“Where are you guys? I’m over here!”
Carrying on Hash fixture in the shank of the evening around the ozone as fresh as paint;
Conscientious GM Life of Pee as hare flours the first half of 10kms in apple-pie order;
Twelve spry Hash rattlers sweep through the esplanade, foot bridge, canyons and square;
Four hashers like Just Alice, Just XiaoLi and others straggle out of the column headfirst.
Sporadically seeing that the locals burn somewhat papers on the curb for Ghost Festival;
Amityville horror gives way to sublunary joy of hashers in roaring “On On! Open Check!”
The folks enjoying the cool cast respectful glance at passing hashers sweating like a pig;
Chewkacca as cohare bounces off from the beer stop where hashers take a break and drink.
All but each mark in a 2/300ms of long distance between every two make hashers asunder;
The hashers no more than eye one another within the bounds of possibility at 100ms or so;
Other than Kimchi Muncher, dot the i’s and cross the t’s for marks by running added 3kms,
The rest without exception go astray, like Pretty Woman, Red Snatcher, Chippendale so on.
A brainstorming circle’s instituted in sitting round the tables by accomplished Life of Pee,
who hosts a quiz about Oregon with Oregon draft beer for B*tch Be Cool leaving for there;
Latecomer brave Ferrari can but sit on the laps of Pickle Boy until his lower extremities feel
anesthesia and twilight sleep; this moment a full moon’s greeted, all raise heads and howl.
“Where are you guys? I’m over here!”
Carrying on Hash fixture in the shank of the evening around the ozone as fresh as paint;
Conscientious GM Life of Pee as hare flours the first half of 10kms in apple-pie order;
Twelve spry Hash rattlers sweep through the esplanade, foot bridge, canyons and square;
Four hashers like Just Alice, Just XiaoLi and others straggle out of the column headfirst.
Sporadically seeing that the locals burn somewhat papers on the curb for Ghost Festival;
Amityville horror gives way to sublunary joy of hashers in roaring “On On! Open Check!”
The folks enjoying the cool cast respectful glance at passing hashers sweating like a pig;
Chewkacca as cohare bounces off from the beer stop where hashers take a break and drink.
All but each mark in a 2/300ms of long distance between every two make hashers asunder;
The hashers no more than eye one another within the bounds of possibility at 100ms or so;
Other than Kimchi Muncher, dot the i’s and cross the t’s for marks by running added 3kms,
The rest without exception go astray, like Pretty Woman, Red Snatcher, Chippendale so on.
A brainstorming circle’s instituted in sitting round the tables by accomplished Life of Pee,
who hosts a quiz about Oregon with Oregon draft beer for B*tch Be Cool leaving for there;
Latecomer brave Ferrari can but sit on the laps of Pickle Boy until his lower extremities feel
anesthesia and twilight sleep; this moment a full moon’s greeted, all raise heads and howl.
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