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Barnacle Box Naught Eye Girl
Kahuna Run 176
"Absolutely Perfect Day to Hash"

This is usually our slot for our celebrated Smush Ball game with many a hasher sporting a Post Gold Rush Hangover but for some reason hashers were not all that lugubrious today. After last weeks death march many were expecting a debacle of epic proportions. . "I know that hash debacles make for more hash Trash Readings". Guess what it didn't happen

It was a hash with many of the faces, costumes and crazy stuff that make for a great hash run. Beer flowed freely and the hares tried to extol Hump Hash start times but the masses made them qoph (great scrabble word) their beers and be own their way. We were soon spread out by a boob check by a strip club when Screamer and Red Wings soon found true trail toward a run down apartment complex. The locals yelled and cheered us on. By this time the 3 vestal virgins (Brad, "Some Dude who later showed his dick"and Harry) had the knack of hashing soon led us down a needle infested alley. Lick My Squirrel and Man Milk paraded us over a fence and toward the well hidden beer check.

It was fantastic to hang and drink Pabst on a sultry Monday evening. TinkerBelle and his little dog, and the girl the with bruises (I love Balls) arrived on time. A Harbinger of things to come.

The Stitch and Bitch for the night consisted of Red Wings, God and a few others I don't remember. But they got an earful from a bitchy old lady in hair curlers with a tatoo that read "Back the Fu^k Off" as she screamed "GET THE F*** OUT OF HERE" from her beloved trailer trash balcony in the loudest blood curdling scream one could imagine. This drove Hare Krotchna to hijack a shopping cart transporting various hashers from check to check.

It was that type of night, everybody was just plain giddy; it seems the entire city was a bit tipsy. Mr Cream Jeans actually sat and read to kids on the curbside. Some starry eyed little girl had us sign her little notebook and parents were actually out on the streets cheering kind of wishing they could be out looking for beer with us. That's a really fun moment while hashing as we hash to escape a little from every day life and suddenly we are interspersed in some total strangers everyday life. Its a really fun moment in the hash.

And a strange thing happened as we were reunited with the golden nectar in a fantastic park on Holgate. We were treated to a great sunset (dazzling yellows and subtle purple streaks) overlooking the city. "James Riddle" (that's his Monday night hash name) was smart enough to roll the keg over to Religion.

Snotty Balls in his new position as RA for life expertly led religion, and one of the virgins showed his entire body and Brad told a fantastic Airline Crash Joke I had heard nine years earlier but its still funny on a night like tonight.

Pants off to the hares. Wacky innovative, keep the pack together trail with ample beer.

Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius -Very Shitty Hash.

Random Stuff

• Winky and Katoy toy. A warm congratulations from the Kahuna Hash. Now raising little hashers.

• The Slut Machine reached a milestone. Either she turned forty or she drank a forty. I am not sure.
• Today (The Day of this Hash) "Racist" Usain Bolt broke the world record in the 100 meter dash. His average speed was like 23 miles per hour.
• Today (Today at the Hash) hashingwe ran (kind of) past a traffic control sign on Gladstone that measures speed limits. Blast Rag recorded the same MPH (23) as the the fore mentioned world record holder.
• A sneeze travels at 100 miles per hour and the male sperm exits the body at a tepid you guessed it 23 miles per hour.
• Mudd Butt always delivers. A big thank you for getting the little things done.

On-On
Big

Hyperbolic Mister Tinkerbell
Kahuna Run 175
"Perfect Day to Hash"

As expected 30 plus hashers stood on a hill at 7:10 waiting for our hare of the day, the ever capricious EverReady bunny otherwise know as Tinkerbell. Out of the clouds appeared Tinkerbell with his Damsel at his side sporting a hatchet protruding from her head and complaining about concussion like symptoms. Something tells me they were pre laying, this course of Epic proportions. Or maybe it was a typical day in Tinkerland.

Two complete virgins were amongst the 32 half minds that took off on a 3 hour tour, much like the unsuspecting Mr. Howell and his cache of cash, and this led to a pretty predictable loop through the Park. This time traveled us to an inane circle jerk that led us to a cascading cliff of death, which some short cutted, then we started heading up. Somewhere above the tree line DownTown and Flaming Fart led us back to another treacherous single track trail that ended in car traffic. Cars whizzed by us with horns a blaring as Coitus found true trail back into the woods once again. Any half mind would deduce that the days are getting shorter and the fact that we started on Tinkerbelle time as well as were about 14 miles into this run it was starting to get dark quickly. But we were only at the beer check. (Hard Ciders, Beers and a Hefe).

EDITORS NOTE: Could somebody please give us some insurance that our beers are actually cold.

We then proceeded to run another six miles through everybody's back yard in southwest and then climbed another cliff down to to another busy road. By now Hydrolicks had enough of the foreplay and Slut Machine was sick of going up and especially down and slowly what evolved is the Beloved Stitch and Bitch. The back of the pack gossip walkers on endorphins. You set a trail long enough and the stitch and bitch will emerge.

Then we got to the second beer check. At the first beer check an hour earlier it was getting dark but at the second beer check we watched the most amazing sunset. We all drank cold beers and Snotty Balls had a look at the Hatchet still buried in "Balls" head. (That is a strange sentence).

After the last (so we were hoping) beer check we ran another 50 or so miles but the last quarter mile was epic. We were treated to a log crossing above a raging stream in the pitch black night only only lit by The Perseid meteor shower. And upon crossing the stream Gabriel Park suddenly appeared from the ashes.

And there was beer at 10:00 on a Monday night in Tinkerbell time and space.

75 -Holly Goes Hashing

Dear Mom and Dad

I know it has been in awhile since I last wrote but, last night I thought I would head out of the suburbs and try something a little bit different. My friends Chum Guzzler and Frigid Hole convinced me that hashing would be the ticket for me. (Hopefully you have not read the IKEA stories). Well I get to the start and there is this cute guy named Granny Panties and a girl (they call girls Bimbos) named Hairy Krotchna are drinking Pabst Blue Ribbons beers – and 40 people showed up on Labor day for this thing known as hashing. Personally I would have rather been at the Victoria Secrets labor day half off sale, but here I was standing talking to some drunk person(s) named Rectal Rooter and Lips and they smelled of beer. I had a bad feeling in my loins. Well the organizers of this debauchery were the hares Stink Finger and Wet Spots ran off into the woods with a bunch of flour and and Stink Finger was mumbling swear words and when they left we stood around some more and drank more Pabst Blue ribbon. By this time I was into my third blue ribbon and I starting feeling loose and good and then I realized Mr Cream Jeans was going to run this trail with his two year old son. How hard could this really be.

Eventually we all started running down hill on a nice pavement road and you would not have guessed what happened next we followed trail down a bank with Poison Ivy and Mud (all the while some low lifes Shitty Kitty, Lion Queen, Big Shitter and God ) cheated like Pumas in heat
while I slid down a hill with the likes of O and Mystery Meat and had mud up my private parts and then we ran up another hill and we were greeted with more F*****n Beer.

I had a Bridgeport IPA at the beer check, but I was starting to get stupid drunk and a tad bit horny (don't know where that came from ) as the trail started going up. Slut Machine and Gym Nasty took a trail the wrong way (what fun is in that) and I could hear people yelling On-On from every where and some Visitor from South Carolina (lacking necessary Tools) and his wife were getting along fine. The end of theis debacle was at a dive bar on the top of the world named the SkyLine Tavern.

All my new friends (what a bunch of Dicks) stood around a drank a bunch of beers as we watched the most beautiful sky and ate delicious burgers and corn (I hate this Hashing thinG) and then these people (what a bunch of Dicks) started having this Religious thing (I told you this place is crazy) led by Mystery Meat. He was quite a funny minister or RA as when people (the fat Dude) interupted he snarled, "Excuse Me this is my Circle" and when they called up the Virgins , guess what Mom and Dad, I was one of the them.

I did a down down with 2 wankers and I beat the living crap out of them two downing my down down in 2.4 seconds leaving those boys in the dust....

These kind people asked me if I was coming back I said....

"Not very Likely".

Love Holly