EDITOR'S NOTE:  Deep in the End is deep
undercovers investigating Cummy Pinkos on the east
coast, so Hash Trash #15 is brought to you from deep
in the psyche of Freudian Slut.  If the reader finds
any mistakes in my reporting, (s)he is undoubtedly
repressing the truth about the trail due to latent
sexual tension toward a parent.

     As Americans (apparently quite a few hashers
among them) tuned in to view the opening ceremonies of
another set of games, 10 some odd half-minds assembled
at the designated starting line.  Bush Router and
virgin hair(sic) Jizz Whiz took off in an amazingly
prompt cloud of farts at 6:15 (a punctuality record,
if I'm not mistaken).  

     The pack followed, with Two Holes and a Heartbeat
(under the influence of a "performance-enhancing
drink") taking an easy lead.  Two Holes' nose for live
prey served him well, and he sniffed the true trail
correctly on almost every decision point...and there
were many!  One exception was an early DP that lead
the pack across some shiggy.  Upon encountering a bad
trail mark, Two Holes immediately begin shortcutting
to true trail, forcing Puss in Boots and Freudian
Slut, who had been close on his tail, to be martyrs
and run back to mark the decision point.  (Mt. Hood,
we hope you appreciated our sacrifice!)

     In honor of Deep in the End, the trail followed a
railroad track for a short distance and then cut up
into one of Longmont's finer neighborhoods.  The pack
enjoyed views of lovely Victorian homes, and martyrs
Boots and Freudian were able to shortcut the trail's
switchbacks to catch up with Cock Gobbler, Neil
(unnamed), and Jess (unnamed)...hereafter known as
"the pack."  The trail boasted several luxuriously
paved alleys.  Although Two Holes complained that he
was overstimulated by all the canine holes and
heartbeats he encountered, Puss in Boots was heard to
exclaim, "I've spent the better part of my life in
alleys, and these are among the finest I've seen!"

     The pack became alarmed when Two Holes
disappeared into Price Park without so much as wetting
his whistle, but they soon discovered that they were
entering a "No Blow Zone".  It was lucky Blows His Own
Horn was not in attendance, as the pack was asked to
refrain from blowing through both Price and Sunset
Parks.  After this grassy interlude, they continued
their steady progress north, passing close to a high
school football game.  

     The hares later revealed that they began to hear
whistles at this point but convinced themselves that
they were referee whistles.  The pack was inspired by
the Longmont High band's rousing rendition of "The
Star-Spangled Banner" (or was it "God Bless My
Underpants"?) and charged ahead, unaware that they
were a wise shortcut away from a triumphant hare
snare.  

     After a view of Two Holes helped the pack gain
some ground near the lake in Loomiller Park, Cock
Gobbler did, in fact, make a wise shortcut.  Correctly
identifying Chez Jizz Whiz, she walked right up to the
front door, where she saw pretzels and other down-down
supplies.  The hares, meanwhile, were cowering behind
a couch a few feet away, suffering from a rare form of
post-traumatic stress syndrome that causes hares to
panic upon hearing turkey calls, even after trail is
finished.  Cock Gobbler, out of Half-minded
Compassion, decided to move on and seek out trail,
joining Two Holes at the other end of the block, only
to turn back down the alley and finish in Jizz Whiz's
backyard, followed closely by most of the pack.  The
hares, still ghostly white from exertion and fear,
greeted the pack only about 35 minutes after we had
struck out on trail.

    Conspicuously missing from the assembled pack were
Piggy Dongsucking and Amy (unnamed), who came in about
20 minutes later, happily bragging about the
successful shortcuts they'd taken.  The pack, even
better at smelling sex than they are at smelling
hares, understood immediately.  Shortly thereafter,
Mt. Hood arrived.  He confessed that he had been busy
rolling back his foreskin and had arrived at the start
around 7 p.m. but had had only a little trouble
finding trail, thanks to brilliant marking by the
pack, particularly the performance-enhanced Two Holes.

     With the Bastard of Ceremonies absent, Two Holes
agreed to mismanage down-downs.  Bush Router piously
claimed that he could deliver a sermon anytime,
anywhere, but the late arrival of Mt. Hood made a
substitute religious advisor unnecessary.  The opening
ceremonies went quickly.  Piggy, Amy (unnamed), Cock
Gobbler, and Freudian drank for missing not one but
SEVERAL recent hashes.  Although this offense is
inexcusable, Cock Gobbler tried to excuse herself by
arguing that Bush Router hadn't tried hard enough to
make her cum, a complaint which hit home for many of
the harriettes.

     After hashing with the shit-stud award, Neil
(unnamed) promptly lost it at down-downs.  It was
returned without penalty by Bush Router, leading this
harriette to believe that Half-minded Compassion might
be a sexually transmitted disease.  Puss in Boots was
nominated for her usual nudity on trail.  Two Holes
and Amy (unnamed) were each nominated for
inappropriate language on trail or some such
ridiculous offense.  The Hares were nominated for
cowardly behavior.  In the end (not to be confused
with Deep), the award went to Piggy and Amy (unnamed)
for the studliest act of all, sex on trail.  A
drink-off between the studs was won by Piggy, and he
chivalrously awarded the prize to Amy (unnamed). 

     Guerrilla down-downs were raucous and lengthy. 
Puss in Boots and Jess (unnamed) drank several times
for refusing to show the proper respect for down-downs
by standing up.  Gobbler was repeatedly punished for
missing SO MANY hashes, and Bush Router proved that,
while he may not always make her cum, he can sure get
her wet!  As the songs ran out, Two Holes made several
proclamations that "This will be the last nomination,"
only to find his authority flouted again and again,
proving that no one is as much of a Bastard as Cum
Silent.  Finally, Bush Router made the disturbing
suggestion that we begin recycling songs.  Realizing
they'd hit rock bottom, the hash tried a few more
verses of "The S&M Man" and "Yogi" and then called it
quits with "Swing Low."  Jizz Whiz tried to encourage
hashers to stay but couldn't produce the pornography
he promised.  It was discovered that the hares were
the only people too drunk to drive, so the
long-suffering Cock Gobbler was forced to shuttle
hashers back to the start.

     The next hash will be sometime soon (What do I
look like, a Hashmaster?!) and will be hared by the
Cum Silent Cum Deep in the End haring team.
     
On-on,
Freudian