05 November 2005
38. Jesus, What a Night
Southern Comfort H3 - 27 August 2004
Forgive me, Bearer of Hypocrisy, for I have Sinned. It has been three weeks since my last Hash Confession. I have had pure thoughts. I have thought of work and not of play. I have thought of the sun and not of darkness. I have thought of fields of flowing, green grass and not of mud. I have thought of the joys of intellectualism, and not the joys of the flesh. And I have thought of the outpouring of love, and not the overpouring of ale. For all of these things, I would like to express my profound regret. I come seeking forgiveness for my Hash Sins.
MY FOOLISH CHILD AND PAINFULLY PATHETIC BACKSLIDER, YOU WILL BE FORGIVEN. SHOW YOUR DESIRE FOR REPENTANCE BY RELEASING THE TIES THAT BIND YOU TO YOUR OTHERWORDLY DUTIES, SO YOU CAN ONCE AGAIN FEEL THE ECSTACY KNOWN AS FRIDAY NIGHT SHIGGY.
And so it was. I found salvation on the night of Friday, August 27, 2004... and it was Easy. All I had to do was drive to the familiar place known as Georgia Perimeter College. The last time I was here, I was wearing my Virgin Whites. Yes dearest reader, my first-ever trail started here. I realize there have probably been 500 trails from GPC since then. I missed them all. This time, instead of my Virgin Whites, I threw on my sh!ttiest clothes and joined the rest of the pack as we worshipped at the altar of the Southern Comfort Hash House Harriers.
Little Easy was our hare, and grabbed two people to join him: Ultra and Niplets. There was also talk of two water stops. So we prepared ourselves for what would probably transpire: A long trail, a painful set of checks and hamsterland, among the other usual joys.
Out of fear of persecution, I am going to refrain from listing the pack, since I will undoubtedly forget someone. But those who attended were heavenly, and a lot of those who attended were bimbos. At 7:25, the ambitious and the less-ambitious circled up. As it turns out, the bimbos would have to wait 2 1/2 hours to see any sign of the pack again.
First the hares, then us: across the parking lot and over a small bridge to the campus sports field. A check was found near the far corner, and the hounds spent many-a-minute looking for the next mark, but with no luck. Making matters worse was the football game going on in the stadium close by. The referees’ whistles ended up driving the pack insane. A wise hound finally broke down and approached two guys throwing a football in the field. They laughed and pointed us in the right d’erection.
Trail led into a creek, through a tunnel and out of the creek on the other side. In a moment of fear, I saw something I was trying so hard to forget: a huge field of flowing, green grass. We ran across it, and then into and out of a creek on the other side. More flowing, green grass led to more fear. Finally, we got into the creek for an extended stay. We would be in and out of this creek for more than an hour. Darkness fell upon us as we carefully navigated the rocky, uneven creek bottom. Even the crawdads were having difficulty.
After a couple more tough checks, it was out of the creek and out of the shiggy. The Mark of the Day was seen here, which was “RR.” Road Rage. I noticed that it prepared us for the assfault assault and took a lot of the pain away.
It was on the street that I finally knew my Hash Sins had been forgiven. That was here, disheveled, dirty and wet, that we ran past a Jehovah’s Witness Church. The congregation was just starting to leave. Some of them stared at me in confusion, and others looked away uncomfortably. Through the fence of the parking lot, a young child peered at me with wide eyes. She mumbled something. I think it was “Please save me from this hellish existence.” So on one side, there was the girl, trapped behind the fence, and trapped by a future that would include never-ending knocks on stranger’s doors, seeking other followers. On the other side, there I was, as free as I could be, not even encumbered by assfault and sidewalks. And to prove it, I once again disappeared into the trees.
Getting into the shiggy was simple. It was the check there on the cement that was difficult. 10 minutes later, we were following TP through a strip of forest, through a parking lot, and then behind… you guess it… another church. It was here that we finally dove into the hamsterland we had been waiting for. Briars ripped our legs, our arms and our clothes. At one point, my cranium had become entangled in a vine so large, I felt like I was wearing a Crown of Thorns. To escape this mess, we had to either scale a barbed-wire fence or crawl under it. Either way was less painful than the bloodletting we just experienced.
Down a big hill, we navigated another creek and dove under another fence. A second strip of Road Rage took us through a big parking lot, across a street and past a strip mall. And what was in this strip mall? A Worship Center. I had to laugh. Well, praise God, the BN appeared. There was much rejoicing as we reunited with the bimbos and the never-ending stream of beer. Some of us left the On In at about 11 while praying for two of our own who were still out on trail. But I guess that’s another story.
Thank you to everyone for a fine evening. My soul has been cleansed. See you next week, when we will get a lay from our prolific hare 2 Crabs.
Forgive me, Bearer of Hypocrisy, for I have Sinned. It has been three weeks since my last Hash Confession. I have had pure thoughts. I have thought of work and not of play. I have thought of the sun and not of darkness. I have thought of fields of flowing, green grass and not of mud. I have thought of the joys of intellectualism, and not the joys of the flesh. And I have thought of the outpouring of love, and not the overpouring of ale. For all of these things, I would like to express my profound regret. I come seeking forgiveness for my Hash Sins.
MY FOOLISH CHILD AND PAINFULLY PATHETIC BACKSLIDER, YOU WILL BE FORGIVEN. SHOW YOUR DESIRE FOR REPENTANCE BY RELEASING THE TIES THAT BIND YOU TO YOUR OTHERWORDLY DUTIES, SO YOU CAN ONCE AGAIN FEEL THE ECSTACY KNOWN AS FRIDAY NIGHT SHIGGY.
And so it was. I found salvation on the night of Friday, August 27, 2004... and it was Easy. All I had to do was drive to the familiar place known as Georgia Perimeter College. The last time I was here, I was wearing my Virgin Whites. Yes dearest reader, my first-ever trail started here. I realize there have probably been 500 trails from GPC since then. I missed them all. This time, instead of my Virgin Whites, I threw on my sh!ttiest clothes and joined the rest of the pack as we worshipped at the altar of the Southern Comfort Hash House Harriers.
Little Easy was our hare, and grabbed two people to join him: Ultra and Niplets. There was also talk of two water stops. So we prepared ourselves for what would probably transpire: A long trail, a painful set of checks and hamsterland, among the other usual joys.
Out of fear of persecution, I am going to refrain from listing the pack, since I will undoubtedly forget someone. But those who attended were heavenly, and a lot of those who attended were bimbos. At 7:25, the ambitious and the less-ambitious circled up. As it turns out, the bimbos would have to wait 2 1/2 hours to see any sign of the pack again.
First the hares, then us: across the parking lot and over a small bridge to the campus sports field. A check was found near the far corner, and the hounds spent many-a-minute looking for the next mark, but with no luck. Making matters worse was the football game going on in the stadium close by. The referees’ whistles ended up driving the pack insane. A wise hound finally broke down and approached two guys throwing a football in the field. They laughed and pointed us in the right d’erection.
Trail led into a creek, through a tunnel and out of the creek on the other side. In a moment of fear, I saw something I was trying so hard to forget: a huge field of flowing, green grass. We ran across it, and then into and out of a creek on the other side. More flowing, green grass led to more fear. Finally, we got into the creek for an extended stay. We would be in and out of this creek for more than an hour. Darkness fell upon us as we carefully navigated the rocky, uneven creek bottom. Even the crawdads were having difficulty.
After a couple more tough checks, it was out of the creek and out of the shiggy. The Mark of the Day was seen here, which was “RR.” Road Rage. I noticed that it prepared us for the assfault assault and took a lot of the pain away.
It was on the street that I finally knew my Hash Sins had been forgiven. That was here, disheveled, dirty and wet, that we ran past a Jehovah’s Witness Church. The congregation was just starting to leave. Some of them stared at me in confusion, and others looked away uncomfortably. Through the fence of the parking lot, a young child peered at me with wide eyes. She mumbled something. I think it was “Please save me from this hellish existence.” So on one side, there was the girl, trapped behind the fence, and trapped by a future that would include never-ending knocks on stranger’s doors, seeking other followers. On the other side, there I was, as free as I could be, not even encumbered by assfault and sidewalks. And to prove it, I once again disappeared into the trees.
Getting into the shiggy was simple. It was the check there on the cement that was difficult. 10 minutes later, we were following TP through a strip of forest, through a parking lot, and then behind… you guess it… another church. It was here that we finally dove into the hamsterland we had been waiting for. Briars ripped our legs, our arms and our clothes. At one point, my cranium had become entangled in a vine so large, I felt like I was wearing a Crown of Thorns. To escape this mess, we had to either scale a barbed-wire fence or crawl under it. Either way was less painful than the bloodletting we just experienced.
Down a big hill, we navigated another creek and dove under another fence. A second strip of Road Rage took us through a big parking lot, across a street and past a strip mall. And what was in this strip mall? A Worship Center. I had to laugh. Well, praise God, the BN appeared. There was much rejoicing as we reunited with the bimbos and the never-ending stream of beer. Some of us left the On In at about 11 while praying for two of our own who were still out on trail. But I guess that’s another story.
Thank you to everyone for a fine evening. My soul has been cleansed. See you next week, when we will get a lay from our prolific hare 2 Crabs.
# posted by L&F @ 6:09 PM 
