Run #525, 4 JAN 97



(Ed. note: Down Under wanted to extend her thanks to the entire hashing community for your support during this difficult time. She appreciates all well-wishes, thoughts and prayers, and especially all who showed up for Nutdriver's wake last Saturday.)

And now on with the shoe. Considering the circumstances, a decent crowd gathered this fine Saturday afternoon ... and not at the Publix shopping center for fear of being towed, but rather, at the more congenial Home Depot, where forklifts and Christmas trees whizzed by.

The pack readily agreed to speed things up in order to make it to Nutdriver's wake, and we were off like a herd of turtles to the back of that great big orange home improvement center (aka, The Giant Money-Sucking Place). Of course, that was a backtrack. True trail was spotted by Niplets heading through the newly bulldozed construction site next to Home Despot, then down a treacherous hill behind someone's house, through a gully, and out onto some road which is not identified in my ADC Street Map of Atlanta (whatta piece o'shit...I want my money back!). From there, we ran willy-nilly. Or rather, hilly-willy-nilly. Up and down, through apartment complexes, in and out of woods, up and down some more, through a little shiggy, and then an invisible low-lying fence that tripped up the venerable Sky Pilot. Said Testiclees of this tragedy, "I was a good 100 feet behind, and all I saw was our GM toodling along, and then it was as if a rug had been pulled from under his feet ... I haven't laughed that hard in ages, watching someone magically fall flat on his face." Sky Pilot, being the gracious GM ("in ab-sen-she-ya") that he is, beat the living shit out of Testiclees for being disrespectful. Gotta discipline your children, lest they shoot you in the back, drive over your head, and steal your Eggo waffle.

But I digress.

Under I-285 we go ... oh no, not a tunnel! "Finally, I get my feet wet," proclaimed virgin Ted Simon. Now, this is the same virgin, who when signing in at the start, gave the name "Hassler" because he heard everyone else had a cool name and he wanted one too. Gotta love them virgins.

Into the woods we went again, crossed over Gilmore Road, then along some nice trails before popping out behind an office complex on S.Atlanta Road. Of course, it wouldn't be just any office complex. No, one of Screw Ewe's clients (or is that ex-client) has a shop there, and they graciously allowed us to use their bathrooms. Just don't ask what we used them for.

A short trail, everyone was On-In in about 40 minutes, except DFL's AHHH, Foreign Lesion, second-timer Steve Isenburg, and virgin Nick Kimmet. Down-Downs were given to the virgins, too-long-betweens Bitch with an Attitude, 4 Inch Hole, Brown Hole, Foreign Lesion, Kooler Killer, and AHHH. Pull My String downed one for not being able to find the hash the week before, and Back Seat Box got the teabag treatment for his new shooz (be sure to ask him about teabagging). Sky Pilot drank one in honor of his heading back to Indonesia, and I partook of the nectar of the gods ... wait a sec, that was Milwaukee's Beast ... well I downed one for PineLake being too-long-between Hashshits (way to go all you hares!).

There was no On-On, as most went to the wake.


Scribe: Rat's Ass