Hash Trash!

Because if we wait for deep to do this it will make no sense (him not
being there, my being drunk, and such and such.)  Also as the Half mind
who was perhaps least on trail I feel it my duty to fill in for deep.

Half-Cocked drew the right to Hare and Hood showed up just in time to 
draw the shit.  Some number of halfminds (greater than 10 and less 
then 50...) took off in a cloud of farts following one Half Cocked 
mf.  Much moaning and groaning was made over the lack of powders as 
the pack initially took off to the northeast, only to loop back 
around to the south, possibly including various DPs which I was 
unawares of.  After this stretch of treachery the pack continued to 
yelp along the boulder creek, unfortunately for both the hare and the 
hounds this was on the opposite side of the boulder creek from the 
path and thus it came about that the trail followed much 
shiggeriforous... ummm, stuff.  When the hare found he could take no 
more shiggy and the pack found, well, no beer check (damned 
unthoughtful hare), he went back up to areas of more standard 
transportation.  Finding some train tracks, said hare laid some 
extremely poor trail (sensing the closeness of the hounds) such that 
the hounds should be ever waylaid and foundering along
the tracks wanting only for a train to come and carry them off. 
Eventually Cum Silent, Eager Gets No Beaver, and Mt.Hood came from 
all directions on a hare who had run out of powder.  Confused though 
the half minds were, having seen very little powder and not being 
sure why the said hare had run out so soon, Hood (being the half-mind 
awarded with the shitty act of carrying extra powder to begin with) 
merrily handed off his extra bag of hash.  At this point the hounds 
thoroughly berated the hare for his extremely stingy powdering of the 
trail.  Half-Cocked was also warned that his inappropriate DP 
markings (using standard and thus, non pick-up markings) were, as 
previously mentioned, inappropriate, but this seemed to phase him not 
as the trail continued to feature such non BFHHH-pickup-hash DPs.

Newly equipped, Half-Cocked took off with a mere four minute head 
start and, weaving in and out of industrial plazas and foregoing both 
the lubrication shop and the UPS depot, proceeded to lay a slightly 
better trail then the previous half.  That is until a barking dog, a 
flowing stream, and a dead end left him  at Hood's mercy (and Hood's 
hood knows no mercy).  Though hood was desperaged by the lack of 
powder available to him, he was encouraged by the lack of distance 
between himself and the start/finish.  Hood took over, over fences 
and through new car lots to wind up out of powder at the 
finish/start, a mere 400 yards away from the snare.  The pack slowly 
congregated at the finish until frustration at the lack of 
Puke-a-hontas and Freudian's willingness to appear (sex on trail?) 
led the pack to search for the DFLs so that they could be mocked and 
derided in good form.

That evil trail thing finished, the pack retired to one of many 
business parks near 55th and Pearl and down-down's ensued.  The hares 
were quite happy to have naught but the two of them as they drank for 
being hares, they drank for making a virgin cum, they drank for a 
sermon, they drank with the returners, and they dranks for a pair of 
new shoes which hood was gauche enough to leave the price tag on. 
Songs were sung, beers were drunk, and women who came in to a 
department store to buy some flowers were themselves deflowered... I 
don't work there no more.  Just... I mean "the new girl" and Cum 
Titty, two "other boulder hashers", were aggrandized for their songs 
(largely by Get's No who proceeded to confirm his name's sake).  Jana 
(unnamed) knitted furiously until being accused of adding at least 
six inches to the ball warmer she was working on, at this point she 
drank, making her sponsor and his co-hare join her, again.  When the 
beer ran dry the hashers retired.  There were no namings of note, Go 
in peace.


Hood