PHHH #1118.9 Date: Sunday, October 29, 2006 Place: Community Park and Princeton boro Weather: Temper tantrum Time: 48 minutes plus 10-30 minutes for various morons Hare: Wipy, with all-too-brief assistance by Dr. Jian Guo, all-too-published postdoc theoretical chemist Hounds: Pushner Maybe (as A. G. Zaire disguised as Pushner Maybe, Throatwarbler Mangrove and Good Will Hashing Mangrove (as two Canadians looking for donuts), Hey YO! Paully (as something to do with semen that I've mercifully forgotten), Speed Bumps, Pyroman, Oliver the Wonder Dog (as 3 hoods from da hood wit da bling bling thing workin), Bjorn Dork on a bike, Ksilent Knight (as a white knight in a shining clean condom), Dancing Fool (as himself), Exploding Feet (as the Masked Marvel), Keyless Entry (as a TV character I didn't recognize, but she was dressed in red), Warren Baelen (also a character, dressed partly in red but at least dressed), Mandy Knox (sorry, but she brought her husband tho she didn't bring the bling). Virgins: Ehren Newman the thief, Tim Knox the husband, Tom the pharmaceutical Cook, Birgit Meiser the thief's lover Visitor: Eurotrash, Rumson evangelist Seen at the On-In: Keeva Kaese Descriptions, Polemics, and Lies: This ain't no Rumson hash And it weren't no Princeton hash neither, what with a pack a' wankers dressed up and loping about acres of pavement, running thisaway thataway except for Dancing Fool who headed straight for the 50-cent coffee at WaWa's before reappearing at the on-in with a chainsaw. But I run ahead of myself. To be sure there were the usual PHHH idiocies, like following marks into the park under shiggy and across a stream, 180 degrees from the obvious direction into town: it's practically Halloween, half the pack has actually dressed for the occasion, and Pushner Maybe has upstaged the Mangroves' biannual appearance with his cicadan-cycle return, having reappeared from the depths of the Great Bear Swamp Hard Korpse hash of '98 (princetonol. com/groups/ phhh/archive/ 647.4.txt) , 471.5 hashes ago. There was the usual misdirection in the Princeton ghetto, not to be confused with new Hash ghetto (see below), where several tyros and amateurs confused the hare's thorough chalking of true trail with the boro's thorough use of chalk-flavored spray paint to the medical center. Some hounds took advantage of Wipee's promotion of the imminently evaporating Quark Park on Paul Robeson Place to enjoy more hanging glass balls than Paully could shake his stick at, while others went straight to Witherspoon. It was a coin toss; having trekked through the park's fierce bamboo shiggy into the garage, Mandy, Keyless Entry, and other unmentionables "spent some time there. . . a lot of time, actually." Have you no eyes with which to see? Well, some saw the "MMM" chalked in front of the Lindt chocosweets store in Palmer Square, some never followed the loop to Witherspoon and back via the Small World alley to the tiger statue regroup, but a fair number made it across Nassau Street where they vogued in competition with a wedding reception's inferior costumes in front of Nassau Hall. Another tiger, through a kiss from Picasso, a true trail in the direction of the infamous Delicate Psyche mark left from the reunion hash, another splash past the Wilson center, a tour of the E Quad. . . Could it go to 87 Prospect? No one took that bait and switch, but Warren shortly realized by Wild Oats that the on-in had to be at 1 Madison, the darkest heart of the new Hash Ghetto. Others had mark-comprehension disabilities appear in alarming numbers: surely a check mark or "Beer Neer" at the intersection of Wiggins and Madison means an on-in at, gee, it could be at Full Moon Smiling's, tho she's in Thailand having her knees replaced; or it could at the hare's on Humbert, tho no one admitted to finding the F on his entrance; or it could be down the black-asphalt road to the lair where Keeva lay in wait. That's it--the ancient PHHH wisdom of never check downhill held up the young and the useless. Nonetheless, a jolly time was had by all on the porch, in the yard, on various members' laps, with seaweed-flavored potato chips and other Asian treats, Dancing Fool's bagel and cream cheese collection, and beer. In fact, so much beer that even Paully couldn't drink all of it or bring it all home for his child Bubbleboy. Dancing Fool demonstrated 25 Don'ts with a Chainsaw while he failed to bisect a pumpkin and down-downs were eventually recalled for the virgins, for the hare, and for Good Will Hunting's second hash (the first run almost as long ago as Pushner Maybe's), in which he manfully chugged a cup of cranberry ginger ale before dousing his dad with the dregs. Non-alcoholic beverages for the underaged? Eurotrash forgot to mention that big difference with the Rumson hash when he worked every page in the Dianetics/Scientolo gy/Latter Day Saints/Watchtower/ Grit/Girl Scout Cookie recruiting book trying to persuade Weeipiie to the advantages of hashing twice a week. Enough mindless twaddle--which one of you stink-fingered, onion-brained, no-account wankers is setting tomorrow?