Aristotle & McGregor’s Re-gift Hash

February 9, 2008

I woke up this morning pleased to find myself safe and sound on my couch. Once again my internal GPS got me home… somehow. I was left however with my worst hangover since Sweet Daddy Siki karaoke at the Duke of York and without my keys. (Anyone who found a set of keys please return them to the Hash Scribe.)

It all started innocently enough with a regular crowd at one of our regular venues; Aristotle & McGregor’s. It was nice to see that Give the Bitch a Ring visiting from Kansas City finally made it out to a Hogtown hash. She says she has a gig in Toronto but we all know she’s really stalking Dapper Sapper.

During chalk talk, snow novice Casket Case learned a new trick. Toss a snowball on a sloped roof and watch it roll down, gather mass and plonk a hasher on the head.

After introductions and instructions from the hares Sex Toy and Cougar, the pack chased after our hyperkinetic GM Wet ‘n Dirty who was prancing like a gazelle on Benzedrine down Mt. Pleasant.

Although the weather was sloppy, the trail was well laid and marked with day glo orange carpenters chalk and surveyor’s tape. Following the plops we zipped across the beltline, through the cemetery and into the ravine where we ran into a taller than usual fence. Some, like hash gymnast Humpday vaulted it (ya right) , slashing his dainty wrist in the process. Others like mammalian Eager Beaver burrowed under the obstacle, while the rest of the lemmings walked around it. It was tough slogging through the slush and even our over amped GM took a breather in a snowbank courtesy of Black Widow.

Eventually the trail wound its way back to the beer check at Bird Brian’s abode. While the pack whinged about returning to the bar for their dry bags, Rose Eh stepped up and volunteered to retrieve them. Hmmm… perhaps there is something to this kinder gentler Rose Eh.

Walking to the on in COD admitted that he may have over served himself at the beer check and reminded me that he goes from one beer to projectile vomiting. Thanks for the warning dude.

Arriving Chez Sex Toy I was both delighted and horrified to see an entire keg of Amsterdam beer. Sure it probably seemed like a good idea but I know from first hand experience how much damage one of those things can cause. The passing of time would prove me right yet again.

The circle was a blur except for Give the Bitch a Ring ummm, errr, ahhh… titillating the boys, lame ass choirmaster Humpday getting called out for repeating songs, and Halfwit and Pittsburgher Finger Food being punished for missing trail. I also remember Hash Secretary Sex Toy admonishing the mob for their unruly behaviour. Hey? Whose idea was the keg?

I definitely remember some kick ass chow prepared by Cougar and Sex Toy. I vaguely remember the re-gift, featuring some delightfully tacky bookends, a utilitarian light, Casket Case embossed martini glasses, a chess set, a magnetic backgammon board, a lunch box, a lovely embroidered clock, an ice wine style liquid of some sort, etc. etc. etc.

I barely remember some party game with rude gestures and lots of thumping. The purpose of the game was to help us “get fucked up“. Hmmmm… like we needed help!

I think I remember standing in the middle of the room with my boxers around my ankles. Best thing I remember was Morehead getting into my pants. Now that I think of it so did New Shoez. Good lord!

Last thing I remember was actually a poignant moment between nations with Rose Eh braiding the hair of Give the Bitch a Ring. I‘m gonna keep my eyes on that pair!