Encounters of the #2 Kind
Saturday, August 3rd, 2002
Hares: Giggles and Rub-a-dub

I'm embarrassed to admit there are two Hogtown hashers who are actually dumb enough to live in Ajax: Giggles and Rub-a-dub. What's even more surprising is there are several more Hogtown half-minds whose social calendars are so wide open - they're willing to drive all the way to Ajax on a Saturday just to hash. On August 3rd, this select group of socialites was the following: Shadow, Ultimate Asshole, Wine-Ho, Bottom Scrawler, French Ticker, FLAB, Moonman, Birdbrian, Sex Toy and H2Ho. (No, not me. The other H2Ho. Really.)

FLAB, Moonman and I (OK - maybe it was me) arrived promptly at 5pm. We walked up to the front door and immediately noticed two soggy and very dirty pairs of r*nning shoes sitting on the porch. FLAB pointed out that they must belong to the two hares and guessed we could expect quite a lot of shiggy on trail. We should have turned around right then and there, gotten back into the car, and driven back to the safety of civilization (i.e. Toronto). Unfortunately the three of us decided to stay. A decision we would live to regret…

Before we could even ring the doorbell, Rub-a-dub opened the door and explained that degenerates like us weren't allowed inside. He directed us to the backyard instead. As we walked towards the back of the house, I looked up and saw Ultimate Asshole standing on the 2nd floor balcony, drinking beer and laughing at us. Why was he allowed inside and not us? (I guess some animals really are more equal than others.) In the backyard we found two blow-up wading pools that Rub-a-dub had stolen from the neighbourhood children. We also found Wine-Ho and French Tickler lounging around enjoying the afternoon sun, drinking beer.

In an effort to block out the crying of the neighbourhood children, I made up my mind to go for a swim and took off my shoes. Since I had eaten less than 2 hours earlier, I decided to jump into the smaller wading pool first. The water came up just over my ankles and I felt quite confident I wasn't in any danger of drowning (unless I got drunk and passed out).

By now, some of the non-swimmers (Birdbrian, Shadow and Ultimate Asshole) had found a bag of balloons and a garden hose. These three rocket scientists proceeded to make the most ineffective water balloons in the history of mankind. It seems that Giggles and Rub-a-dub had purchased balloons that were made of some kind of indestructible space material (or possibly recycled condoms), because no matter how hard, far, or long they were thrown - they refused to break. The only thing that had any kind of effect on them were the prickly bushes in the conservation area just behind Giggles and Rub-a-dub's yard.

As we waited for the rest of the pack to arrive, I stood in my wading pool and tried to avoid getting clocked in the noggin. Meanwhile, Birdbrian and Ultimate Asshole were launching water balloons straight up into the air in an apparent attempt to kill someone. Shadow, on the other hand, kept wandering into the conservation area to pick up the bits of rubber left behind by the broken balloons (to make sure none of his small furry woodland friends would choke on them).

Once everyone had arrived, we circled up and headed off.

The pack quickly discovered that the hares had planned an educational run. The first part of the trail turned out to be a loop through Giggles and Rub-a-dub's subdivision that took us past new houses at various stages of completion. And what learning experience did the hares have in store for us next?

Well, I don't know about you - but I have NEVER really wondered what happens to all of that stuff we flush down the toilet. You know what I mean - the dead goldfish, the baby alligators, last night's beer, that tooth you accidentally swallowed. So at first I was very please to see that the trail was heading to the waterfront. It was the perfect day for a pleasant run along the shores of Lake Ontario! However what started out as a lovely trail, soon took an offal turn.

It seems that Giggles and Rub-a-dub had decided to include a lesson in human waste disposal as part of the trail. As our two FRBs, Shadow and Birdbrian, barreled along the sand, they suddenly came across a very dirty and stinky pond whose water seemed to originate from a big plastic pipe. They stopped, looked at the brown goop pouring out of the pipe, watched it flow into the lake, and inhaled its pungent fumes. It didn't look too safe. But these two FRBs didn't want to lose the lead they had over the rest of the pack and the fastest route was across the mouth of the pond.

At this point Shadow and Birdbrian decided to throw caution, logic, common sense, and all intelligence to the wind, and proceeded straight into the dirty water. I was quite a few meters behind them and didn't realize the danger that awaited me. As I rounded the last corner before the pond, I came face to face with a very angry American screaming, "Giggles!! What the f*ck is this!!!" Apparently Bottom Scralwer did not share his fellow harriers' desire to go feces diving. He had stopped dead in his tracks at the edge of the poo pond and was now yelling at the hares. He stopped hollering long enough to explain to me that he didn't want to get covered in excrement on his wedding anniversary and ruin a romantic evening with French Tickler. Soon the fastidious Scrawler found an alternate route around the poo pond and the rest of the pack followed gagging. Well, everyone except the courageous Shadow and Birdbrian who had already crossed to the other side.

The pack eventually caught up with our stool samplers, Shadow and Birdbrain, and, from a distance, congratulated them on their courage. The humble Shadow and Birdbrian explained that they thought the water looked a bit "dirty" (you think?), so they decided to step on the "mud" so they wouldn't have to put their feet in the dirty water. However as soon as they stepped on the "mud", they sank in knee deep and suddenly realized that something didn't feel quite right.

As we ran away from Lake Ontario, I kept glancing at Shadow and Birdbrian to see if they were starting to grow any extra appendages, limbs or maybe a few brain-cells as a result of their fecal adventure. I noticed that Birdbrian was still in denial and kept muttering the following words of comfort to himself, "That was just dead fish. I'm sure we just stepped in fish. Did you know there were dead fish back there?" (Whatever helps you sleep at night, BB.) Shadow, on the other hand, didn't seem at all perturbed by the experience and commented that his socks sure smelled a heck of a lot better now than they did before.

Soon there was relief in sight. As the pack ran past a posh lakeside condo, our two dark knights jumped into the condo's fountain where they washed the remnants of other people's meals off their legs and feet. By the time I got there, all of the goldfish were dead - but at least I could stand near Birdbrian and Shadow without vomiting. Before we set out on trail again, Giggles informed Birdbrian and Shadow that their wading pool privileges had been revoked since she didn't want the rest of the pack to be infected by the bacterial infections these two were now carrying.

Back at the house some half-minds went for a swim, while Birdbrian decided to demonstrate his superior aeronautical engineering skills by breaking a tiki torch. The pack tried hanging out in the back yard, but was soon chased indoors by the Ajax mosquitoes. Inside, we ate jambalaya and blew-up balloons into x-rated shapes until Giggles and Rub-a-Dub kicked us out. Shortly after the pack left, Wet Pussy arrived.

On On
H2Ho