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November 8, 1998

R*n #8:
Venue:
Woodfield Mall, Schaumburg
Hares: EZ Sunday

World Record Turn-Out of 18 for 2nd City Hash at Woodfield Mall

Yer-Anus & A Hare to Be Named Later laid a very fine trail from the northwest corner of the intersection in the southeast corner of Woodfield Mall.  Last time we started there we haunted many of the local parking garages, it was cold and rainy, there were many beer stops, and we f'd around at the finish outdoors until we all died of hypothermia.  This time there wasn't any rain, beer on trail or parking garages, but it was still cold and we still f'd around outdoors until everybody died of pneumonia, so if the next couple of r*ns are kind of under-attended you should go and spit on Yer-Anus's grave; I'm going to just as soon as the doctors will let me.  There were many fine hashers in attendance (Yer-Anus and Doug; Soar Balls, EZ, Speckie, Buffalo Nuts & Rearguard, Golden, Unzip Me & Cupcake, Gaseous, Cockstrapper, Coxswain Coxsout, Full Term, Virtually Hung, Dainty, and Little Pink Head Cheese-All Talk-No Shit-Can't Cut It-Whip It, Whip It Good-I Hate Hootie-Deerslayer-Warm Busch...Damn It!), some posers, and some late arrivers who couldn't tell time or decipher which corner of the mall to start from.  One of the late arrivals was Speckie, who magically appeared at the end as though we had conjured him by talking about him.  This could be useful in some situations:  say you needed a fourth for bridge, and you had the time and patience to teach Speckie to play bridge, or you were being chased across the frozen tundra by ravenous wolves and were looking for someone meatier and slower to fill their bellies.  Use caution though:  I wouldn't try it in polite company, high society, or at the character portion of your hearing, eh.  The trail:  went under the tollway and into the Busse Forest Preserve and generally ran into and out of the woods along the bike trail and beside the lakes and through the parking lots and over some highways and did I mention the bike trail?  Yer-Anus's co-conspirator (we'll call him "Dave") laid some trail through a particularly stickery portion of brush which left much of the pack festooned with particularly stickery stickers.  Dainty's lovely leotards were festooned more than most, making her legs appear as hairy as Cockstrappers' (there's a vision for ya). During the long and boring stretches of trail we amused ourselves by flinging Soar Balls' foam-filled football forth and back, until Gaseous "The Noodle Arm" Clay flung it into a pondSoar Balls was so upset after rescuing the foamed floater he took his soggy ball and wasn't seen again for a long, long time.  The hares advertised an eagle and turkey trail and one exceptionally long false trail, but ran out of time to complete the turkey trail; probably because they spent so much time marking the exceptionally long falsie which Pole Pounder and Cockstrapper dutifully followed.  The last third of our sentence consisted of more bike trail with occasional diversions and checks which all agreed should have gone away from the bike trail but didn't.  Then, just when the front r*nners ( Cockstrapper, Coxswain, Virtually Hung, Dainty, & PP) were wishing for more pavement to pound, our wish was granted by this message penned across the path:  "follow the yellow line."  (Now why didn't we wish for beer, or sun, or wheeled vehicles?)  So we followed said line and arrived at the end to find the poser Unzip Me & his sweetie Cupcake with the hares trying to stay warm around a little outdoor grill.  I was deeply disappointed to find out the grill was for warmth and not for cooking, though my sadness was somewhat lessened when Yer-Anus broke out the Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies (without which, no Anus r*n is complete).  The pack dribbled in in groups of two and three to huddle around the meatless BBQ.  No one was left to die, cold and alone, though there was some discussion as to whether or not the hares should have been.  Many down-downs were performed for fashion violations:  cross-dressing, head-dressing, and new shoe wearing.  After the last ounce of heat left our lifeless bodies we adjourned to Chevy's (a nice place in the southeast corner of the intersection at the northwest corner of the mall) where we ate, drank and were merry until the checks came and the pack left.  To cap the evening, Dainty bought drinks for the table, an event which occurs about as often as the appearance of Haley's comet.  There weren't many left by then, but it was a touching and noble gesture nonetheless.

 - PP, faithful hashscribe in exile

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