Hanging out "Chez Rosie" Hash - August 1, 1999 or: -"When Bad Trash Happens to Good People"
So here it is the second time in two weeks that we have to endure a hash dreamt up by Toad although Breastburn got the blame. Just like the milkshake machine on Breastburn’s kitchen kounter, we must be sodamasochistic! Well, after slithering down Snake Road and getting sniffed by the ferocious Kino, we arrive in said kitchen, Phart’s beandish in hand. As usual, hashers are slow in coming, and some don’t come at all, it being a long weekend and they’re not up for it. Since much water came down in Waterdown the night before, previously set marks came right out in the wash, - or so we were told by the hares - and we take off down the backyard even more clueless than usual. Hubby yells a parting shot along the line of "let them be, leaves of three", good thing we took a leak beforehand because there’s nothing worse than an itchy ass unless it is a trail devised by Toad, having to risk said crotch twice on the same chain-link fence, and going down a very steep hill on same said butt. Well, once we got our ass onto a real road, it was clear sailing, there being only one way around and no false trails, except through the cemetery but that was for the competitive bastards, so 2-Jugs had to cheat. After an invigorating dash down-on home, leaving the walkers in their dust, we’re ready for our beer, which as usual was in short supply, despite some deceiving pictures on the net, and I haven’t seen that Hash Dray in a long time to give him proper shit for keeping us short on the party-supplies. So here we have Blood-Clot banging his head against the drainpipe after finding out what Wendy spent in the shopping mall but we gave him a down-down to help him forget. The whole gang jumped into the pool after devouring Rosie’s delectable chicken livers, and the down-downs were somewheres in between with deserving culprits being fingered, including Toad for doing it twice in one week which left Gary to wonder what he got himself into here. The usual Bacchanalia ensued, including Rosie’s lambchops and some very nice wieners if I recall correctly, I’m sure I had a wiener somewhere along the line that day, it being a holiday but not Phart’s day off. So party on we did, although teenage children and their troubles seemed to dampen the hare’s enjoyment, but then leave it to kids to cramp your lifestyle, although Clot’s kids had some very funny tales which redeemed them somewhat plus the budding Jade blew the bugle better than Phart, so Clot keep your eyes on those boys sniffing around the premises. Some interlopers claiming to be family members joined the melee to cause more bathroom lineups; I’m not sure if they brought their own moonshine, but they sure knew how to handle the hash chalice and chucked the offerings back like old pros. So after a respectable amount of reveling, on-on home we go, contemplating the week before us, and leaving Rosie with the trash.