Labour of Love Hash in Niagara

September 2, 2002

Well, here's another tradition, the Labour Day Hash in Niagara, once again held in Firemen's park, but going in another direction, on the assumption that no one who did the previous Firemen's forage five years ago would be there, but lo and behold, here we have Ms Deep Throat, one of the few and only who got lost on a hash, and not even in the woods but in some burbs, and today she is accompanied by the long lost Nosefroth himself, who on that previous event went to look for the Deep, and now has found her again. So what did we have on this hot & dusty day: not the usual crowd, but a crowd nonetheless, including the local Bill/Rogers duo who promised future hashes in challenging scenery, some local runners, No Name Bastard and his pussy and three is a crowd from Buffalo, i.e. Udder, Soup and Doc, whose name had to be repeated thrice, since they pronounced it Dack with that Newyack twang - and we didn't get it right away, well some of us have to beg. So after some idling and being sure that the most important person, Bumsteer with beer, had arrived, off we went on a wild chase through the lovely park, up on that enormous mount that used to be a dump but now just belches methane and gives the best damn view in the peninsula, up and down through hills and dales, along the trail of Bruce, until my eye finally spied the coveted beerstop which was becharmed with pizza bread and local tomatoes, and a hangout for drugdealers, well alright to loll for a while, but on on we had to go, we were only halfway through, to the great dismay of some enfants terribles. So there was a short cut for some little wankers, but others had to climb a horrendous hill, till we finally reached the chariots and got on to the good stuff, that is down-downs.

So is it true that some people actually make an effort to get down-downs, another way to get more beer especially when stores are low which they seemed to be today? This would certainly be the case for a certain seņor Hyena, who asked for it several times, but first it was the turn of hares Phart & ET, although I had nothing to do with it, except being tainted by association, and it was proclaimed a plague of a hash. Then we had a christening ceremony for those pesky neighbour girls, Jabberwocky and Jailbait, and their frenchie exchange student who received the nom de plume of Nappie, after the famous Emperor. Then it was the turn of Joe, who incidentally jumped like a rabbit on trail when I yelled on-on, and him looking like wee Willie Nelson was named Big John Holmes (after the famous porn star - for those who don't watch that smut), and we gave him a moniker the first time out, just in case he never comes back. In the accusations column Deep Throat was condemned of short cutting, better than getting lost and holding us up for an hour, I'd say, and then we sang "The sexual life of the camel" but missing TwoJugs muddled up the words, and truth be known, songs were lacking overall, but we farted on nevertheless, and fortunately our Buffalo friends came up with a good one about a certain Mrs. Murphy, which happens to be a favorite of Hyena's, and as noted above he got to slurp down twice, once because Humidor pissed on trail, but she claims she is pregnant and in constant piss-mode, and Hyena had to take the hit for her, and once for chivalry on trail, him saying it was a miracle baby, yeah, he was not around and no, his tubes untangled, and Roger had new shoes but his sandals wouldn't hold the beer to well, never mind getting a sock for him to sip it through.

So on on to Chatters where the pitchers were cheap and the food 3 bucks so how come we still ended up with 15 buckaroos each, oh well it was good and so was the entertainment when Hyena sang Alouetzky for our little Jailbait, until her Dad came to collect her and he was not amused but drank a the beer nevertheless. So for once it was an easy ride down the street for the hares, with half the rest having to beat it down the highway or across some fortified border crossing, a laborious effort indeed.

TranScribed by E.T. - September 18, 2002