So, Hares Ginormous Clitoris and Superdome took us to their home turf to take us on a run around Tamsui. There was road, there was beach, there was nary a mountain in sight.(Well, technically there were mountains *in sight*, but we weren’t running on them. You know what I mean. Its a figure of speech ok? Jeez, get off my case. Pedants.)
Our well-endowded and sexually proficient GM filled in as co-hare at the last minute as Face Down Ass Up lived up to her name so well she’s still out of action some weeks later. She’s got a gammy (Irish translation:shitty) Ankle. A gankle if you will: it looks similar to a cankle but doesn’t actually function.
The run was short, sweet and the checks were tricky but solvable, and the only elevation was the Lovers Bridge at the end. ( Allegedly there was forest, but other than some scrub around some farmers fields… I do not recall much of that?) I have decided that I don’t like flat runs, as they mean I am forced to actually run, and who the hell enjoys that?
I arrived at the run start around 1.30 to the sight of GC peering anxiously at the road like a mother hen looking out for her chicks; or to use a less farmer-y simile: Like a teenager who has rented the hall, hung the balloons and gotten all dressed up and now is waiting nervously to see if any of the other kids are going to show up to the party.
After the run the spectre of Christmas reared up again, with a turkey Curry from GC that -Despite bearing an uncanny resemblance to my shits that time I ate the 2 day old dumplings i’d forgotten to put in the fridge- was deliciouos.
Our committed and dynamic GM set a new personal best that day: With Downdowns going on for an estimated 47 years. 9 people lost appendages to frostbite, and several of the older hashers succumbed to the inescapable ravages of time.
It was all worth it though as a grand new hash tradition was instituted, one which incited lust and resentment in equal measure: whereby Shy Stripper has to remove one article of clothing for every downdown he recieved. Yes, he was naked by the end. yes, he may well have contracted pneumonia. Yes, the general consensus was that that was fine, still totally worth it.
Ex-Gms Slobbo Tamer an Teenvulf rocked up post-run thoroughly langers (Irish translation: Drunk) S.T ensured I did my apparently weekly drinking from a shoe, and Teenvulf said something about something that was as hilarious as it was coherent.
Lara Crotch took stylish running apparel to new levels of coordination with a jazzy yellow and blue ensemble, and MICHAEL J FOX was back on the scene, camera in hand and flashing! I missed his run photos. Looking at run pics just isn’t as enjoyable without a MJF selfie every 3 photos to break up the monotony of runners running and looking sweaty and dishevelled.
Just Una was finally given a name: She is now known as Sun Yat Seen It All, for her toilet based flashing antics, And Sourkrauts replacement Pussykraut showed the role of ridiculously German person is in safe hands.
After Downdowns t was on to the bash where people ate drank and made merry, and then some fools went on to Tamsui MRT for the on after. The usual suspects, with beer pyramid who stuck it out til the bitter fucking end.
Speaking of which: The End.
Chalk My Tits
The trashiest Hash Trash since Hash Trash First Flashed
Tamsui – Fisherman’s Warf
A to A
Number of Runners