As I walked up Yonge Street, I glanced at my watch and noticed that I was once again late. Hash time late. This tardiness was turning into a very bad habit. One of these days I was going to miss the circle entirely and might actually have to check trail on my own. Being a typical harriette (i.e. completely helpless and fairly obtuse), the idea of thinking for myself struck fear into my heart. I began to run.

My worst fears were confirmed as I approached the start location. The pack was already beginning to circle up! And me still in my geek suit and heels!! I ran across the street and into the middle of the pack. But they didn’t recognize me in my civilian outfit and completely ignored my desperate pleas to delay the start of the trail.

Then I spotted Shadow standing with his back towards me. Since I have always considered Shadow to be a kind and conscientious harrier (even if he is a bit of an idiot), I was sure that he would help me. I shouted his name. Strangely, he too ignored me and didn’t even bother to turn around to acknowledge my presence. My feelings now deeply hurt, I reacted the only way a reasonable, rational and mature hasher could - I pulled down Shadow’s pants.

That’s when everyone started screaming.

It was only then that I realized that something wasn’t quite right. I wasn’t actually standing in front of a bar. And the pack really didn’t look like the pack. And nobody was drinking beer. And everyone was wearing identical T-shirts. And nobody was farting... Luckily my days of watching the Discovery Channel paid off and I soon determined that I was actually standing in the middle of a group of Running Room overachievers. The huge Running Room sign on the front of the building confirmed my suspicions. Hmmmm. Reading sure comes in handy once in a while…

I’m not sure who was more frightened, me or the overachievers. But I ran for my life and escaped before they could kidnap me and force water down my throat (reportedly their favorite and most effective torture technique). Fortunately, the real start location was only a few doors up from the Running Room and I found the pack sitting on the patio drinking beer. As I approached, someone insulted me. Then someone belched. There’s no place like home, Aunty Em!

Soon after, the pack circled up. Easy Bush, our hare du jour, immediately began to whine about how difficult it had been to lay trail while pushing one kiddy in a baby stroller and dragging a second one along behind her. However Trix R 4 Prix certainly wasn’t paying any attention to the complaining. The sale at the Sporting Life next door had completely mesmerized this harriette and she was standing in a trace, staring at a brand new pair of Nike cross-trainers. Luckily the pack’s "On On" calls broke through this Swoosh brainwashing attempt and we were finally on our way (with Trix safely in tow).

As an integral part of the chalk talk, hares usually warn the pack about any unusual marks used on trail. However today’s trail was different. Always the innovator, Easy Bush had just decided to surprise the pack. As we soon learned, "F" didn’t always stand for "false". Apparently "F" sometimes stood for "this isn’t really a false – keep going straight and you might find trail again, you dumb-ass." What made this particularly tricky was the fact that a regular "F" could in no way be distinguished from a "dumb-ass F".

We found one such "dumb-ass F" near a school and had to stop to wait for the hare because no one had any f*cking clue where we should be going. Most of us stood around and happily counted how many half-minds we had lost on trail so far. The current number appeared to be three: Ditch Bitch, Moist Leatherette and Shampoo. We gleefully watched as New Shoez disappeared over the horizon. (There goes another one!)

Giggles, on the other hand, seemed to find great delight in using her feet to crush pinecones that had dropped from a tree. As I watched her jump up and down and up and down, I began feeling progressively more nauseous and wondered how Canada’s generous social net had somehow managed to let unstable lawyers fall through the cracks. Oh well, I’m sure Giggles will one day derive just as much pleasure from hopping up and down in a padded room.

Soon Easy Bush arrived and once again began to lecture us on the difficulties of laying trail, pushing ten baby strollers, ending world hunger and being president of the universe – all at the same time. The pack recognized the significance of the hare’s accomplishments and applauded her ability to lay "dumb-ass Falses" so exceptionally well.

At some point the trail finally led the pack back to Yonge Street and to the BC, a bar named "The Sailor’s Dickey" (insert your own joke here). As we left the BC, the hare assured us that the On In was "just a few blocks away." Apparently people who push baby strollers suffer from some type of illness that makes them believe you can define 50 blocks as "a few". After a three-hour hike, the entire pack eventually made it back to Mad Monty’s. Once there, we found the bar staff had kindly provided us with some free food. In the feeding frenzy that followed, several fingers were unintentionally lost. On the downside, certain Hogtowners will now have to take their socks off to count to 12. On the upside, these same imbeciles now know the secret Eerie H3 handshake.

Mrs. Robinson (substituting for our absent GM) handed out the following down downs:

Easy Bush – for being the hare
Just Dale – for being a virgin, for living with Little Buddy and because Little Buddy made him cum
Dapper Sapper, Sex Toy, Greenskeeper and Menage a Duh – because they didn’t run trail
Wet Pussy – for being a back-sliding bastard
Little Buddy – for also being a back-sliding bastard
Giggles and Just Mary – for back-sliding
Greenskeeper and Menage a Duh – for being huge back-sliders
Easy Bush – for screwing up the trail and for wearing a running shirt
Moist Leatherette and Ditch Bitch – for getting lost on trail and for missing the BC
New Shoez – for FRBing in a stoopid way
(At one point on trail New Shoez was asked, "Are you on?" His reply? "No, I’m over here.")
Iced F*cket – for getting slower each week (he must be getting his work-out elsewhere)
Just Mary – for wearing new shoes
Just Dale – was named Double Ended Dildo (I don’t remember why. Ask someone who was paying attention.)
Just Mary – for racing Just Like Tarzan down the street towards the On In
Dead End and Shampoo – for talking in the circle and for bragging about their trail exploits
Little Buddy – because down downs were taking to long so he thought he wouldn’t be able to get home in time to call his mom
Easy Bush and Mrs. Robinson – for competing and overachieving
H2Ho – for trying to impress everyone by showing up in a suit
Trix R 4 Prix – for losing her husband (congratulatory down down)
Rose eh – for being a b*tch

On On
H2Ho