ‘24’
This chick Tool Box she talks too much, sorry I asked
Because cute Just Natalie I saw and I sigh, ‘What a pair of ass…’

All the ‘On On’ and the ‘Are You?’ scared a dude and his hounds
And Pabst Smear, the guy could be gay and a case of nuts, ‘tis true I found
While Screams My Name, Bitch and Chum Guzzler they were far gone
Pink Pylon under the pylon with trail he was first, fast and on and on

Snypilis again found true trail where the rest are lost at best
And Skinny Bitch past the beer check from the wrong way
This is the Kahuna, bitch, and trail are best lay
And the food and the beer are superb, only five bucks you pay

There are no dicks and no tit checks as you have seen
Because BIG Shit da man, like me he’s morally clean
This I must say for the over twenty hounds I don’t care for global warming
Because I drive a gas guzzling van that’s way far gone it needs tuning
(Mongolian can’t poet it)
At the McMinnenenamin on-in the bitches requested ID be shown
I said, ‘bitch, is Irish terrorist I look and places to be blown?’
So Chum Guzzler the RA he quickly becomes
Making long story short, newbies and whining bitches to down-down they succumb

There is a malignant lesson to be learn for the poll
Just Natalie whose ass is a rock but her hash name I forgot
Somewhere in the book it relates to anything with a hole.

End by WM