Annual General Meeting

May 8-11, 1998

Ah my pesky little friends, the 1998 Annual General Meeting is now over. As in the past, we have successfully bonded with each other for at least another year. Of course some of us had better bonding that others those fateful nights...gotta love hotel-sex! Yes, it is a joyous time, the Annual General Meeting, because isolated from the rest of society (especially this year in the eerie little town of Gaithersburg) we have a chance to really get to know our Hashing compadres. How else we would have learned that No Class once had a big-ole hickey on her left boob as she went in for a high-school physical! (In an unofficial, un-scientific, pretty-darn drunk survey by the hash pollster HardDrive, 4 out of 12 Hasheretttes surveyed reported boob-hickeys: NoClass, HotLegs, Milk Money, 7Minutes. Cunning Runt cried that this was an unfair survey as she doesn't have boobs, just nipples, and 7 Minutes one-upped everyone by also mentioning an inner-thigh hickey.) But I am getting ahead.... wow that was good. Now on with our story. The weekend began with a mutated Pub-crawl. At least one restaurant/bar refused to let the Hash group in to partake of their wares because they were a "Family" establishment. Another venue offered some of the neighboring locals a free meal to make-up for the "rowdy" behavior of our clan. And one rogue actually stole a special "Beer Mug" from one drinking establishment. It is good to hear that we aren't that old after all.

For most of us however, the weekend trials and tribulations began with the Hotel Hell registration. Yep, things here in Gaithersburg move a-heck-of-a-lot slower than in the rest of the world. Particularly amusing was the quick education many of us undertook on how to use the room key - right QuickDrawers. QD was doubly blessed for as he stood in the room registration line for many minutes, a local babe with stories of how her air conditioner didn't work, how her toilet wouldn't flush, no shower etc., serenaded him. Even with all this going for him, he still couldn't get her to sleep over. Damn! Another telling indication of our accommodations was that Physical Terrorist and Slot Machine, who just arrived from a festive time in a New Orleans flea-bag dive, would not stay one night in this hotel. I think that sums things up quite nicely.

After the room registration line, the AGM registration was a snap. Perhaps the

OLD Mis-Management wasn't so stupid after all. Wait, what am I saying? Either

way, the giveaway this year was a way-cool bag that you could fashionably update with your moniker-using a magic marker and a stencil.... if you could spell your name-eh ThreeXsALady?

Slowly but surely the hashers streamed in and soon the Hash-patality suite stunk-up the place, our signal to head off to trail. Piling into mini-vans (which according to HardDrive and RotoRouter, don't really exist) the hash was transported to a local community college. Fearing the campus federalies, the hash was relocated to the parking lot of the infamous testing laboratory where the bloody glove was DNA analyzed. (The OJ story will never die as long as I can scribe!). Alas, the relocation was not a smooth affair as some yokel got into an accident and blocked-off traffic. At first, heinous hash behavior was observed - actual athletic-like stretching (MudBuns, DirtyHairy, RoadMap, CheapSlut). This was quickly curtailed and more appropriate behavior such as Hasher Hurtles was begun. Our own BurntSox, in a superb demonstration of his athletic prowess sequentially hurdled, LickItOffBaby (who got the biggest smiles on her face as BS strode over her), Hard Drive, RotoRouter, and some other nameless blob. The novelty soon wore off of this adventure and well, lets face it, MVH3 ain't no singing group, so we whiled away the time with gossip and innuendo.

Eventually the hares (MissingLink, YesDear & Bullwinkle, and French Toasted) were off. Byte led us in his final `Ather Abraham and the walking began. QuickDrawers quickly took the lead, behind SlickSlit and Beazer, only to head off onto a BT. A bad sign for QD who never did come-up with a good shortcut the entire day. The trail led off to the left where Stained Sheets and Physical Terrorist were spotted as FRBs, momentarily. As the pack rushed past they shouted words of, er, encouragement. The trail wound through some woods, eventually dumping us out into a huge field. Luckily, the walkers were in front and leading the way back into the woods on the other side of the field. Unaccustomed to FRB status, the heady walkers (NoClass, RutRo, HotLegs and SweetCheeks) panicked and calls of ONON were heard from several directions at once. It was good having the pack meeting sort of back-to front like this. You get to heckle folks you just don't normally see. From here, the trail wandered about, a little bit of road here, some mud, muck and mire there. This allowed one of the newer additions to our Hashing family (Bret - named this day as Steamer's Bitch) to show his true colors. At each check, he would follow Dr. Jekyll (claiming DJ had good hash-sense) instead of checking the other directions. He even refused to go back and mark BT’s when they were painfully discovered. Yes, he paid dearly for this nasty behavior.

Finally, we arrived at the beer/water stop manned by none-other than Byte himself. This is where many began to question the mental stability of Burnt Sox who asked, how far Byte was ahead of the pack . It took a number of us to convince BS that BL was not running trail today!

The rest-stop was short lived as QuickDrawers headed back out on trail. In a BlankCheck-like move, Dr Jekyll and CunningRunt slowed their pace till QD was right next to a huge, reeking puddle of "water" and then stomped through it providing QD with a "golden shower". Yep, he was not happy.

Trail then looped back into the woods and a log/stream crossing. The log was so big that even Cap'n Titanic crossed without whining. Twas a slippery mud-filled trail that wound back and forth eventually forcing you to climb a giant mound of mud. Jeff (probably better known as Spread Sheets' man-servant) got three-quarters of the way up this obstacle before losing it all. With his toes firmly planted in the mud,and his hands caressing the mud in front, he gently slid back down the hill creating two giant ruts for the rest of the pack to negotiate. From here, trail was a jaunt through some quiet neighborhoods and a tricky stream crossing. It seems BurntSox was leading the way at this point and dramatically slowed his pace as he attempted to scale the muddy stream bank. This led Bret to pull-up short - he claimed he wasn't ready to "meet" BurntSox quite yet - which in turn created a domino effect eventually resulting in a bath for one unfortunate hasher. Trail continued on through a dank, oily, muddy rice paddy and then up, up, up. Finally, we passed Hotel Hell where the neophytes headed to the parking lot thinking they were done. Not! A long-assed downhill and a car-dodging romp carried us to some tents and BEER!

The DownDown provided another great opportunity to learn about the personal lives of all. For example, the Hash now knows that Scoop likes to paint her toenails (which several women remarked are perfect) while on the toilet. (Who loves ya baby?) Even scarier (and proving that old people are important resources who should not be left to wander off and die in the woods on some odd Hash trail) was that SpinalTap knew and could "tastefully" describe what Beer Butt Chugging involved. No one had the balls/ovaries to ask Pussy Whipped exactly how this is accomplished lest he actually demonstrate. And so, under the watchful eye of the `Elder Lodge Member' who was hosting this shindig, the partying went forward. Eventually a critical mass was reached and the circle was started. Of course the Hares drank for a shiggy run. Then, the one naming for the day (Bret) was brought forward and planted, butt-naked, onto an ice bag. Nevermind that we don't usually do namings until near the end of the circle and that there were going to be lots of violations, returnees, virgins etc. The rumor was that Steamer was getting even for having to do 400 push-ups on Bret's birthday! Bad Steamer. Nasty Steamer. From here things went downhill fast. Byte and Steamer shared an ice bag for quite some time while Wide-Open regaled us stories of why these two were such outstanding HashMasters and then presented them with an awesome photo of a Hasherette offering some milk. Next the new RA (CunningRunt) deposited her sweet patottie on the ice and actually drank ouut of the chicken...yecht. Th alternative scribes were suitably honored with a down-down and a bottle of some foul smelling liquor-like thing. Most pawned them off on Bret who was still sitting on the ice bag!

At last, the introductions of the new Mis-Management were complete and we shifted gears to honor those unfortunates who did something more stupid than just showing up: THE VIOLATORS. They included, but are not limited to, Capt'n Titanic (actually did a water crossing!), Fire&Ice (shook ToreAss's log for him), BlankCheck (posing as a crossing guard in the middle of Rte 355),

3Xs-a-Lady (body slamming himself on trail), Kimo (bleeding), BurntSox (stealing a big-wheel toy, not the entire thing, just the big wheel), Bret (lack of Hash etiquette and general stupidity), CheapSlut-MudBuns-RoadMap-DirtyHairy (stretching), Squiggly Diddly & KeylessEntry (one-year anniversary as a

couple..ahhhhh, choke, gag), BlackBox (stepping on a bird fetus causing it to burst), *69 & NurseCrotchet (singing the theme to the `The Sound Of Music' while wading through a stream) and LooseSeal (environmental).

At last, a naming. Bret was chipped from the ice bag and the naming began. Steamer tried to dictate a name (MudMuffin) but he was over-ruled by the crowd who favored- Steamer's Bitch. (The new Joint Matress, DualAirBags, informed us that after Steamer and his bitch break-up, SB will be known as

`SumBitch'.) MudBuns and Dirty Hairy were regaled for having birthdays after which Cunning Runt led us in `SwingLow'. The crowd quietly dispersed for showers, warmth, sex, and perhaps some food...not necessarily in that order.

Some hours later, happy, smiling, faces arrived back at the Lodge for food, drink, and merriment. The dancing began right away with the usual –Stained Sheets cutting the rug big-time. But lo and behold, WideOpen and Pudnocker were making time out there too. However, the highlight of the night was the

Impropmtu ButtHoleGolfTournament arranged by CunningRunt and Dual AirBags. It was a dance floor clearing event, until the quarter got stuck in Roto's butt. You will definitely see this pastime again! (With a new quarter!)

HangOver Run

Having slept like a baby through the night and expecting a nice quickie HangOver run, the pack was anxioius and a tad rowdy. With DualAirBags leading the `Ather Abraham', the pack, still heady from icing Steamer's Bitch the night before, coined a new warm-up phrase - `Ice da Bitch'. No longer will we hear `Byte's a Ho'! Yahoo - at least according to Byte. The five hares were off in a flash: (MissingLink, FullMetalBalls, Cunning Runt, WideOpen and BurntSox). Of course these are some of the fastest hares in our little family -and they prelaid!

Steamer'sBitch obviously learned a thing or two from the night before because as the pack took off, he jumped right out in front, checking left and right (mostly because he was on BTs) while Byte just motored along laughing. It was a LONG trail that overlapped Saturday''s trail in several places.

This greatly confused the pack and amused the hares. But in the end (which is where we all felt we had gotten it by the time we had finished) all was forgiven and the hares, drank and drank and drank.

Despite our semi-drunken stupor, there were some folks awake enough to commit violations during this run: WideOpen (setting puke checks on the trail); Steamer (taking his shoes off to cross a stream); HawaiianPuke (poor imitation of BlankCheck fasions); Kimo (wanting a more politcally correct name); Byte (not wearing underwear - DONT GO THERE) and Steamer'sBitch (being a new FRB).

We also desperately tried to get DrinksOnMeBud to sing his title song `Joe'. He responded with a weak verse. Next time!

Yes there were anniversaries but in an attempt to make the new scribe look bad, someone walked off with the notes. So, that ends my tail. Till next time.....

Remember to rat on your friends before they rat on you!

Dr. Jekyll