Hashers,

It's been a while, but I seem to remember we conducted a hash in Boulder
about a month ago.  And we didn't even get busted for powdering a
pharmaceutical company.

The pack gathered at Crossroads Mall, a popular gathering place for all
sorts of flour-tossing deviants.  Instead of leading us on a romp
through the eastern lowlands of Boulder, which would surely have drawn
the ire of the local constabulary, our hapless hares, Shit and
Chacockqua, elected to drag the pack through the heart of downtown,
where great gobs of the white stuff drew no obvious objection.  The
trail followed the classic route along the north edge of the CU campus,
flirting here and there with Boulder Creek most of the way across town. 
The Beav and Two Holes ate up trail most impressively, and deciphered a
series of bridge crossings which eventually gave way to a CB
300-someodd.  While they were giving chase to the hares, forcing Shit to
dump explosively, the rest of the pack sought out any sort of shortcut
to avoid retracing the obscene CB, but eventually gave up and
backtracked to a beer check atop what must surely be the tallest parking
garage in Boulder.  Babies changed and swill swilled, the lone active
hare set off on a mostly straight bolt for the finish.  Though he was
betrayed by several passers-by, his ropey muscles powered him to glory,
while the drunk and surly hounds reluctantly made their way toward
Columbine School just north of Valmont, and the conclusion of this
Summer's Equinox romp.

Down-downs ensued several hours after the roasting of Not Dogs and
consumption of sandwich cookies designed "For Maximum Value".  Virgins
were toasted, probably never to return, and beverages were consumed. 
There was one naming to note.  The hopeless workaholic former referred
to as Bruce (unnamed) will now answer to Spermes.

On-on,
Deep