Where have all the hashers gone? (to be sung to the tune of the 60s tune "Where have all the flowers gone") At 9:55, the parking lot only had about 25 hashers waiting and ready. Are wankers afraid of a little frozen shiggy??? Fortunately, the crowd got a little bigger as hash time approached.

Seeing as how it was freezing, although out of tune, Father Abe was energetic with folks jumping around trying to keep warm. A couple of dogs attacked each other, much like any other Saturday hash, and Hawaiian Puke led us off walking. As we were headed out of the parking lot, the hashers committed the rudest, most awful act ever according to the reaction of a young Kmart shopper. We were walking by the back of her car and she was not able to pull out of her parking space until we went by. She honked and cursed and looked as though she was contemplating running over us. Hard Drive did a nice imitation of her screaming "my life is ruined, I am delayed 10 seconds getting out of my parking space!!!". Quite the thesbian. That was good entertainment for the walking portion of the hash.

Running was called and we were after true trail once again.

We crossed a small office parking lot and everyone was taking baby steps to keep from slipping on the ice when all of a sudden we heard a yelp and saw Stained Sheetz horizontal in the air with legs and arms flailing and then thump! -- he was on his arse. Not only did he land with a thump, he slid a little on his rear. I gave him an 8 for technical and a 9.5 for artistic.

After we turned off the office/main street area, we turned into neighborhoods that could have been on a Christmas card. The roads were unplowed so the FRBs did not seem to be running at their usual lightening pace and I actually was able to keep my eye on them for the first 2 miles.

Nurse Crotchet and I ran together, passed the walkers, patted their behinds, and lamented our tiredness.

We ran back into a neighborhood with smaller houses with mass construction going on—another one of those Potemkin Contruction Companies to see Missing Link darting about way up ahead. Normally, I wouldn’t feel very good about being on trail if I can see Missing Link, Quick Drawers, or Full Metal Balls ahead. So, I figured I was off on some short cut hunt. Low and behold, there was flour on the street.

As we appoached the crest of a hill, Hot Legs yelled "take a right", so like Wankers Aweigh, I decided not to disagree with her. Several of the pack hung a right and thought we saw FRBs ahead. It must not have been them since they came in way after us but it was indeed a shortcut it turned out.

We ran on the dangerous street side of an apartment complex, turned onto Route 236 and dodged traffic for about a mile and finally turned back left into another postcard snowy neighborhood. Loan Shark’s house was at the bottom of a hill, and we were all happy to see BEER NEAR.

After a cold, icy January run, nothing could have tasted better than something hot. Loan Shark showed off his culinary talents by preparing vegetarian and carnivore chile. Both were excellent!

Circle started with Missed Erections, Missing Link, Dr. Jekyll, Byte, and Jag Queen being too wimpy to come outside. They elected to watch the circle from the warmth of the house—BIG WIMPS.

Violations were:

1. Loan Shark and Cheap Slut’s spirit for not using colored flour
2. Hawaiian Puke for the bad weather
3. Dream Beaver for hocking a giant loogie (spelling—don’t usually write words like that in my correspondence ;-)
4. Jag Queen and Put It Out for not wearing shorts

Mellow Foreskin Cheese had the hashit and carried it proudly. It was passed to Loan Shark.

We sang Swing Lo and hiked the 10 miles back to our cars.

Another excellent hash.

Rubber Chicken!

By the way, the January Full Moon Hash was last Saturday night.

By another way, Bon voyage to all the hashers traveling to Tasmania Interhash 2000 to represent our awesome Mt. Vernon Hash! See you soon:

On On,