THE ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING
Saturday, May 25, 2002
Hare: New Shoez

Although this was the all-important Annual General Meeting (AGM)of the Hogtown Hash House Harriers, I was not one of the lucky half-minds who got to run New Shoez's trail. Instead, I was imprisoned for almost the entire day in a modern torture chamber commonly referred to as "the office". Fortunately I managed to escape my evil captors right around 5pm by throwing my laptop through a window and quickly headed to the On In.

One of the disadvantages of going to an On In without running trail is that you end up being the only person there who doesn't look like an escaped mental patient that got dressed with the lights off. In other words - you look somewhat normal. The fact that I looked somewhat normal was pointed out to me as soon as I walked in the door. Kazoo (never one to keep a stupid thought to himself) told me I looked like someone from The Matrix and then started firing french-fries in my general direction, telling me to dodge his potato bullets a la Keanu Reeves.

Another harrier (whom I had never actually had the pleasure of meeting before) walked up to me and started making fun of the fact that I was carrying an issue of The Economist. This harrier obviously wasn't very bright. Had he stopped to think for just a second, he would have remembered that flat-chested bimbos can't read and that I could only be carrying a copy of The Economist for one of the following reasons:

1) To scare off harriers like him;
2) To pick up a real man;
3) To roll it up and use it to beat fatboys who throw french-fries at me.

I found an empty seat at Shampoo's table and sat down. Soon the Annual General Meeting got underway using a copy of the AGM Agenda from 1991 that Sex Toy found in her basement.

First Sex Toy stood up and gave the pack with a brief report on Hogtown's finances (our Hash Cash Dapper Sapper was sadly unavailable as he was busy laundering the money collected at the last few runs). Sex Toy explained that Arthur Anderson had declared HogtownH3 solvent and also determined that we had too much d*mn money in our account.

Birdbrian, the outgoing GM, then announced the following mismanagement appointments:

Religious Advisor - Shithead
Altered Boy - Black Widow
On Sec - Sex Toy
Hash Scribe - H2Ho
Hash Cash - Dapper Sapper (appointed in dementia), Back Up - Wet Pussy
Trailmaster - Birdbrian
Hash Flash - New Shoez
Hash Throat - Moonman
Hash Horn - Sweet Cheeks
Haberdasher - Mrs. Robinson
Beer Meister - Kazoo
Hash Dismembered - Dead End
(someone called hat in the circle, but it was only her hair)
Web Wankers - Ultimate Asshole, Sweet Cheeks and H2Ho

Birdbrian then called up the following visiting wankers for down downs: Bad Semen, Sumo, Share And Share Alike and Kellogg's/Tony the Tiger.

At this point only one mismanagement position remained unfilled - The Grand Master. Who would be appointed GM? As I considered the possibilities, Spanks for the Mammaries walked up and asked me if the GM "elections" were next. Elections?!? Poor, naïve Spanks. Did she really think we were living in a democracy? Seasoned hashers knew that Hogtown would always be ruled by a dicktatorship. The only question was who would seize power this year…

In politics, it's always wise to watch out for the quite ones - the ones that look too innocent. Wet Pussy was a prime example of such a harriers. Outwardly, he appeared friendly, harmless and uninterested in supreme governmental authority. In reality, he was the leader of an underground group of fanatics called the "M*r*thon R*nners Alliance" (commonly referred to as the MRA). The MRA was constantly trying to recruit hashers into their international network of terrorist cells by inviting them to participate in charity runs - under the guise that they were always "for a good cause". Any hasher stupid enough to accept such an invitation was brainwashed (convinced that stretching is good), tortured (made to run long distances with no BC) and forced to adopt the MRA uniform (matching Nike shorts and t-shirt). I knew that at least two Hogtown harriettes had already gone over to the dark side as casualties of Hogtown's war against normalcy. As much as I hated to admit it, both Mrs. Robinson and Sex Toy were now part of Wet Pussy's MRA harem. I frequently overheard these two bimbos talking about MRA activities and making comments such as, "That was a great 5k we ran this morning!" This sent a chill down my spine. I could easily be the next target.

Recent Reuters news reports had suggested that Wet Pussy was starting to amass his vast army of m*r*thon r*nners outside our city walls. When questioned, Wet Pussy had reassured us that he was only placing his army there to protect Hogtown and to ensure the legitimacy of the Mismanagement elections. But we knew better. He was positioning himself for a power grab. He wanted to be GM and would likely stop at nothing to get it.

Another harrier who desperately wanted to be the Grand Master was our RA Shithead. Shithead, a big advocate of the unification of church and state, could frequently be heard espousing the opinion that since he was already RA - he should be made GM as well. On this particular day he had come dressed like Hannibal in an obvious attempt to frighten off any political opponents - however he appeared to have forgotten his voodoo dolls and push pins at home for once. .

Shampoo and Moist Leatherette posed a different kind of threat to the Hogtown leadership. This pair had most of the Hogtown kennel convinced that they were just freethinking, liberal-minded artists. However they couldn't fool me so easily. I knew that behind their poetry writing, interpretive dancing exteriors lay dark anarchist souls. I had once overheard a discussion between these two that had astonished me. Shampoo and Moist firmly believed that the GM-ship should be the responsibility of not just one individual, but that this duty should instead rotate weekly between the various comrades of the Hogtown kennel (much as trail laying duties are shared). As I sat at Shampoo and Moist's table watching the AGM, I could help but notice that Moist had several extra bags with her that she was attempting to hide from me. One of these suspicious bags appeared to contain a bottle of drainer fluid. No doubt these two revolutionaries were planning on disrupting the proceeding by poisoning the GM candidates. I was going to have to watch them (and my food) carefully.

And then there was the Shadow vs. Kazoo cold war. Both of these half-minds secretly coveted the GM-ship. They also viewed each other as the greatest obstacle to becoming the next Hogtown despot. These two archenemies had never openly threatened each other in the public political arena (in fact, they pretended to be good friends). Yet we all knew this was just a charade and that in reality, they were each stockpiling an arsenal of biochemical weapons to use against each other. And when I say arsenal, I mean ARSEnal. It was rumored that each of these trigger-happy warlords was increasing his armory by approximately four hundred bottled farts per day. At this rate, biological warfare experts estimated that within three months, both Kazoo and Shadow would have the ability to launch an airborne, cross-continental asphyxiation attack against the kennel of their choice. UN representatives had been sent to Shadow and Kazoo's respective Third-World bottling factories in an effort to negotiate a halt to the arms production and convince these rivals to sign a fart disarmament pact. However the talks had failed when Shadow and Kazoo got into an argument about whose silent-but-deadly warheads were more lethal.

But in my opinion, neither Kazoo nor Shadow would ever dare to push the red button and be responsible for starting the First Flatulence War. The risks were just far too high…

Another possibility for GM was Giggles. Giggles, an officer of the high court by profession, had recently started using her powers to pressure the current GM (Birdbrian) into making her the sole illegitimate heir to the Hogtown throne. Birdbrian's car was constantly covered in parking tickets and he had already been arrested several times for carrying a concealed weapon (his buff body). Giggles had offered to waive all pending charges if Birdbrian agreed to her terms - one year as the Hogtown GM. With the threat of prison sex hanging over his head, Birdbrian was in a very tight position indeed. From my standpoint, I felt Giggles would make a good choice. They say that ultimate power corrupts ultimately. But since Giggles was already corrupt, things could only get better from here on in.

As for me... Being entirely uninterested in world politics, devoid of common sense and incapable of independent thought - I had no chance of becoming the next Grand Master.

And that's how things stood when Birdbrian stood up to announce that the Hogtown GM for 2002-2003 would in fact be - Giggles!

I could say something inspiring at this point, but I think I've used up all of the words in my vocabulary. So I think I'll just

On On
H2Ho