PHHH hash #1185.9

Date: Sunday January 27, 2008

Weather: Winter sons

Hare: Hey YO! Paully

Place: 18 Stonerise A-A

Time: 65 minutes

Hounds: Hare in my Zipper, WeePee, Keeva Kaese, EpiPenis, Hand Solo, 
Delicate Psyche, Keyless Entry

Description, Polemics, and Lies:

Hey YO! Paully stared at his screen in disbelief before idly 
switching to the air bags thumbnail site. Damn that Weepee, always 
causing trouble. Setting once every ten hashes doesn't wash with him? 
Try being married to someone with short-woman syndrome and juggle two 
pre-schoolers while scouting trail. Well, there was no way around it-
-he'd have to ask her.

Upstairs, he found Juicy lying in a pool of her own sweat from the 
flu in the darkened bedroom.

"Val?"

"What is it, Paul?"

Never a good sign with that tone of voice.

"The PHHH needs a hare tomorrow. Is it okay if I . . .?"

A pause. Hey YO! Paully braced himself.

"Sure, whatever. Why not? The boys are as sick as I am so they're 
not going anywhere. Go ahead, enjoy yourself."

Wow, the antidepressants in her garlic mashed potatoes must have 
kicked in.

"Thanks a lot, Val. Want any more of the scallops?

Juicy vomited in the bowl by the bed.

"I'll pass this time, thanks."

And so the Hash went on, and on, the hounds gamboling through the 
backyards of Stonerise Court, carrying an array of noisemaking infant 
toys that more than compensated for the absence of Rambo's whistle 
and Rojo's penis gourd. Out over the abandoned antenna fields of 
IT&T, getting stuck for marks only in the area marked off for 
environmental sensitivity, they returned to the domestic bliss of 
suburban Lawrenceville and its community pool in jig time. Epipenis 
and Keeva made rare appearances and were surprisingly fit, which 
would have come in extra handy had Paully set his standard 
equinoctial- solsticial trail. But the inverse trail laws applies to 
him as well, with the less time to think about a trail resulting in a 
simpler one that actually finishes within the time promoted on the 
website.

So, everyone was in a festive mood at the backyard on-in. Paully 
served up some very sweet scallops that didn't need much salt, pink 
and brown marshmallows, Ouipee's leftover beer and iced tea left over 
from Hare in my Zipper's set, and the pack took turns launching the 
toys and rotten pumpkin fragments over the Mlodzinskis' back 40 
square yards.

In fact all went so peaceably that HYP brought down Bubbleboy to 
smile wistfully through the glass doors at the merriment, and then, 
to everyone's astonishment, we saw Juicy, recovered from her 
sickbed. What's more she was smiling--shades of Garbo Laughs! 

It was all too good to be true, and sure enough young Ziggy confirmed 
it. Seated in his chair next to Bubbleboy's, he stared at the antics 
of the strange tall and hairy people. His older brother tried to 
explain the funny behavior, but Ziggy is his mother's son. No, Ziggy 
was not amused. In fact he assumed a mien of Grave Concern as another 
formerly favorite toy was launched skyward and Wipi regurgitated 
brown marshmallows. We can only imagine his first words, should he 
ever accept the sacramental bag of flour and lay trail for the first 
time, echoing those of Juicy on #654.4 
(www.princetonol. com/groups/ phhh/archive/ 654.4.txt) : "I'm really 
worried about this set."

And he'd be right.