Well, first let me say that the Holiday Hangover Hash seemed to be a good time for all. However, apparently the pack has learned a few new things about their lovely GM, yours truly Deep Chocolate. First, when DC says the trail is “probably between 2 – 3 miles long,” what she’s really saying is “ha ha you bastards! The trail is really 5 or 6 miles long & uphill most the way!” The love showered upon me for this even produced a new song from a visiting Aloha hasher that goes something like this, “Deep Chocolate says the trail’s 2 miles long, liar, liar… liar, liar hare!” It was later determined by the pack that the reason I can’t tell what a true mile is is because I’ve been led to believe by men over the years that 3 inches is really 10 inches. Hmmm….

Anyhow, the pack gathered at Casa De La Chocolate on our first returnee Sunday. We were graced with a handful of visitors which included some from the Aloha H3, El Centro H3, & a hasher all the way from Japan . After giving a detailed (mostly) chalk talk & answering random (stupid) questions--- yes Fartacus, babies come from the stork—I sent the pack off on trail. My co-hare, Six Minutes Of Steve, & I waited at the beer check where as the pack made their way in I heard the first ramblings that perhaps my trail was not actually 2 miles long. The pack enjoyed some cold beers, then they were off on trail again. Trail led them through some random shiggy, through a shopping center parking lot, through a church, then eventually they all turned up in the Mormon Temple overflow parking lot where us hares awaited them with jello shots. Another random fact, apparently your sober GM can make a pretty mean jello shot. While lounging rather politely enjoying the view & the jello shots, the pack was greeted with Mormon Temple Security. The poor kid must have been about 19, nearly a Napolean Dynamite look-alike, complete with braces & his little Mormon outfit. He came strutting across the parking lot doing his best to look like he had authority & informed us were loitering on private church property. “Oh, we won’t be here long,” I smiled, “we’re just a running group out for a run & enjoying some water & jello while we wait for everyone. We’ll be on our way in 5 or 10 minutes.” Now perhaps you’ve learned from how I measure miles, I also can’t measure time because I don’t think the pack left in 10 minutes. Our Napolean Dynamite then noticed some writing that was complimenting my trail & calling me names & says to us, “And I’ll need you to clean off this graffiti.” “No problem,” the pack says, “it’s only chalk.” Napolean then reads it more carefully & says, “I assume it’s referring to the dogs ‘cause I see you have two female dogs with you.” Oh sure, yeah—the pack agrees. Napolean meanders away after we wash away the chalk & the pack enjoys a good laugh. Nipple Me Elmo belatedly wished she’d said the chalk refered to her then started humping his leg! From there the trail was nearly all downhill, but we found most of the pack walking—I guess several of my jello shots will take the run right out of you.

On-In was in my shiggy filled backyard, where we had a guest RA—Sir Trots A Lot from El Centro H3. There were the usual down-downs & some unusual suspects. Bitches Bitch merrily brought A Fish Called Wanda in for a new shoe down-down in retaliation for her having caught him a year before. After circle, we all moved into the house to warm up & hold our Tacky Elephant gift exchange. Some notable gifts were the glass boot mug Fartacus got, the down-down songbook Bitch was so happy to get, Kum Rad got a new pair of pants for if she ever balloons to three times her size, Captain Jerk has a lovely new toilet paper holder for haring trail, & after being stolen twice NME got the mega hash gift filled with lots of hash paraphernalia. A handful of us stuck around to eat lots of food, then the last of the pack left for peace or piece—whichever they prefer.