image001

To keep silent is indulging the crimes!

A lonely reduced dragonfly-shaped kite seems to be nailed in the dusky midair from a long arc line being chiselled by a local gray-headed player in a hillcrest pavilion of Ritan park, no wind! About 250 PM2.5 are hanging right over AQI. Bleary sun is blazing away at the cumuli of haze, alongside of him, there are several local elders playing cards with two handful of coins as gambling paraphernalia, where more than ten hashing runners take a break for a Hash Hold of pictures and many have a masked face. It’s reported that smog would last for upcoming a few days all the same.

On the way to be hashing, at least hearing two places to crack from a running fire of fireworks for traditional weddings. Meanwhile it’s occurred to me that during local ghost festival, a number of the locals commemorate their deceased kinfolks by burning a boodle of paper everywhere. The hashers slip along a littered-up hutong as billowing smoke is curling from coal-fired heater yonder. Pouring through CBD street to an artistic community where Bangs With No Mercy bumps into a Bangs Hair Salon to feel an intimacy and the hashers jam together a plat of highland for first beer stop. Somehow Molotov Cock perches on a high crotch of tree. Dry Hole and Oral Diarya as running hares have to wait for Pussy Nibble and Dickmocracy as walking hares to backpack bottles of beer shortly and having a group photo.

Some thrash about a way out for a mark like Lost in Marks & Spencer, Pickle Boy, Blister Fister and unknowns. Booming along down northern gate of Ritan park through two modern blocks and humping through a half of this park and getting out of western gate to make a big bend to edge in a taproom-filled tiny alley opposite northern gate. AutoBlow has gimped her way becomes another one spraining the ankle. Watch out! Hashers! Crossing the street to hit second beer stop from a supermarket. PN, Pikachu, unknown, etc buy snack to treat the hashers. Parcel of the hashers talk and drink for intermission for a while and some latecomers come aboard from nowhere. Agent Orgy deciphers her orgy’s meaning to Karate.

Shooting head-first off of in a street up-bound via a time-honored vernacular archway and a stream of traffic and rubbing the lamp into other alleyway and lighting out for different blocks and turning left into Worker’s Stadium for a little part and filing out of eastern gate to thwart a main street to draw a bead on an unimpressive stingy hutong and clear through to a freshening bizarre sculptures like good-sized reptile sticking out cardinal tongue, BF can’t help bending down to nestle on the tip of this ostentatious tongue. On top of it, under a quicksilver-like huge metallic stalactite, a point of Open Check baffles the hashers and finally DH has to point out an obscure narrow alleyway. Cutting through a residential zone and on right straight ahead to fetch up third beer stop for the runners only. Mussels from Brussels, Bearded Clam and unknown buy sipid peanuts to share the hashers. Red Snatcher snaps mugshots for many of hashers to make snippet-ish photomontage. Wisha! W7 shows up out of blue as latecomer, long-time-no-see, indeedy! Also Bunzilla from Shanghai and Spiking Viking who’s walker. Seems there are always endless conversations at beer stops. Time to move on. Bulleting through winding laneway to chase the mark up. The newcomer says except when souring on pollution, feel everything is okay all in good time. Soon looping to restaurant. A  pantheon of around forty hashers form a celebration rite at a wide passageway of business zone next to restaurant. When W7 flops down his motor oilskin canopy on the ground and erects a big airbag, AO makes no bones about diving into it for a shtick.

Two GMs and Two RAs in rotation are more likely to be ringmasters to officiate at hashers’s agenda. They are BC, PN, DH and LiM&S. Four newcomers are greeted with Hash song and rubber cock. Three latecomers and five long-time-no-sees accept figurative drinking punishment. MfB hollers some hashers in circle with paranoid jocosity, “Hat in circle! Hat in circle!…”, which jazzes up the spot. Circle K obtains his #25 patch and Hash bag. OD scores her #69 patch, in particular just now she tried to tote two cases of full beer on her jack like female knight. Sure thing, rare four hares are hailed in for birle time and again. A bunch of Song Masters cinch for their adroit might of seizing the moment with witty lyrics, such as Fetus Envy, DH, AO, Penis Tone and so on. Dazed & Confused jumps out to punish the hares to drink with a bedpan. Heart On as Hash Flash photographs every highlight. Whole scene chippers the hashers up at a stretch like Nowhere Man, Hard To Live With, Crash Test Dummy, Sweet & Furry, Finger My Dough, Just Yong, Just Kim, Bjorn Again, Khlitleesi, Colonize This, etc. A newcomer breathes a word of it, “Hilarious!” By the time two latest comers just for dinner spring up, e.g., Six Kuai Short recovering from his wricked ankle last time and Godzila Butt. The sunlight winks out by small and small into a dark environment. Some skip out beforehand. At the end, LiM&S leads a chorus of Swing Low all hands with a staving dream writhing in a freezing and unhealthy air. Nearly twenty hashers chaw local yummy meal in a warm compact indoors. Still more topic is on what the sockdolager is able to cipher out a regime to stop the smog makers without contrite hearts on stilts from bullyragging people. Poor devils!

On On…

Pickle Boy

Beijing. Tuesday,

December 08, 2015