hash write up

So the hash was to be in Middletown, and naturally the pack was to
gather at Pencader Plaza in Newark. But first, transpo had to be
arranged for visiting hasher Yorky Porky, stuck in housing for the
criminally insane, otherwise known as the Marriott in Wilmington, a
place to be somebody (where the somebody is criminally insane). Having
sent the Hare to Wilmington to gather (apparently in lieu of setting
trail) the vagabond hasher, the hare returned to Pencader to pick up
hobbling John, coordinate with others of the pack, and soon arrived in
Middletown at the scene of a new running store that honors hashers with
foot stickers on the front and hash paraphenalia inside. Even Crash
Test Dummy was welcome within, if even only to be shown the back door,
where Hare Vasoline Alley was joined by the rest of the slobbering pack,
LikNstik, Butthead, Hanna Job, Dirty Wet Pussy, and the formerly
mentioned Yorky Porky and stumbling John, and of course, Crash Test. We
then went out front, to a prominent location at the corners of Rte's 299
and 71, and across from two of the finer officers in parked cars, one
unmarked, who of course were consuming donuts and coffee with windows
open and whilst immersed in conversation, and we had chalk talk. Alas,
there was no chalk for sample marks at the chalk talk, and we quickly
gathered as we set on "trail" such lack of chalk was fully appropriate,
as said marks on trail matched in every way those of the chalk talk
circle, and any citings or sightings were truly the result of the
imagination of the pack rather than of deliberate action of the hare.
Fortunately, BH had committed the grand crime of cell phone on trail,
and after several mis-directions and calls, we eventually found "trail"
near Silver Lake Park. Eventually we crossed 299 and found stumbling
john with hare and beer. We drank, kicked hare out who promised marks
for the balance of trail, and drank some more. Then we progressed,
found two on marks, a check, a false, and no other marks, whence we
propositioned several corner standers, each of whom assured me they had
seen no flour or chalk, and suggested I turn in to the local chapter for
the Hour of Power, where many locals were enroute. Lacking energy for
an hour of power, and feeling thirst set in, the pack joined me in
evacuating towards Rte 71, though LikNStik, comfortable in her
surroundings and her Santa Claus suite, needed extra coaxing along lest
she exchange gifts with the locals. Soon, we found our way back to the
alley leading behind the runner's store, found owner Just Tina, and
toasted the hares with special offerings from the select beers VA had
arranged for us, none of which were recognizable to any of the pack.
Much beer was consumed, and soon a Pacifica and (ooops) Hanna Jobs
corral joined us. We then commenced to the nearest pub, North Street
bar, but dismayed at food quality and service, we took leave early and
commenced to the Sandbar, where Gary (formerly of East End), and Doug
and Chris of Margherita's joined in our frivolity. And a good time was
had by all.
Other items of note: Yorky Porky was returned to his Wilmington
lodgings by yours truly.
Devil Woman, whilst in Middletown, declined to hash as she was well
engaged in preparing a class presentation, a marathon far exceeding the
summed efforts of the hashers of the day. For competitive behavior she
surely earned a down down at next circle.

My apologies for omissions and emissions, reported just as I experienced
it.

On on,

Butthead.