PHHH #957.9
Date: Sunday, October 12, 2003
Weather: Parched
Place: Hobler Park, Blawenburg, to Hand Solo's domicile
Time: 1:56
Hares: Nuttin Stuck, Hand Solo
Hounds: Pyroman, Speedbumps, Hey YO! Paully, The Red-Faced Chugger, Safe Sweats, Ouipee, 
Weatherman, Brian Craybill

Just Duet

Most bi-hared hashes involve couples from start to finish or, on occasion, a relay, seen most 
often in the brilliant hardcores by Pyro and Wouypei and Rambo and Huejpj.  But Hand and NS, 
happily established in committed relationships, were looking for a little excitement in the 
hounds' lives.  So NS swung one way from Hobler Park, lurching about the fields and leading 
the pack past some intemperate Blauwenburgher, across 518 to a wonderful housing construction, 
dreaming of walk-in closets and jacuzzis to be.  This featured some fine, firm, brownstone 
peaks, three checkmarks within the diameter of a dodgeball circle, and many confused hares, 
searching in vain for the way to go.  But the blue heron in the prehistoric streambed wasn't 
telling, and only the Chugger decided to check out the strange man in the red car, parked 
anonymously in a future cul de sac.  She got all the beer, calling in vain to Weatherman and 
Weapei, who found the true trail to the dilapidated campus of the New Jersey Home for the 
Very, Very Nervous, where they were met by another stranger seeking an assignation.

    Hand swung in another direction, dominating the pack, now sans the Mill Hill WC, who had 
concluded they could score with less stress back home. There were some shady woods, at long 
last, especially for the morons who had ignored the beercheck, and long dusty fields, 
reminiscent of Natural Born Lesbian's virgin set, and then roads.  Quite a bit of road, 
actually, and anyone with half a mind would have stayed on them instead of following marks 
up and down the adjacent hill en route to Hand's house.  No one's humor was improved by NS's 
ever-demented laughter and beercheck a quarter mile from the on-in, no one saw the squirrel 
grasping the deer scapula in extremis, no one got to pound the living crap out of the punk 
kids who had allegedly harassed the co-hare minutes earlier, so Wouipee flour-bombed the car 
of AA's finest pilot at the on-in.

    And what an on-in it were on the deck of the Solo domicile: turkey burgers, veggie burgers, 
home-made chili featuring chickpeas as well as beans, beer, water, Hand's happy dog, an arm-in-arm 
down-down by the hares, and convivial conversation led by Nuttin Stuck's reasoned ruminations on 
the mating habits of New Jersey's SWFs.  It wasn't as good as hearing LRF on SWFs, but wankers 
can't be choosers by definition.

Next: PHHH #958.9 Did he or didn't he? Madame Butterfly returns, or maybe he doesn't but this 
reporter doesn't know because he wasn't there.