February 12, 2003
Hare: Gilligan & F*ckin' Goofy
Hounds: 17 (2 virgins)
The Advanced Technology Center on Williamson Blvd. was the place to be this week. Hashers gathered in the back parking lot right next to the Securi-tah Guard's golfcart. Uh-oh, that could spell trouble. He didn't even look twice at us, however, and hopped into his little cart and went on his merry way. Good for us. The hares gave their chalk talk advising us to look for glo-stick necklace thingies in addition to all the usual marks. They also included a big honkin' eyeball mark, which meant we were supposed to look for treasures that were hidden on trail.
The first check near the entrance to the Tech Center was a real doozy. It took several minutes and several hashers to finally find it on a dirt trail running parallel to Williamson Blvd. Soon came upon a CB5, then on-right for a long, long, long time, then right again. It was 100% percent shiggy, which is what we've all come to expect from the G-Man. There were about a hundred (okay, maybe not quite that many, but there were definitely too many!) unavoidable water crossings, thanks to last weekend's rain.
"Ooh, look at the pretty glow stick-oh wait, what's that?" CB7??? Son of a b*tch! (There was also an eyeball here, but the DFLs didn't even bother to look.) Okay, back from whence we came. Somewhere in there (don't remember if it was before or after the CB7) was a little uphill, downhill, uphill, downhill action-that must have been Goofy's idea, and a YBF. Perpetual DFLs, Cockpit & Crotchduster (who else?!) and the virgins picked up all the glo-stick thingies along the way and decorated their various body parts. Salad Shooter threatened to kick our asses if we didn't pick them up-something about the poor little animals eating them and dying-blah, blah, blah. Shiggy, shiggy, big ass puddle, glo-stick, shiggy, glo-stick, puddle. That's pretty much the way it went until we reached the end. "Hey look, a bonfire!" Hope that's hashers and not a squatter's camp. As long as they have beer, it doesn't matter, right? It turned out to be hashers. Hooray!
We had just started to circle up when we saw headlights coming toward
us. Uh-oh! Could it be cops? Yep, it was. Johnny Law had seen the
fire and the glo-sticks and thought we were having us a rave party in
the woods. He seemed pretty disappointed when we told him what we were
doing. He stood there for a few minutes, looking perplexed before he
finally retreated. Okay, back to business. Gilligan was ready to divvy
up the prizes to those who had found the hidden treasures on trail.
Turns out Sunk-n-Shit found them all, but he was nice enough to share
with Cummy Tummy and Cockpit so we each got a prize. We got to choose
between a Darwin fish, an "Evolve" fish, or a Evolution fish f*cking an
"IXOYE" fish, in honor of Darwin's birthday, of
course. Circle commenced in the usual manner-hares, virgins, birthdays,
FRB, DFL, etc., etc. Nothing to see here, folks. After putting out the
fire, per Johnny Law's request, we packed up and went to South Turn for
some grub. And that, my friends, is all I have to say about that.
Buh-bye now.
-Cockpit
Last modified: Saturday, 2009-Mar-07 05:30:58 PM EST
