Grab your mug of coffee,some aspirins and find a comfortable chair...
Huddled masses of hashers gathered in the crummy, janky,water pit laden parking lot on Indy's picturesque west side. We signed in and admired the cash drawer that Dumb Cumster stole from a local Walmart. She has her eye on on the bar code scanning gun and I am sure we will be using credit cards by Prom.
Spirits were high as it was Screw Year's Eve and the forecast was projected to be 50 and partly sunny. It was fuggin' 35 and wet and cold. Bloomingfool hashers ran their own hash in the morning and lamented how much colder it was here. We welcomed Jizz Hands on his 25th Indy hash and he evil cohorts, Where's The Beef Curtain,and Weird Al Spankabitch. (There was one other swarthy looking fella who came with them but his hash name eludes me and I apologize to this nomad for this. No racial. I am Croatian and I can say things like this.
Chalk talk was improvised as the standing water would suck up any flour or chalk. We did a rousting round of Father Abraham led by PDitz to give our extremities and the males' dangling participles some blood flow.
Gutter Balls and I Got Skillz led the pack of antsy revelers through rusty razor wired fencing and onto Jewbacca's favorite train tracks. We all slid down a muddy graveled hill onto pavement. That shit seemed to last forever until the entire pack of thirsty hashers ran past the check and had to turn around onto true trail which led directly down a steep decline of boulders and under a bridge of BN. No party hats or favors but our prize was love in a bottle; Boone's Farm in an assortment of jolly flavors for the most discriminating hasher. CamoTow poured a nice round of orange fizzy Kool-aide for his bride and new mother, Jacoochie. It was their first hash since she gave birth to her 2nd grader only weeks ago. She proudly announced she can now fit back into her jeans which impressed the women in the group. I have successfully grown out of my jeans but no one seemed to care. The beer selection was Young Lung imported from Pennsylvania. Snacks included the
usual orange Styrofoam poofs and rumors of other snacks but we didn't see them. All empties were carried out in recycled bags as Gutter Balls is very eco-conscious.
AS the runners left, visiting Hillbilly hasher, Riding Miss Daisy and Money $hot fashioned a bridge out of pallets for pussy hashers laid over about 4 inches of ice water. Trail led us through the woods and a homeless camp community. One ingenious home had a back porch with salvaged windows surrounded by plastic. Then to our dismay, straight line running along the river bank until we hit...THE SHIGGY. Dense thick tangled barbs of vine and young saplings of honeysuckle made it nearly impossible to penetrate. Best in Blow and her canine, Belle led the way. Sexy Stink Fingers pointed out my ripped ass after I fell and hurt my delicate body. 1 Guy 5 Cups murmured he was glad it wasn't summer or we would not get through. I found a full tube of Crest Gel toothpaste with tiny perforations from some rodent's razor sharp teeth. I quickly laid an arrow in mint green for those behind me.
A few wanks found their way out of the shiggy and onto railroad tracks again. This led us to pavement and MORE pavement running and to our 2nd and final BN,the Harding St. Pub and Grub. The front running bastards had already drank 5 buckets of assorted icy cold beers and munched on the only 2 tiny cardboard baskets of fries available for miles. By the time the DFLs got there,only salt shards remained.The pub is a small quaint smoke filled room with tables and a pool table directly in front of the bathroom doors. I know the women's restroom had NO paper towels and I can't be sure but I think I saw Dumb Cumster and Nekkid Ninja drying their hands on the filthy green felt of the pool table's top.
This last beer check lasted for an hour and it was decided to just do circle in the parking lot while hashers were lit and witty.
Circle was feisty.
The hares knelt in circle with their vessels in front of them and before they could do their down-down for a shitty trail, donations were called out. This is when our new GM, CamoTow pulled out a 4 oz plastic baby bottle of tepid BREAST MILK. Jacoochie apparently milked her ample udders earlier. EEgad man, Milk and beer do curdle!! Amidst gasps of horror, the hares sucked down the fluid and spilled much,much more.
The first crime was called out to Just Aaron, who on his 3rd hash, thought we half wits could not possibly notice his racist clothing and headband with logos WORN INSIDE OUT. We can read backwards and inside out, fella. Just Cara drank for wearing Breast Cancer awareness pink in Dec. She looked like a bottle of PeptoBismol.
Virgins Just Jerry and his 9 year old version of Load Warrior, BIG D, ambled into circle and drank for cuming on this date. Just Josh mistakenly told us his boots were new when they were actually purchased in high school. He and Dude, Who the Fuck are You? sipped beer cocktails from their booties.
Songs were heartily sang and circle closed.Swing Low was chanted as SBD and I did our famous pelvic bumps. We had to return to our cars about a half mile away from the bar. A few of us caught a ride in a pick up with Jewbacca and Lady Closet Fag and Dude took a flying leap in the back bed while we were at a stop light.
We all arrived at our vehicles eventually and half minds left to shower and doll up for the REAL New Year's Eves celebrations!