PRINCETON HHH HASH #352.4

Date: March 15, 1992
Weather: Portentious; lions whelping in the streets, Pompey’s statue running blood
Set by: The Louisiana Reptile Fancier
Hashers:  Wacko, The Geezer, 8-Ball, Dogshrinker, Throatwarbler, Fluke, Andri.
Rookies: Stacey Colella, Rochelle Andri’spal
First To Cooler:  Joe Burns

The Ides of March Redux or....

The Tragedy of “JULIUS GAEZER”

Description, comments, polemics, and lies: 

The soothsayer crept in furtively, a thing of rags barely identifiable as human. It might 
have been the ghost of once-mighty Toxic Waste himself: 

	“In March, beware the Ides!”

	“At the end of your rides,
	You’ll make your strides,
	(On size-12 wides),
	And scratch your hides,
	Endure mud slides;
	Till, with wounded prides,
	You’ll wish for guides,
	To the bonafides!”

	
He vanished without a trace, and we, blocks, stones, worse than senseless things that 
we are, made our collective ways to the start, the end of Wacko’s #317.4, and the last 
time we ever saw the Man From Monrovia. Still another evil portent, and even the 
veterans were nervous as the LRF went into his normal meandering tirade at the start. 
The usual fables of seas of thorns, and oceans of swamps were embelished with tales 
of mysterious triple double crosses, weird regroups, and other arcana too complicated 
for the assembled nearly brain dead, even if they had not been paralyzed by the 
soothsayer’s fearful rhymes. 

Suddenly the soothsayer reappeared, “Cowards die many times before their deaths; the 
valiant never taste of death but once!” Cried he, and off we were into the depths of the 
floodplain surrounding Devil’s Brook, a faint echo of the soothsayer’s last words in our 
ears,

	“If you stray,
	And lose your way,
	You will see,
	The House of Shih!”



A mistake, of course, because it all came true; The triple double cross led to a 
wasteland of pond and swamp from which we were rescued only by Andri’s dim 
recollection of marks on a backcheck.  A true hasher, she; may Your Scribe be 
pardoned for wondering why it took her 15 minutes to let the wandering pack know this 
news? Perhaps she was only trying to protect us from what lay ahead; a vast vista of 
viscous mud and a veldt of vicious vines. It was the Geezer who made the best time, 
contemptuous of Regroups, laughing at poor Wacko and 8-Ball marooned on the wrong 
bank of Devil’s Brook, and heedless of the ravages of thorns. And so it was also he who 
was the recipient of the nastiest rebukes at the ON IN.  After one particularly sharp 
comment from The Flukester, the Geezer, wounded to the quick, replied, “Et tu, Fluké?” 
and expired. 


Next Hashes:

#353.4    Sun, Mar. 22, 2 pm Solo sets. 
#354.4    Sun, Mar. 29, 2 pm Dr. No sets. 
#355.4    Sun, Apr. 5, 2 pm Throat Warbler sets. 
#356.4    Sun, Apr. 12 , 2 pm Wacko sets.