The Tail of #571

Well what a wonderful Thursday Hashing Day it was. Nineteen IEH3 hounds gathered at Mike’s Welcome Tavern in the Valley for the 571st trail. We were blessed with Virgin Sully (yell, if the spelling is wrong) and transplant Ookie Smokey NO Poky (the same applies if I got your spelling wrong). You will need to ask her about her hashing tree, because it sounds more like a bush.

Scratch was missing for some lame excuse about loosing her a toe nail. Shit don’t you have nine good ones? Any who – hope she recovers well so we can see her smiling face and have her song knowledge soon.

As the dust clouds came and large drops of rain fell, Everhard ventured out to lay a splendid trail. Oh, did you know that Mike’s was just a four lane avenue away from DISHMAN HILLS. Oh Yeah SHIGGGGGGY BABBIEEEEE! So with some nicely marked arrows we ventured to the Shig. Spooner Boy and his ankle brace along with Beaver and his aging knee were, OVERJOYED! But as hashers they strived for the beer. Unlike you NO-SHOWS that want email updates!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (We have 80 on the list and only 21 show????????)

White marks were found after a count-back five and some hill work. Up and Down as the trail progressed which all ½ minds wish they could experience more often, but this was a Dishman trail. So it was vegetation, rocks, and that sweet smell of stagnate water that awaited. After a mini stop at the Hash Hold we were off to climb some more. A skip here, slip there, and an AH SHIT brought us to the Beer Stop venue. Ahhhhh what a view and it was nice to have an iced beer and orange grub.

Tale Tails were told and hounds hid their treasures as the pack ventured down. Except Legal Bondage who seemed to want to give away her Tong footwear? Crap did she actually pry it away from a severed foot? With no takers it worked as a nice Sunshade.

Uncle Pervey found his mother’s douche some where on trail. But with flowers in his hair, we wondered if he had a mother or actually was just deposited by a Meteor as he claimed foot size does not proportionately resemble a “Fireman”.

Boner showed up with a collector SPAM can which Sweaty Peti tested for authenticity. Yep, it was aged. So with all gathered, the Beast Maserbator conducted the Circle. Oh, he so loves being pulled back in as RA. Down Downs were swallowed, our limited song selection was sung and we enjoyed suds in the SUN, finally.

So known as true and scribed by
Trancid Nuts.