SFH³ Trash

Hash #1239, December 25, 2006

Oy Vey, It's Hashmas Day

 
 
In the beginning Yahweh created the hares and the hounds;

And the hounds were without form, and void;  and darkness was on the face of the Park.

Okay, so it wasn't quite dark yet, and the pack, which started small, began to swell, and what, you thought this was a Christmas tale?  No ma'am.  For the second week r*nning, with much the same tsuris, the Chosen Ones were in charge.  Our Hashmas hares, MOTs Pinprick and Chickless Boner, surely wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the Hanukkah Hash, would they?  No they wouldn't, because they're good Jews.

The sun was still shining when we had a minyan, so after the speil (or, megillah actually) from the machers, the mishpocha were off, hoping beyond hope to find trail marks.  Like so many tribes before them, the pack quickly went their separate ways, wandering the deserted park in hopes of finding the promised brew.  First to disappear was our maven, On All Fours, who was rumored to have a map and smart enough to use it.  Just rumors, it turns out.

The sun was swiftly setting, and the schnooks and schmucks were having trouble telling the schmutz from the bubkes.  By the second check, Jack the Kvetcher was nowhere to be found, and was presumed dead.

C uming Mamzer was next to take his leave, muttering something about the "bloody meshuggeners that set this bloody narrischkeit".  Feygele the Irishman and his dog Mohel were last seen schmoozing a zaftig shiksa.  Well, the dog was getting somewhere, anyway.

Schlepping on, Pubic Permstein and Shit Eating Grinsky were determined to stay on trail.  What total schmoes. 

After what seemed like hours, but was actually more like 115 minutes, Posterior Motivitz led (as only she can lead, nudge nudge, wink wink) Hash schlimazel Who's Your Ta-tee out of the wilderness and on to the beer-check, some 4 and a half miles from the start.  Did we say beer?  Oops, no beer, just Andre "Champagne".  Absolute dreck.  But with 5 survivors present, we killed it.

Back at the start, the shtetl was reconvened, chazerai was noshed, and all was forgiven (but not forgotten!).  And even though no Tummler was present, everyone got shickered on cans of Olympia and whatever that orange liquid was.  Cheese Turd appeared out of nowhere, and was gifted a can of Cedar Brew, which he determined not to be as "good" as the Olympia.

Mazel tov to the hares.  And merry Hashmas.  See what you missed?

L'chaim,

Tres Nudnick, hash scribe