PHHH #1150.9 Date: Sunday, June 3, 2007 Weather: In unison Locale: 87 Prospect to the Geezerheim via West Windsor fields Time: 65 minutes, plus 15 for Safe Sweats and Sherry Trifle Hare: Ouipee Hounds: Hey YO! Paully, Keyless Entry, Epipenis, Delicate Psyche, Hare in my Zipper, Safe Sweats, Sherry Trifle, Marquis de Sade ‛wayback when (try 508.4, among others), I'm Too Desperate ‛97 (co-hare and boytoy with Rojo and Glory the Wonder Dog on 578.4), Jesse Hammons ‛97 (rookie hash 592.4), Eddie Rubais ‛97 (rookie hash 594.4) Seen off a bike for two at Small World and allegedly at the start: Pyroman and Speedbumps Descriptions, Polemics, and Lies: Auf Weidersehn, Geezerheim The room was moving as Mait "Geezer" Jones lead the trio in one blazing version of songbook standards after another: "Summertime, " "It's Only a Paper Moon," "Have You Met Miss Jones?" . . . They all fell prey to Geezer's free-style twists in meter and pitch, and now he led Charlap and Brackeen's piano duet in a two-step to the peaked ceiling's flickering shadows for the Duke's "East St. Louis Toodle-oo." Up, up, up, he went, the crowd clapping in awe and delight. Everyone who was anyone in Princeton had come out to the big house by the Stony Brook Refuge: Shapiro, Tilghman, Preston, Morrison, Grafton, their faces shining with sweat and admiration. No one played jazz ocarina better than the Geezer, and he was on fire this evening. "Man, the cat's got it going," Wynton tapped fists with Harry in the front row, trading that knowing look between two masters catching a third in the zone. The pianists strained to keep up with the ocarina's remorseless climb; Geezer closed his eyes to channel a final bar. Here it comes. . . "Geez-air!" The thick fingers of the Cuban Assassin glanced off the side of his head, waking him from his reverie. He fumbled for his glasses in the grass by the beach chair and scrambled to his feet. "Well, good afternoon, Assassin, to what do I owe the pleasure? What would you like in a glass? We're fresh out of Havana Club, but Susan and I just brought back some of Garrison's Jalapeño ale from Halifax. Even the Maritimes can bring you a bit of heat from home." Geezer tried to laugh heartily at his jape, but the sight of the figure behind the the big Cuban left him hollow and cold. Wherever A. G. Zaire walked on the colonial bentgrass and blue fescue populating Geezer's new lawn, it curled up and died. "I'd like to compliment you on the new domicile, Geezer, but we need some answers related to the old one. "Ouipee held the reunion on-in there this afternoon. The pack was pretty good—three former morons making it big in binaries, and Marquis de Sade and Sherry Trifle were so entertained by his set two years ago that they came back from LA for this one. Even Safe Sweats finished the trail, though whether that says something for him or the match stick remains to be seen. But everybody, even the hapless Epipenis, noticed the broken window, the crumbling plaster, the gutted garden, the missing sink in the kitchen. "And," Zaire hooked Geezer's frayed LaCoste collar with his prosthetic claw and brought him up close and personal with the mastermind's blood-filled cornea, "everybody noticed that Paully gave everyone a free pass, leaving Ouipee out to dry for not a half-bad on- in. "There's a lack of discipline, Dr. Jones, reflected in your housecare and your leadership. We'll leave your vandalism to the tender mercies of the university's legal department, but the Hash. . . . Suffice it to say that when the Assassin and I return from a visit with Rambo in Diyala, we expect a significant improvement in comportment behind 87 Prospect. Capisce?" The claw and associated titanium-carbon fiber joints whirred and spun the professor to the ground, and when he looked up, his visitors were nowhere to be seen. But the footprints in the grass remained—if only in one direction. Next: Wednesday, Hare in my Zipper makes another febrile attempt at marking a Wednesday night hash without entering the hall of infamy overstuffed by Safe Sweats and Hand Solo. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- PS . . . find the rack! get the noose! the whip and the canes! Wipi has broken the only law of hash writeups deserving of capital punishment! It is not enough that he writes blasphemously boring fictional accounts, but to write them about his own debacle is revolting, demeaning, and dangerous to the tender sprouts that make up our young hash. We need true populist depictions about our heroics in crossing lake carnegie, fighting off dog eating ticks and man eating dogs, and teaching our revolutionary style of hashing to newcomers from around the globe. Our movement is ill served by this ancestor-worshippin g, old style writeup that shows just how far up Geezer's anus Wipi's nose has become lodged. Who is Geezer anyway? A true writeup of yesterday's run would have included a flyby of HTC, aka Homoerotic Tick Checking, on his merry way to his grandparents and then back to campus for the baccalaureate programming. He told me that he'd surely return the day that Wipi stopped writing these nonsensical writeups. Further investigation led me to ask Suicide Watch, who has not been seen on trail since the last time we OnIn'ed behind this "Geezerheim" . Though Wipi's conspiracy theory is that her departure from hashing has something to do with a certain hand placement on that day (supposedly captured on camera), my interview with her proved otherwise, as she said to me, "it was the writeups. i cannot give my heart and soul to a hash who's recent history is being plucked like the youthful innocent cherry that it is by a man with grandiose schemes and dreams of war heroes, villians, italian mafia, and so on. i don't think wipi respects our individuality and the true spirit of each of our half-minds." We want truth in adverstizing. We want Exploding Feet's name to never be "accidentally" left off a runlist again! We want representation to go with the taxation. Doesn't it make anyone else nervous that Wipi keeps our hard earned hash fortune in a sock by his bedside? Down with AGZaire and the rest of Wipi's fantasies! Up with the hash of today! The hash of the future!