You know it's going to be a long hash day when your morning starts off with a down-down. At least, that's how it appeared when Poop Deck pulled into the Sangster School parking sporting a six pack of Schmidt's Red (Red what, is what I'd like to know) in one hand, and a rubber chicken (surprise!) in the other. Seems that a certain JM had absconded with the MVH3 hashit last week, and that meant a down-down for your humble scribe. Hmmm, it was so early in the morning that I didn't even realize I had a hat on until Blank Check pointed it out to the assembly. Then another down-down to get the hashit back. Sheesh! I was just starting to feel lonely, when Sticky Buns did a down-down for losing his sunglasses, and Roto Router (for those of you who've only been hashing for six months, Roto used to be a regular hasher at MVH3. Fact is, some folks say he was JM once) did one for new facial hair. So, the rubber chicken got a good workout. The hares pulled up looking agitated and smelling of flour. Lady Bugger was heard to remark, "It's nice to be a virgin again for SOMETHING." Whatever. Lady Bugger was adamant in repeating her warning for the On In-- pee in the pool, and you will turn purple from the dye!

Following a rousing Father Abraham by Pit Stop, conversation ensued about the following day's Annapolis 10-smiler. I always listen intently during the walking phase of the trail, because after we start running the only sign of the FRB's I get to see is their initials in chalk! Anyway, Dr J made reference to some wanker named Jim. Who would ever have thought the good doc would turn into a closet nerd-name user?

We also learned that Heidi, I mean Cunning Runt, won a Cow Bell in a r*ce the previous week. In case you're wondering, this is the same Cunning Runt that just shed her hard cast. Bam! The pack started running, and that was the end of enlightening conversation for this trail...

Crossing over the Fairfax County Parkway, the pack picked up trail east which led around several ballfields. Soon we were On In to the woods, back and forth and between some of the ballfields. I heard some commotion up ahead, and what to my wondering eyes did appear, but none other than Rambo, nonchalantly exhorting Watergate, For Sale Or Rent, and Fat Lady through a patch of shiggy. It looked like a pretty fair shortcut for this crowd, and I give Rambo a lot of credit for not sticking to trail-- especially when it makes life tougher for everyone else!

Trail led into a creek with a steep slope on the other side. Up the slope there was a bridge with a nigh unsolvable check. Heck, Rambo &;Co. Caught up before we were done solving it! We followed trail up the wooded slope for about a hundred yards, coming out eventually into a neighborhood, winding around a couple of blocks, and then between some houses to the first water stop. I could tell Rambo missed the Charlottesville shiggy, because he couldn't help getting in a dig about "asphalt shiggy" as we got near the water stop. With Boob and Wankers Aweigh laying next week's trail, I don't think we'll have to worry about disappointing Rambo anytime soon!

Rambo took off like a shot out of the water stop, and I found myself plodding along with Yes, Dear and the soon to be named Bullwinkle. If you're ever asked, here's one prime reason to hash: we can name dogs better than their owners! Just bring your dog to the hash, run it, and we'll have a name for you before the end of the circle. Bullwinkle is a great hash name, even if you don't know the story or reason behind it! Now, can we rename Yes, Dear to Rocky the Flying Squirrel?!?

[Scribe's note: as I sit writing this, slaving away to get finished in time for the weekend, I have been interrupted by Tore Ass, Fire &;Ice, and Saran Wrap, who are trying to lure me over to the On In with the Harriettes! Shall I go drink icy cold beverage with them, or persist in my noble efforts to provide MVH3 with the best possible trash?]

[The next day. Ran into Spinal Tap autohashing on my way to DCH4. Actually, he wasn't hashing, but helping the effort to find RAS's younger son Colin, who was lost on trail after dark. The happy ending was that we found him at the cop shop.]

Miles of paved trail later, we came upon another water stop, and then Burke Lake. There was a nice steady breeze coming off the lake, and many 'normal' people were out getting in their road work. Interestingly, numerous babes stopped to admire the hashit. I never remember this happening before; it must be the specially ribbed handle that attracts them so!

Before I knew it we were back in the woods on nice unpaved trail, winding around the lake, and eventually to the golf center. Down Canterberry Rd, past some exquisitely landscaped homes, and we were at last On In at Lady Bugger's after setting our watches back two hours. The Bugger's backyard was mostly taken up with a swimming pool, barbecue grill, tables, and of course, hashers.

First thing I did after getting a beer was to try to write my name in urine, hoping the alleged purple dye in the pool would show up. Many other hashers must have already used up all the dye before I got in, because it didn't work.

The Circle

Numerous Anniversaries graced us this day; some were leftovers from the previous week (how the fuck did that happen, and why didn't the JMs do a down-down?), but here goes: Blank Check (255), Byte Lightning (185), Dr Strangelove (165), Topless Skateboarding Nun (155), Cork Screwed (105), Dual Air Bags (91), Lick It Off, Baby!, Burnt Sox, and Fat Lady (75), Wide Open (35), Watergate (5), and Jackie Martin (5).

Virgins were four in number: Robert Cox (easy naming, huh?), Hot Lips, Marjorie Martin, and Beth Cleary. Welcum, one and all!

Returning hashers included the long awaited Roto Router, Family Jewels, For Sale Or Rent, Running Bare, Rick 'Blew-A' Seale, Mike Kearney, and Kim Preston.

Lydia, Oh Lydia,
have you seen Lydia,
Lydia the Tattooed Lady?

This was the next question posed, as we came to our weekly imitation of the Simpsons, The Naming Committee! By all accounts, Lydia moonlights at USDA, but in her free time she still can't help inspecting the meat. We considered Meat Grinder, but settled on Organ Grinder! Yes, Dear's dog was renamed Bullwinkle for the hoarse bellow he emits on trail.

The Rap Sheet

Late Sign Ins: Fire &;Ice, Tore Ass, and LIOB!

Water Bottle Fight, Incest on Trail: Mud Buns, Briar Buns

Gave More Info Than We Really Wanted to Know (I.e., lack of skivvies): Bump 'n Gump

Racing: Poop Deck &;Pit Stop

Lack of Cow Bell: Cunning Runt

Nerd Name Usage: Cunning Runt, Dr J

Birthday: Sweet Cheeks

Not Doing the Anniversaries Last Week : Burnt Sox

Tattle Tale: Blank Check

No Cups and Sodas: The Hares

Don't forget the upcumming Red Dress Run on September 14th! Special time, special price, special fun!

My Work Here Is Done. You know it's going to be a long hash day when your morning starts off with a down-down. At least, that's how it appeared when Poop Deck pulled into the Sangster School parking sporting a six pack of Schmidt's Red (Red what, is what I'd like to know) in one hand, and a rubber chicken (surprise!) in the other. Seems that a certain JM had absconded with the MVH3 hashit last week, and that meant a down-down for your humble scribe. Hmmm, it was so early in the morning that I didn't even realize I had a hat on until Blank Check pointed it out to the assembly. Then another down-down to get the hashit back. Sheesh! I was just starting to feel lonely, when Sticky Buns did a down-down for losing his sunglasses, and Roto Router (for those of you who've only been hashing for six months, Roto used to be a regular hasher at MVH3. Fact is, some folks say he was JM once) did one for new facial hair. So, the rubber chicken got a good workout. The hares pulled up looking agitated and smelling of flour. Lady Bugger was heard to remark, "It's nice to be a virgin again for SOMETHING." Whatever. Lady Bugger was adamant in repeating her warning for the On In-- pee in the pool, and you will turn purple from the dye!