Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain. By spreading knowledge to solidify into a credibility and affection in the midst of humankind.
On 13 February, the eve of Saint Valentine’s Day demonstrates a love for righteousness and purity not only between the opposite sex, but also among the same sex called brotherhood and sisterhood, as well as for an Agape – divinity’s love to earthlings, aka a love feast held by Early Christian. Three Hash saints, Dry Hole, Herr Splashy Pants and Pickle Boy team up to hare a holy Hash event for a great love in a windy and chilly day. Even though little more than twelve hashers bear witness to ascription on site, believe that much more hashers who are being busy with their lives everywhere else stay with the love in diversified fashions to enjoy a good time, as a hasher. Sensational!
It’s also the 6th day of a 15 days of holiday for Chinese New Year, most stores don’t open the doors yet. A cut-and-dried shop for the second beer stop too is closed even as the hashers get to there, which urges the hashers to rush out a new one provisionally and with good luck charm, soon finding out a shop nearby and afterwards three walkers led by walking hare PB catch up. By coincidence, four hashers have quite close birthdays such as Blister Fister, Just Tess (a virgin), Finger My Dough and PB on this very day. A hasher exclaims, “Happy birthday! Happy New Year of the Monkey!” PB rebuts, “Chinese zodiac is all animals. I don’t wanna be animal. I wanna become human creature. We all four must be same star sign called Aquarius. Let’s say, happy Aquarius!” From a perspective of Hash pictures on WeChat later, somewhat giant figure sculptures exhibit a characteristic for a running trail, coupled with a park and the winding alleys and empty-ish streets. The marks of Open Check has turned into the shape of a love and embellished ornate red cordate signs.
Crash Test Dummy as always just shirts himself to run the first part and changes to walk after the first beer stop where the walkers and runners almost arrive all together. The sun plays a peekaboo. E-sail propulsion system cannot be steady neither. When a park keeps off the pets and vehicles as unified regulation, Pre-lubed who of late babysits grown Charlie Peanuts has to hold Charlie to move along periphery of the park to another park gate in direction-free mind, right then CTD comes forward to accompany them. Brrr! The off-the-wall wind just blows away the gross air pollution produced by the skein of fireworks in the past 5 days, in particular on the 5th day called Welcome the God of wealth according to local custom, people flock to all temples to burn joss sticks, it’s such a TRADITIONAL SUPERSTITION that people go to in front of beliefs for a bribe so as to bring in wealth and never ever for confession. Superstition does not stop! Integrity cannot arise! Justice cannot exist! A throng of crowded people have long been enjoying a retarded “happiness” from generation one generation. How can count on a cultural vicious cycle for yonks to break through a bottleneck of predicament?! Much less to be transhuman.
The lengths of trails are for both the runners and walkers to a nicety. Karate as latecomer appears for a hunky-dory celebration where all hashers surround a small clearing in a residential neighborhood compered by GM Agent Orgy whom dons cardinal Hash flag and RA BF by turns. PL scores her #25 patch of BJH3. Two virgins are greeted with Hash song and little souvenir. Three hares are hailed in for iterative drinks. Just Allen as other virgin at last starts to sip beer whilst he chitters. DH yields to nobody to function Song Master by belting out a train of Hash chapters for each scene to enshrine episodic memory. BF then fetches out a list of du jour annunciation to knock over a drink one by one. HSP swaddles Charlie to his breast to roar with laughter at sagacity out of hashing shticks. Rambo Number Five cannot wait in a slit of tandem gags to “accuse” two gormless hashing acts. The high-voltage interactions do not have a space to retreat into silence. The same, as if courting a contest of brain teaser between autotroph and entoproct in a weird silence of different spatial dimensions without sexual arousal. Taking concerted action in the beginning of blessing the trail to co-libate a can of beer with three hares and in the end of chorusing Swing Low all officiated by BF as RA evangelically. And make Hashers peace, to the end of time. Eight hashers eat up a toothsome local meal in an appropriate environment. Surprisingly, DH offers a large tray of home-made chocolate cake to conquer taste buds of vast majority. Hereby acknowledgement of elaborate preparation and well-designed trail by DH.
On On…
Pickle Boy
Beijing. Tuesday
February 15, 2016
