This time around, though, we had a lot of absent Innerhashers and a lot of new and long-absent faces. POOP DECK, NO GENITALS& Virgin Hare ORAL-GINA milled around the parking lot until 10,when they took off in three different directions, leaving a check in the parking lot. BURNT SOX, who once upon a time hashed at least once a month, gave chalk talk to six virgins,and then BYTE LIGHTNING led the pack in the Hokey-Pokey version of Father Abraham. And then we were off . . . Following trail left by POOP DECK! I strolled toward the Arlington Courthouse with Dr. Jekyll and Milk Money, following Hash around a corner, excited that I might actually be on trail. But I was with Jekyll, and when was the last time he was on trail?! He sprinted on ahead to a BT, we turned and headed back to the start, and then we were off . . .
Following the trail of NO GENITALS! Milk Money and I ran toward Lee Highway, chatting about her latest marathon endeavor. Do you realize that she's already run the Marine Corps twice and she's only fifteen years old? I pulled away from her and caught up with some idiots on trail ahead of me, who had just found a... BT. We turned, and headed back to the start. And then we were off . . .
Following trail laid by ORAL-GINA, which is not a bad way for a trail to be, in my opinion. But anyway, this seemed to be a true trail. CUNNING RUNT zipped by, as did TICK COCK in his Fool Hat. As we ran in a somewhat organized pack, some kids watched us from their balconies and yelled, "Run, Forrest, Run." BUMP & GUMP, flattered, ran on. And on, and on, and on-on,until the infamous 8-way check. This check will go into MVH3 history as the most confusing check of all time. The Hare thought we were following her so she wanted to make it a little difficult, but after that one ... no way. MORE LEGGS went this way, and ASS LICKER that, with me and BYTE running side by side down yet another street, only to find other hashers running toward us. Amidst all this, I kept seeing a curious little man with a notebook walking along with us. Never did find out what he was up to.
Finally, the pack found trail. Unfortunately, WANKERS AWEIGH, BURNING BUSH and I were not with the pack when they found flour,and I uttered those famous words heard around the world every Hashday: "I think I know a shortcut." Suffice it to say that by the time we caught up with RED SNAPPER, CHU MI and SLIP KNOT, we were victims of yet another patented BURNT SOX shortcut- lostand last.
I still don't understand this one, but we followed trail across I-66 to a check that was marked left and right, with a BT straight ahead. We ran left, then right, and found no trail, so we concluded that we should continue running right. After a good mile or so on the Martha Custis bike trail without a flake of flour, I confessed to BURNING BUSH that I knew where we were going and that if we didn't find trail soon I was running straight there. At Lee Highway, I gave up and we headed for home. (Only later did I find out that if I had crossed the street, I would have been back on trail, and then maybe I could write something about what the other forty of you did.) In a matter of minutes BUSH and I reached the On-In-- from the wrong direction. Picture the looks of shock on the Hares' faces, who were afraid that they had goofed somewhere and would have to go find everyone. A few minutes later, RUNNING BARE, who had started late, came in ... on trail (so he says) and ahead of the pack. About SEVEN MINUTES later, the real pack came in, delayed by shiggy, the Hares speculated. The usual FRBs were wondering who that fast guy was... fast, but kept running in the wrong direction. No matter they all got to the same place, in time for Rolling Rock and weenies. Oh, and there were hot dogs, too.
People are always curious about the Hash. Why, we'd only been communing for a few minutes when a maintenance worker from the building where NO GENITALS (our hostess) lives asked to speak with her. It seems that a voyeur from across the parking lot had called in a complaint on us. Something about STAINED SHEETS taking off his wet hashing shirt. Can't blame her for notifying the authorities. Then the cops came, but luckily we had WENCH GRINDER, an ATF agent in real life, to slip them a twenty so they'd leave us alone.
We spotted our Peeping Ellie--a little white-haired lady on a top floor balcony watching us intently, drooling a little at the sight of our wet and somewhat pasty flesh. We waved at her. She got binoculars. We sang to her. She got her daughter and granddaughter. We mooned her. She came down and had a beer with us.
During festivities, we had to give CORKSCREWED an emergency down-down- he has has left early ever since he got married and we wanted to make sure he still knew how to do one! And then on to hash business for the rest of us. First, to the Hares, POOP DECK, NO GENITALS & ORAL-GINA--I've been told it was a shitty trail. Lots of nifty virgins, namely: COURTNEY, THADDEUS, RAINBLOW, TYDY BOWL, WENCH GRINDER and ORAL-GINA (one Hare drinks...). A frighteningly large number of anniversarians: DR. STRANGELOVE (170), CUNNING RUNT (135), COLDSWEATS (115), BURNT SOX (75), YES DEAR (45), NO GENITALS (15), BUMP & GUMP (15), CAMEL JUMPER (HUMPER?)(5), and FLAT ASS (5). The following didn't have enough sense to stay away: ASSLICKER, RED SNAPPER, COLD SWEATS, BURNT SOX, SEVEN MINUTES, FLATASS, CHAPPAQUICKDICK, MELLOW FORESKIN CHEESE, EAGER BEAVER, TICKCOCK, CORK SCREWED and RUNNING BARE. Geez- no wonder this took a long time. Anyway, BYTE LIGHTNING, the perpetual violator, was cited for New Shoes and Failing to Sign In. Others caught in compromising positions were RUNNING BARE, SLIP KNOT & SEVEN MINUTES (late sign in), NO GENITALS & WENCH GRINDER (calling cops), ROXY (channeling through COLD SWEATS for an environmental).
Announcements: If you're wearing camouflage as you read this, do a stupidity down-down--it's deer season, you wanker! Also,CHAPPAQUICKDICK and MELLOW FORESKIN CHEESE brought tidings of parties.
And it was time to go. The FRBs began an unauthorized Swing Low, and after a whistle check it was time to walk two miles back to our cars. Let's do it again real soon. Key Elementary. 10 a.m. See ya there.
On-on, BURNT SOX (who isn't here today)