Here’s Copulate and Bumsteer’s Version – edited and embellished by ET

FRIDAY:

Friday’s festivities started out slowly. That is to say that when Bumsteer, Handjob and Copulate pulled up to the parking lot of Kamp Kodiak for Kids there was no refreshments to be seen. In fact, everyone was waiting for Two-Jugs, who apparently was bringing the kegs. Hyena soon found out that Handjob, being the big girl that she is, had a whole 6-pack of Moose Head nestled in a cooler of ice, and began to partake.

The wait was soon over when "the crew" arrived. Wheels spinning, music blaring and reminiscent of the Dukes of Hazard or any Redneck/Bayou movie, Two-Jugs promptly drove into a ditch in front of the Kitchen. He was shortly freed and then almost drove into a second ditch.

Everybody stowed their gear and gathered jealously around Handjob’s new Sport Utility Vehicle (green Ford Ranger) which she had just picked up that morning. It should be noted that it was parked directly beside Copulates Sport Utility Vehicle, (an equally nice 93 Ford Aerostar in mint condition), and that the majority of stares were directed that way.

Everyone was soon fed and the first of the two kegs was tapped. Two-jugs Sprayed everyone with the frothy head (HEAD WHO SAID HEAD………….) the pitchers soon stared to flow. Nose Froth apparently being a Boy Scout and having a craving for a Brownie invited Deepthroat to "help him build a fire" down by the lake. I’m pretty sure there is some sort of sexual innuendo in there but intelligence is not my strong suit. With a cheery "Come on baby light my fire" they skipped off down the hill to return a short while later asking if anyone had any matches, and/or firewood, and/or a place to build a fire. It is my understanding that they were eventually able to build such fire and pay tribute to the God of Rain who answered their prayers by opening up the Heavens and letting loose with a torrential downpour.

The group retired to the back patio of the kitchen and the serious hydrating began in earnest. With only 30 litres of wine we were all hoping not to run out. Eventually Copulate brought out his guitar, and Handjob brought out, and threw away her inhibitions. It should be noted that "guitar" is not a euphemism for anything but a 6 stringed instrument of passion.

During one especially stirring and obviously emotional ballad, Black Widow and Handjob fell off of the cooler they were perched on and fell onto the ground. Oral Sox, fearing some sort of Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, immediately dosed them with every glass of beer that was available. * Hyena, observing this let out a sheepish laugh.

*Is this where HandJob told Black Widow "I want to introduce my kids to their new Daddy?"

The sky again let loose with another round of rain and Oral Sox, after observing a spout of rainwater nearby encouraged Two-Jugs to disrobe and shower up. Two-Jugs, always the shy one was eventually talked into this endeavor. He got nekked and then proceeded to show the group all of the recently cleaned parts of his body. And by the way, the police are following up on an animal abuse case. It seems that someone had dressed up Dirk the Rottweiler in a pair of black thong underwear. God, there are sick bastards out there. The owner of said thong underwear is soon to be identified via DNA tests.

And speaking of thong underwear, just as Two-Jugs was about to get dressed, Bumsteer began to play a game of Hide and Seek. Two-Jugs, who is apparently night-blind, showed the "Dance of The Rising Lights" by wearing Bumsteer’s headlamp as a thong and somehow making the beam of light rise and fall in a show of mental acumen that this author hasn't seen since Gandhi overcame his addiction to Big Macs.

With that the crew retired for much needed rest.

SATURDAY:

Saturday morning dawned bright and sunny. Bumsteer however, did not. The assembled crew prepared breakfast and awaited the arrival of the remainder of the Hash. Some members had to take to the road for the Saturday morning "LONG RUN" (a mere 18 km into town and back); I decided instead to have a beer. So did Black Widow. Bumsteer did not. Bumsteer did not even get out of bed.

The remainder of the hash arrived, Toad, Canoodler, Phart, ET and then Beetle and the Ryerson Girls. Bumsteer rises from his alcohol-induced coma.

The Saturday hash was a great walk in the woods. The rain had washed away the previous marks so instead the group went from moose shit pile to moose shit pile. Hyena and Copulate answered to a higher calling and became a roving, mobile BEER CHECK. During their travels they found Black Widow and Handjob* wandering down the road. The hash ended at the lake where everyone went in for a dip.

*Handjob went back to base camp halfway through the hash, and was relieved to hear Phart say there was a rumour she only went halfway.

The healing circle was formed at the side of the lake and the sacred chalice (which had been located in Niagara Falls) resumed its place in the circle. (and on Two-Jugs navel) The Down Downs commenced to the delight of Gina the Ryerson Girl who exclaimed, "This is just like Church. I don’t know the words to the songs there either". Notable Down Downs included:

The Ryerson Girls (Lara, Jen and Gina) for visiting

Beetle for backsliding

Black Widow for cougar hunting

Handjob for having no memory

Bumsteer for losing the chalice

Copulate for being the moral pillar of the previous evening

*There were also B-day down-downs for Canoodle, Beetle, Oral Sox and Two-Jugs. Birdie and Hercock were married 34 years that day and whether feathers had flown during that reign was not discussed. A Bigfoot for Mucky Dip was proffered for delivery by Hyena. This was Hash No. 690 – that is 69 with a big zero, doesn’t look like fun, but turned out o.k.

With the circle closed it was then off to the BBQ. There was some sort of conspiracy afoot to prevent Handjob from attending her family function by plying her with alcohol. Such a stalwart challenge for sure. Jesus made an appearance to the delight of all present. Jen the Ryerson Girl, fortified with wine, was overheard to say, "You can be my bitch" to Copulate. Handjob, playing the role of Goldilocks eventually broke into Useless’ cabin and fell asleep. The conspiracy an apparent success.

*La mama Grandes Tetas offered to show such objects to Two-Jugs, who hastily declined.

The festivities moved onto the point where a fire had been built. The area for the night’s festivities was carefully chosen for its flat, featureless terrain. The hash assembled around the fire and the music began. Phart went for a walk-about and fell into the lake. No one was aware that he had left so we were quite surprised when he returned soaking wet. According to Phart, it took him a good couple of minutes to get out, but he was determined to do it on his own. Phart, when your lifeline is bunch of drunken idiots singing "Seven Drunken Nights" around the campfire, you should stay away from the water’s edge or get water wings.

A request of Sweet Child of Mine by Beetle, turned into Sweet Child of Yours, when Two-Jugs demanded that Copulate stop allegedly hitting on his daughter. Two-Jugs began to regret the long walk to dry land in order to relieve himself and took to peeing into the lake. At one point in time, while peeing, he lost his balance and fell into the lake and began swimming in his own urine.

*It was rumoured that Two-Jugs toppled over due to the heavy weight of his instrument throwing him off balance, but this was not confirmed.

Bum Steer, noble bastard that he is,

o In trying to keep Handjob out of Useless' bed,

o In trying to keep her from driving to Staynor in the middle of the night,

o In trying to keep her from swimming in Two-Jugs lakeside Urinal, decides to keep her occupied by cuddling with her by the campfire. You just can't buy friendship like that. The fire embers die down; the night ends with all hashers’ anal virginity intact.

SUNDAY:

Sunday dawns bright and early and Handjob is heard to inquire "So, was there a BBQ last night?" With that, she locates her car keys and drives off into the sunrise proclaiming, "My family is going to kill me".

*Short-order Two-Jugs in a hairnet was cooking up a mess in the kitchen, and although they say you should soak up that alcohol with food the next day, that theory certainly did not work and it was a long ride into town over those bumpy barf tracks. Then all hashers got lost trying to find Jesus on a Sunday morning due to a faulty map.

The group assembles in Parry Sound at the residence of Jesus who leads the hash on a varied trail consisting of hills, forests, and shorelines. Not to mention the final straw of having to wait for a train to pass in order to finish the hash.

*Hyena and Useless get lost. Black Widow goes swimming and loses his shoe. We pass the biggest Urinal in North America, which apparently is located in the Parry Sound former train station. Two-Jugs wants to try it out, but it’s locked. Hashers can smell a beer stop, but apparently can’t find the refreshment stop. Why was that sign "Use at Own Risk" hidden under the 200-step stairs?

Notable Down Downs include:

Birdie and Jesus for being the longest standing Oakville HHH members present with more than 700 hashes between them

Bumsteer for chivalry in caring for the feeble minded 

The circle of healing closes. And the OH3 still has their chalice.

There are so many people to thank for weekends such as this. Biggest thanks go out to Useless and his brother for the use of the outstanding campground facilities. Useless' discretion was also appreciated on finding a small pile of clothing in his bedroom. "Was there pair of black thong underwear there?" Thanks go out to Copulate, our self-proclaimed moral compass. Like the traffic cop directing traffic, his mere presence and high moral fibre set the stage for most of us to make as big an ass of ourselves as possible. Thanks also go to Ryerson University for doing their usual bang-up job of producing such fine and outstanding young ladies as the Anal Virgins. You are always welcome at the Oakville Hash House Harriers.