Flatlander wankers,

For those of you who didn't show up, or showed up for trail but skipped
out before down-downs, or showed up late, locking your keys in your car,
skipped trail and showed up for down-downs, here's a recap of this
year's 4th Annual Tuwkey Twat festivities.

The pack gathered near the Gart Bros Sporting Goods store on 28th, just
south of Iris/Diagonal in Boulder.  The hares showed up on hash time,
with hoses in hand.  They downed a couple McDonald's burgers, donned new
shoes purchased 10 minutes prior, and took off toward the southeast. 
The trail was marked in a combination of chalk and cracked corn, the
latter at the suggestion of Shut The Fuck Up from Kansas.  He should
have, for the corn proved marginal at best.  The chalk was followable,
as it had been at the previous hash, but was also far from ideal.  The
current thinking is that the hares will use colored flour until someone
complains.  In any case, the trail continued toward Piggy's pad, but
fearing a major delay, the hares circled around it in favor of a
CB/ditch system and an obligatory railroad track section.  The trail
visited the finish from the previous hash, then turned sharply north,
where a map led the pack back to 30th and Diagonal.  Reports suggest
they were thrilled with this development.  Chalk led from there north,
roughly along the Wonderland Greenway Trail, then eastward through a
maze of long bad trails toward the north end of the Pleasantview Soccer
complex.  Shortcuts were made, with mixed results, including a Two Holes
miring, and eventually the route was discovered leading to a CB to map
to beer check.  Beer Check #1 featured no beer, but plenty of
Blowsis-style Buttershotted Hot Chocolate.  The sun began to drop, and
cold ensued, as it is want to this time of year.  The hares bolted
southward in a reprise of last year's brilliant effort, with a
Discus-led YBF leading toward last year's icy finish and Deep's true
trail sticking to an access road along the RR tracks.  True trail
crossed Indepence Rd, then a prairie dog community, intended as a delay
to the 6 someodd canines on trail.  It then lingered around UCAR,
looking for Nat (unnamed)'s office, and, possibly, Nat (unnamed), with
no success.  Poor Nat (unnamed) has suffered through some of the less
kindly trails the Flatlanders have laid, and his abundant thirst seems
to have sought purchase in some more sedentary activity this time
around.  The path continued on without him toward the RR track
underpass, where it stuck to very high ground and steep angles on its
way to the second beer check.  Beer Check #2 also featured no beer,
favoring Hot Spiced Rum Cider instead.  Most of the pack gathered at
this point to watch the sun dip below the horizon, and a deep chill
ensued.  Thought was given to our walkers, Cummy and Freudian, but the
hares pressed on, through the tunnel underneath Foothills and eastward
through the local neighborhood.  Then the trail turned abruptly
northward back toward UCAR, then eastward to a CB to the inevitable
ditch crossing and finish on the beach by the airport where we finished
last year.  This time around, the hares provided a somewhat less
makeshift bridge in the form of 2 2x4s for Cock Gobbler, who is
ditch-crossing impaired.  Cum Silent parlayed Bush Router's tip
regarding Discus' green truck with "maybe, er, Arizona plates?" sitting
at the end of the earlier YBF into a quick finish, whereas Bush Router
seemingly did not.  Everyone was relieved to see Blowsis and his busted
knee arrive to test the rugged crossing with a keg of beer in hand, but
after a quick shuttle, the pack mutineed and sent down-downs back to
Hash House I.  It seems to be that time of year.

Down-downs ensued, minus a handful of wankers who seemingly prefer
r*nning to dr*nking... wait, DRINKING... as they are want to.  As usual,
Pukahontas turned up just in time to get totally fucking hammered. 
Songs were sung (or screamed angrily, in Deep's case), and an assortment
of frosty beverages were put away.  We floated a pony keg (a
post-mongolloid keg, for those who were in my garage Friday night). 
There were no namings, but we seem to have gotten Cum Titty lubricated
enough that she agreed to live hare with the JZA himself, Jizz Whiz. 
Good luck with that.  There was an attempted renaming of Discus
Miniscus, but that was just a setup to get Linda (unnamed) down-downing
a hand-crafted ale, much to her chagrin.  The Hash Mismanagement had
hoped to reconsider TSP's unfortunate and premature naming, but TSP's
beerlust proved inadequate, as he failed to arrive at Hash House I at
all.  Blowsis blew us off in favor of a non-date, though we were at his
damned house.  Despite these setbacks, down-downs were completed
satisfactorily, as far as I can recall.

On-afters continued at Hash House I, with the usual pocket pool and
pizza.

Next hash is a week from Saturday, to be hared by Jizz Whiz and Cum
Titty.

On-on,
Deep