Saturday's hash was an emotional, yet liberating day for some hashers. Once again
MVH3 found itself running near what has become our pagan shrine to indecency and
debauchery, Lorton Prison. As hasher's paid homage to fellow brethren still interned,
Pudknocker and Missing Link laid a trail near enough to the prison walls for Byte
Lightning to wax reminiscent about "the good ole' days" when he was not just the hash
ho' but somebody's bitch too. Stained Sheets was also moved by his own memories of a
recent Bastille Day hash when it was declared by the unanimous vote of fellow
prisoners that he truly does have the "purtiest mouth." On that same day Harddrive
was given the renowned Ned Beatty Award for best piggy squeal. Ahh, yes, my fellow
hashers, it was a day when memories were relived and old friendships rekindled.
The FRBs were already off on a BT not two minutes into this trail. We quickly crossed
Silverbrook into a housing development which due to the size of the houses might be
renamed Goldbrook. The sleepy neighborhood dwellers were clueless as to the
raggedy, band of hashers in their midst. This was a good thing because Hard Drive
ripped down the giant seven-foot, grinning pink stork sign from the front yard of the
house of two breeders who annoyingly broadcasted the birth of another oxygen
consumer. Like hasty pudding, we soon found ourselves running towards a lake.
What do you think we saw, my feckless, tennis-shoe festooned band of idiots , once we
got to the bank? That's right an asphalt bike path around the lake shore! Very original!!
And what should hashers do when confronted with this scenario? That's right my
pointy headed wonders, run around the lake and look for beaver!! Beaver, did
someone say beaver, I'll have some of that !! We had a hard time getting Steamer out of
the beaver preserve, go figure. OK, so there we are running along a lake shore, over
hither and yonder, over hill and dale, when will this be over. Spread Sheets and Rutro
were back admiring the Flora and Fauna, while Cunning Runt was rumored to have
been in these parts earlier. Finally, Oh joy, trail lead us into another housing
development (or the far side of the one we started in) and by some lucky short-cutting
on my part, I wound up in front of French Toasted and Dr. Strangelove, who clearly
were fatigued by the excessive heat of the day. Across Silverbrook again, trail
remained true to form, an asphalt road race on bike paths and down streets. Was that
Mudbuns who yelled Beer Far?
See Dick Run was seen crossing through busy traffic into a new construction
development and the smell of Slick's stew pulled us into the On-In (or was that the
smell of the Jack Daniels Beer ; yes Jack Daniels makes beer, go figure!) It wasn't a "Hot
Legs and Wankers Trail" but they all can't be now can they. Oh yes has Full Metal Balls
figured out yet that he went the wrong way around the lake? So much for that shortcutting
bastard.