The evening did not begin very auspiciously. While I was travelling on the Better Way to meet Rose Eh and Iced F*cket, Davisville station experienced a "signal malfunction." I was stuck on the subway for the better part of an hour with a bunch of yapping commuters and found myself wishing (for once) that I did in fact have anthrax in my backpack instead of flour. This experience nearly drove me crazy. But since it’s a shorter drive for me that most other people, I took a few deep breaths and relaxed in the knowledge that I’d soon be drinking beer.

After laying trail, Rose Eh, I.F. and I headed to the start location only to find the pack had already started chalk talk. This is what happens when your GM is out of town and you let some visiting R.A. from Oakville run things. This suburban freak was clearly wound way too tight as demonstrated by his need to start a 7pm hash at 7pm sharp. However since he was obviously unaccustomed to life in the big city, we humoured Skewbic Hair and told him he could run the circle anyway.

Being the youngest and least intelligent of the three hares, I had stupidly volunteered to set all of the "difficult" falses. One such false took me across a river on a log that initially looked quite stable. Experience proved quite the opposite and my co-hares took great pleasure in placing bets on how far I’d make it before falling in. (Due to the resulting trauma, I cannot adequately describe "the log incident." I’m relying on my co-hares to fill in any details that I have mentally blocked out.) Fortunately my suffering paid off and one FRB (whose name begins with "cum" and ends with "on") foolishly took the bait.

Shortly after his encounter with the log, Cumcussion began to whine that he had seen three marks before the false. Apparently this wasn’t fair because Rose Eh had assured him at the start that the "three and you’re on" rule applied to this trail. Now Cumcussion is no spring chicken and should know better that to believe everything a female tells him. Cumcussion – for future reference: Women sometimes lie. Harriettes are even worse because they lie all the time.

And speaking of falsehoods… As Iced F*cket once explained to me in a Pittsburgh Park ‘n Eat ¹ – in Life, there are three great lies. According to our wise Trailmaster, they are the following:

1. I love you.
2. The check is in the mail.
3. I promise I won’t cum in your mouth.

Cumcussion – it seem there are three different lies that apply specifically to you:

1. I love the food at McDonald’s.
2. Three and you’re on.
3. I promise I won’t drink any Framboise beer.

The BC was set at I.F.’s place. I was the first hare to arrive and found the pack had already ransacked I.F.’s house in search of beer, without the desired result. They even checked inside the BBQ, since this would have been an ideal place for us to store several cases of beer on a very hot day. After retrieving the hidden brew, I led the pack to the yard next door. Here we met Adam, who had somehow been conned into allowing a bunch of sweaty hashers to use his pool.

Some wankers swam. Others sat in lawn chairs. Sex Toy swung in a hammock and Rose Eh used natural means to clear open spaces (in Dapper’s absence).

I.F. was the last to arrive (as he had been sweeping the trail). Always mindful of social etiquette, Dead End decided that this would be the perfect time to introduce Iced F*cket to his own neighbour.

Finally Skewbic circled up the pack and passed out the following down downs:

Iced F*cket, Rose Eh and H2Ho – for laying a crappy trail
Lise – for being a new boot
Joy Stick and Handjob – for cumming late from Oakville
Cumcussion – for crossing the log and trusting women
Sweet Cheeks – for blowing his own horn
Mrs. Robinson – for not wanting to park her car next to the commoners
Shampoo – for complaining that he was tired
Iced F*cket – for hiding the BC beer too well and for leaving his house vulnerable to penetration (after all, Dead End managed to get in)
Adam – for allowing wankers to pollute his pool
Easy Bush – for urinating in her lounge chair and for marking trail
Handjob – for urinating on trail
H2Ho – for taking off clothing without showing everyone else
Joy Stick – for squealing on Handjob
Rose Eh – for flatulating ² in the circle and for sending DFLs in the wrong direction
Skewbic Hair – for doing such a crappy job as R.A.

The entire pack then drank a communal down down in honour of Gispert’s Birthday and Skewbic led us in the singing of "Swing Low" (insisting that everyone fully participate with all of the appropriate hand gestures). This placed Shampoo in a difficult position. He immediately asked Skewbic what he should do with his dick since he needed to have both hands free to sing the song. Always the problem solver, Skewbic suggested that Shampoo should just put his dick back in his mouth. Another crisis averted by some quick Hickville thinking!

On On
H2Ho

¹ A classy dinning establishment that serves breakfasts to wankers recovering from a two-day old hangover. Usually located within staggering distance (literally) of a Days Inn. Each piece of toast is served with a smile and enough butter to grease down 25 topless female mud wrestlers. It’s also good place to go at 5am when you’re "too drunk to sleep."

² Yes, I know this isn’t a real word. No, I don’t care what you think.