Before trail even began, SOH4 has established that we are a drinking club with a counting problem as we skipped run 36 (or the analversery counted twice, or we have some especially fuzzy memories of a trail no one remembers). And speaking of fuzzy memories, this was also the Ithaca Oz-themed Lions & Trails & Beers weekend recovery hash…

“But it wasn’t a dream. It was a place. And you and you and you… and you were there. But you couldn’t have been could you?”

Over fifty of us showed up at Coleman’s in Tipp Hill sporting our finest pajamas and bedhead for the Strangest Dream Slumber Party aka Happy Trails aka the Divorce Trail. Among others, Genital Manager and Floppy showed off their robes, Beemer sported Captain America jammies, and Just Ginny and Cum and Feel It sported some stylish nightwear.

Not sure if he knew it was the theme for the night or just what he runs in normally, but Virgin Just Rick showed up in a nighty. Oh and we learned Pocket Full of Lube still has the pocket full of, presumably, the same lube. Some new fuzzy memories would be made this night…

Hares OTD, Slip, and Beemer started things off with chalk talk and dreadful flour penmanship. PCP received the shovel of shame for accidental firewalking / second-degree hot pants at Ithaca Weekend… but accordingly was unable to run trail and PA took the shovel as surrogate.

And we were on out for the Happy Trails, and as all divorces begin at at a church, that was our first stop. Despite handing out 9 bottles of bubbles, half-minds were unable to blow them at the song check behind the church as instructed two minutes prior. Perhaps the song check was just that amazing… for those of you who missed it, it’s a long story but Jesus (and Jonah, and Job, among others) unfortunately still cannot go hashing for a variety of reasons. I’m sure this topic will come up again.

And then it was onto the closeby ‘honeymoon’ check, where it’s possible that without first-time-at-SOH4 (and hopeful kennel adoptee?) out-of-towner Lickalottapuss we would all still be standing. On out to the first BN at Oompa’s Pizzeria, with most failing to note the connection to Ithaca’s Oz weekend theme. Sigh. At the BN we enjoyed pizza, learned that marriage licenses expire in NY in sixty days, and found out that Venus was actually sporting her exceptionally plain wedding night outfit for trail. Tweedle again told a joke while nearly falling off a chair, as did others (in fact telling jokes and nearly falling off chairs).

Next trail stop was Stone Thrower’s Park near the upside down traffic light, as clearly at this point in a divorce trail things were not going as planned and it was time for a beverage. After on-out from that check an impromptu appropriate-for-the-nights-theme on trail rendition on Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together” occurred.

Trail would go through an arboreum before ending up in the second BN in Myrtle Cemetary… however, some hashers elected to hop the fence rather than follow true trail while other half-minds simply had trouble running. Somewhere along the way, Just Ginny, fully sober and of sound mind, decided that she no longer liked her pajamas and that it would be a good idea to get rid of them via a hash crash that turned them into bloody, ripped shreds.

The second BN was the end of the combined trail for the evening, and a special circle of “I’ve ____ on trail” down-downs was held for mostly acceptable hash behavior to allow time for live hare Slip to get a head start. However, the shovel of shame was also transferred to Just Ginny for her truly epic hash crash, and same shovel also served as a vessel of choice for her down-downs the rest of the evening. As for the accusations about who had done what in their hashing career on trail and in circle, a small group of hashers had a sizable number of down downs.

Logically, a divorce trail has to end with those going their separate ways. From here the trail split into Beemer’s hares trail and Slip’s harriette trail… in theory anyway, as most harriettes were drawn into Beemer’s magnetic personality, charm, wit, and natural Fultonian odor and ended up taking his trail instead, leaving poor Slip waiting by herself at the halfway point without any/many harriettes to keep her company. Our poor RA, so lonely and lonely alone.

Everyone eventually stumbled back for circle. We met four virgins, down downs were handed out for various offenses including DNA on trail during last week’s analversary hash, Lickalottapuss reminded everyone that we do not point (aka digitize) because we don’t (or do) know where fingers have been and that future instances would be down downs, and then it was onto namings. Demonstrations of a banana show and harriette-on-harriette doggy style with pepperoni stick were provided as part of evenings acceptable hash behavior.

Namings: We had multiple quorums on names this week! Just Stephanie was named Pink Taco as that was her costume name for Underwear Day a couple hashes back. Just Rick was named Flying Semen for his naval aviation, or at least that’s what he said he’s telling his grandkids. Just Bob was named Ezra Both Ways for a variety of reasons, the sharable one being that Bob is a palindrome (heh heh just noticed Ezra backwards is Arze); remember unnamed hashers, we do pay attention to your answers in circle! And finally, after whittling list of names down from seemingly hundreds, Just Ginny was named Shark Week for the state of her bottoms in second half of trail and circle.

On-after in Coleman’s for OTD’s divorce / happy trails party where chocolate covered strawberries, champagne, cookies, and crackers were served along with lots and lots of beverages. By some miracle we actually cleared out most of a section of Coleman’s and it turned into a singalong of, among others, Yogi Bear, Glorious Victorious, a couple verses of Chicago, and round two of Jesus Can’t Go Hashing. The evening gets increasingly fuzzy from that point…
“And I can decide while I’m alive I’ll feel alive and what happens next I guess I’ll know when I’ve, gotten there…”

Respectfully submitted,
One Trick Dick