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Why do they lock gas station bathrooms? Are they afraid someone will clean them?



half-mind.com
"Cool hash page"
December 2002

Halve Mein Hash 329 - August 15, 2010 - Buskirk, NY

What: 5th Anal Coon Country Hash minus one year!
When: Saturday, August 14th 2010
Where: Coon/Corn Country
Hare: Rainier Queer
Scribe: Dirtbag
Hounds: 1st leg: Piggy, Dairy Queen/Poptop, 6.9 on the Rectum Scale, Kock Koozie, Decibelle, Lego, Stops to Pet the Pussy (Burlington), Bondage Barbie (Boston) and Dirtbag. 2nd leg, add Super Flaggot, Name Your Price, Virgin Kaitlin, Virgin Jodi, Sirens Cums Loudly (Harrisburg) and Panic Button (Harrisburg).

So here we are again in Coon country, and yet again it really is CORN country. The usual suspects gathered at the designated start location and time, with the addition of a couple of visitors from Bostington. After all cordialities and pleasantries were dispensed we bid the hare to fuck off and get busy with the trail. And he did. The pack milled about smartly and applied sunscreen and bug spray. If we had known what was ahead, we would have armored our legs with pants and shin guards, and our bodies with full length shirts, battle dress would have been appropriate, more on that to follow.

After pre-lubing and chalk talk the pack was off. The hare made it look like it was going to be an easy trail, but this was not to be. After leading us through several corn fields, hedge rows and road crossing he started to put on the pressure with his first shiggy crossing, this one was mostly tall grass, with hidden logs, oh joy. We managed to get through this little bit with only one man down, yours truly. I was helped to my feet by the lovely Kock Koozy, and was off again. The pack made it through this shiggy with nary a scratch, but not for long. The pack was off through yet another corn field, to a check point that brought false trail to a garden and true trail down a shiggylicious stream. I of course being the wise old hound zenned through the false trail and out to the nice smooth road. Looking to the right back to where we started I saw a check in the road and headed, (who said head) in that direction. I could hear the pack in the stream, bitching and complaining as only a pack can following the shiggy trail. I tried to get back down to where they were at, but got about a 100 yards into a bunch of ragweed, and had about a thousand bees buzzing around me, and decided to go back to the road and wait for them. I shouted words of encouragement, you know the ones I am talking about, ON-ON, and they came. I really hadn't noticed that the trail had gone under the road through some 7' culverts, but this wasn't lost on Piggy, who decided these were the perfect place for an impromptu song check. We found out at this point that Kock Koozy is thoroughly disgusted at the thought of leaches as she departed the watery depths. She got up the courage to rejoin us for the song check, and stayed on top of the beaver dam that was blocking the culvert. With the impromptu song check over, it was back onto trail. Of course it was back into another corn field, go figure. Trail led up the hill to the recently acquired, due to the unfortunate passing of his mother in-law, house of the hare's. Finally a beer check.

Milling about on the porch was quite nice, shaded and just the right temperature, it was too bad about the gnats that were trying to devour our blood that was slowly oozing from the many scratches we had received during the first part of our journey of pain. The hare was away again, but we had noticed that he didn't have much flour, hmmmmm. We were mindless of this fact for quite awhile, until we started off again and noticed that he wasn't setting much scent, hmmmm. Anyhow, out to the road went the trail, and back towards the afore mentioned stream. All of a sudden a big SUV bares down on the pack, blaring horns, and screaming obscenities at us. Low and behold it was a car full of late arrivals. They thought they would make it in time for the circle, but instead made in time for the last 2/3rds of the trail. Yay. Unfortunately for them, they were less appropriately dressed than the people that had actually prepared to run, can you say flip flops, sandals, and a sun dress? Not only were there 4 hashers, but 2 virgins as well. Anyway back to trail, back into the woods and into the cornfield from which we came, back to check with a new true trail sign pointing off down the cornfield and greener pastures, yeah right. Now remember how I said he didn't have much flour, well the hare was crafty enough to remember that these were originally paper chases and started leaving scent with the flour bag through some wonderful flesh ripping shiggy. After surviving the flesh ripping shiggy and a nice wooded area, why can't there be more nice wooded area, it was back off into another f*(&ing cornfield. At this point I started breaking stalks down to keep everyone on trail. Finally out of this cornfield and through another dead fall, and over the river and through the woods to grandmothe..... the second beer check. At this point we were tired of the shitty trail, so I tackled the hare, and Kock Koozy beat him up. Unfortunately all this did was excite the hare. While we waited for the rest of the pack to show up, we consumed some water and beer, the cramps in my calves started to subside and I was feeling better about the trail. I guess I was getting a little delusional. After a few minutes we could hear the rest of the pack working their way through the previously mentioned field of corn. They broke into the field the beer check was in sight and proceeded directly to the beer check, they must have been blinded by their thirst. Finally the pack was gathered and we had almost doubled in size, fantastic. The best part is we had 2 virgins, and they were women, damn, I hate when that happens. After bidding the hare to fuck off again, we promptly serenaded our virgins with an allouette. They didn't seem to mind, hmmmm. Of course they were wearing sandals, and one was in a sundress, so it can only be assumed that they will be true hashers and earn themselves proud hash names, when the time is right. After a few more songs, the pack was off again.

I won't bore with the rest of the trail, it goes pretty much the same as the first two parts of the trail, with the exception of a lot more wild roses, and poison ivy. Trail ended at the swimming hole at the end of the road.

Awards were given for the usual suspects, with the addition of wearing sandals, sundresses, alergic reactions, shortcutting, etc, etc, etc.....

The hashit was awarded to the hare for such a wonderful trail.

Things to bring next year, long pants, long shirt, neoprene socks, and a machete. That ought to cover it.

I don't know if anyone else has this problem, but I got nailed with a severe case of poison ivy.

Until next time onitchingandscratchingon,

Scribed to you on this day by yours truly, and remember don't let the truth get in the way of a good story.

Dirtbag

On-On!

If you have anything to add, send a note to pf@hmhhh.com.


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