Hashers,

For those of you who weren't even there (apologies to the Denver types
who I didn't get around to approving for the list until this morning),
here's a recap of Saturday's festivities.

The pack gathered in blustery but mostly sunny conditions at the SW
corner of Crossroads Mall.  In a ceremony with origins in pickled eggs,
coffee stirrers were drawn, providing most of the excitement for the
day.  BlowsHis won the shit with the first pick overall, earning him the
right to bear the second bag of flour along the route until such time as
the first expired.  Around the circle, straws came up clean until there
were only two left, with Cum Silent and Deep facing off.  With his
typical sense of timing, or lack thereof, Hood biked up and joined the
fun, but the straw we added for him came up clean.  And so Cum Silent
drew, and was selected the first pickup hare in BFHHH's brief history.

Cum Silent craned his neck back and opened his gullet, as he has so many
times in the past, piercing our eardrums with a shrill warcry, and he
took off to the west.  5 minutes later, the pack was yapping at his
heels, and eventually managed to snare him in the neighborhood between
Arapahoe and Canyon, west of Folsom.  Hood set off on the next leg,
making his 4 minutes count by cheating, and using up the rest of the bag
on a twisting trail toward Student Housing and the CU Campus.  With 3
more minutes and fresh powder, Hood headed up the hill, and down behind
the Field House, then through the building where Swedish Eatballs held
her famous beer check, then out and around toward JILA, and was finally
snagged by Router.  Cummy Pinko complained bitterly about a bout of poor
hounding, and Router bolted southward with 2 minutes on the pack.  A
single 1-and-bad DP marred an otherwise pristine straight section of
trail, derisively labelled "chickenshit" by one lazy hound, who met up
with the rest of the pack at the next snare on the Boulder Creek path,
between Folsom and 28th.  Rob (unnamed), possessing a peculiar talent
for closing on hares over straight trail, took the haring duties next,
using up his one minute head start with a circumnavigation of the
Harvest House, where BlowsHis chased him into Blake (unnamed)'s gaping
jaws.  The latter dropped nary a DP in his 2 minutes, leading the pack
sufficiently close to the start that the majority "shortcut" back to the
vehicles, while BlowsHis did a loop inside the mall, much to the chagrin
of the clerks working there.  Deep, not wanting to be left out of the
Esprit De Hares, snared BlowsHis 20 meters from the vehicles in what was
generally considered a pathetic act of rampant alcoholism.  The pack
regrouped and shuttled to BlowsHis' and GetsNo's for down-downs.

Down-downs ensued.  The hares attempted a cascading down-down to kick
things off, but this proved a miserable failure and too much to handle
for a combined 3 1/2 minds, so they ignored further suggestion from
Freudian Slut.  Highlights included Deep's loving Discus Miniscus
tribute, a block of songs culled from previous down-downs involving the
Phoenix Flatlander.  The hares warred with the non-hares, as at least
half the group was drinking at any one time, killing enormous amounts of
beer, considering we were 14 in total.  Puss drank thricely for the
Homer J Fong, dropping her electrolytes dangerously low.  Staben
(unnamed) learned a new song ("Down Down Down Down").  Cum Silent got
fucked up something royal, at least we think he did, as he was 
speaking sweet nothings (somethings?) in Routers ear, proclaiming Router 
some sort of Hero.  Deep and Cum Silent defied age-old Ghostbusters advice
and crossed streams, while BlowsHis became giddy with voyeurism.  Shit
To Be Thai'd got Shit-faced.  Hood played a little pocket pool, dangling
his namesake in a number of dangerous situations.  Dr D was once again
serenaded with a series of classics dripping with imagery.  Rob
(unnamed) became Bottom Feeder, though still seems to be pondering its
meaning, as he ponders many things.  There were gropings and 
pantsings.  There was foam on the ceiling.  It was a raucous occasion.

Next hash:  Saturday 12/30, 2pm
Hares:  Walk Like an Erection, Blows His Own Horn

On-on,
Deep