Howdy wankers,


Just woke up after sleeping off last night's BFH3 Mr Happy's, and I thought 
I'd try to piece it together for those of you who couldn't be bothered to 
attend.


Friday night featured a return to Flatlander time, as the pack gradually 
assembled in front of Mt Hood's sweet "new" pad.  Mt Hood was on crutches, 
as they'd repaired his hashing bone earlier in the week, but he graciously 
offered the use of a ginormous college rental, complete with a bevy of 
pot-smoking roommates.  14 hashers gathered by hash time, with the 
harriettes unusually well-represented, and straws were drawn.  Sinbad hit 
the jackpot for the 2nd or 3rd time in as many tries, and bolted with the 
first bucket.  Despite Deep's dire warnings, she elected to lay 100m 
powders all over central Boulder, which, as you can imagine, drove a number 
of Flatlanders shortcutting.  Split Enz led a small, well-coordinated group 
of said SCBs in the general direction of the Boulder Creek path and the 
Sinbad-philic water nearby, but to no avail.  The SCBs splintered, with Pod 
and the Beav unluckily blundering on the pack again, while Deep and the 
Achilles-tendon-less Split Enz made their own fortunes and returned to 
Hood's place and the beer within in a timely fashion.  Rumors suggest that 
the rest of the pack wandered back across trail, then out and about, 
hitting such landmarks as Williams Village and the overpass over Foothills 
near Colorado, before Sinbad was finally caught and summarily slain by 
Chacockqua.  The return bucket, carried without complaint by shit-winner 
Chucky, was passed back and forth among a number of hashers before the pack 
finally returned, bedraggled, shrub-clawed and thirsty, to the finish.


Down-downs ensued, and the hares drank.  Lots.  It was determined that 
Chucky was, in the important sense, a hare.  Heinous Anus, a delightful 
visitor from the upstart Durango HHH, demonstrated his name.  Hidden Assets 
unfortunately proved her name as well.  Little Bo Peep Show put on a show 
that Peep Show would have been proud of, and Half-Cocked frolicked to songs 
about gang bangs.  Amy (unnamed) discovered, much to her surprise, that 
Smirnoff malt beverage is alcoholic.  Little Head gave the epicurean's 
thumbs-up to canned Pale Ale from Longmont.  Pig Pimp disproved the theory 
that her more seasoned lingerie had become threadbare.  And Deep was 
subjected to repeated dousings for his usual antics.  All in all, a fine 
circle, and one well-suited to the "one hare drinks, all hares drink" 
mentality of a pickup hash.  We paid our proper respects to our deadbeat 
father hash, the ALH3.


Next hash is the fetish hash, hared by the lovely Cock Gobbler and the 
hirsute Fistful of Wang.  Get your accessories ready.  Anybody know where 
Deep can get a sack full of mannequin feet?  Just, er, curious.


On-on,
Deep