A beautiful and hazy day was the backdrop for run 1490 dubbed “The Peaceful Run.” Not desiring to repeat the mistake of drawing the police’s attention like the week prior ,mismanagement wanted to project the image of a “harmonious” group of runners to save them from another trip down to the police station for yet another cavity search.
Hepingmen Exit “C” was the site of meeting, “You do know that there are two, exit ‘c’s, right?” Masturbaker was quick to point out to hares Doggie Fondue and Lord Cockington. He had a point as the rest of the runners were later than normal in arriving…possibly confused by the arriving at the wrong exit.
A short 30km walk to home from the subway stop, a quick change and stretch, and the hashers were off…all of them…in the absolutely wrong direction. Shortly the “on back” was called, and runners came flying back the opposite direction with Circus Freak leading the charge. Through merchants selling paintings and art supplies, open checks and two ways, Twinkle Balls, Placentia, and Prancing Queen found themselves as the front-running bastards. Not for long, though, as they went the wrong direction on a two-way, failed to see the “oh shit” and continued to follow the faded marks of a previous hash ages ago.
Not to be outdone, Tapass, Dry Hole, Circus Freak, and Cock Sourcerer, mesmerized by the local duck standing around in the hutong, completely blew by the first beer stop, and continued on the trail solving several two ways making the post beer stop run much easier for everyone else. Thanks, guys! More hutongs and crowded streets, hashers found themselves running next past the Xinhua “news” service while Horny on Top found herself running next to a three wheeled cart which, in turn, found itself on an imminent collision course with an Audi.
After the second beer stop runners weaved their way towards National Performing Arts Center, and were met with a very pleasant and serene hash hold complete with staring tourists. While running around the parameter of the egg, hashers noticed workers walking on the water surrounding the theater. Ginger Jesus was not amused as he wanted to join his fellow people out on the water but would have landed him in trouble with the non-believers known as the police. From the National Theater, it was on-home.
The circle was in a prime location; a small back alley frequently visited by taxis a short 50km from home. GM Snot got the circle off on the right foot by confusing the hell out of everyone with his usual antics, and recognition was given to Horny on Top as the day marked her 25th run with the Beijing Hash. Cums all the time received her 50 run patch (years in the making), as well as a tasty chicken foot which Snot insisted she consume. She obliged and nibbled on the foot a bit before disposing of it. Unprepared for the occasion, mismanagement was left with a crisis as they did not have her mug. A plastic cup, a sharpie, and a Black Turd were all it took to fashion a temporary “50 run mog” to serve a place holder until the next time CAtT shows up a run (possibly some time next year).
With a loaded Cock of Chame in-hand, Dazed and Confused attempted to call Snot into the circle for subpar GMing, but was quickly met with opposition. A shouting match ensued, and soon Dazed folded, and yelled out “OK, FINE!” Dazed squeezed the Cock of Chame and its contents spewed out with the velocity and volume of a garden hose onto the pavement as he stormed out of the circle and pouted in a corner. A little love and some encouragement was all that was needed to get dazed back in to finish the job.
Black Turd had a present for Dazed. A pair of D+C’s underwear?! No one knows if they were sharing them or not, or if they were clean, but we do know that D+C handed them off to Cum Shot who promptly threw them on her shoulder.
Dry Hole and Horny on Top were accused of too much PDA during the run (you don’t say), while Dazed’s belly was accused of being the model for the National Performing Arts Center. This quickly prompted a call to arms from Pretty Woman and Black Turd and a matchup to decide who would be the model of the next Performing arts Center was on! A brutal and agonizing contest ensued with a victorious and very proud Black Turd beating out the competition. With the circle winding down, Rowan was called in, but was nowhere to be found. She had vanished. We may never know what she was being called in for. ON FOOD!
Hash staples were served at dinner, and the night was concluded with a somewhat sloppy rendition of swing low. Hashers then disappeared into the sunset. Half heading home, half heading to Paddys to enjoy some Guinness, and half heading to Hellen’s to enjoy some beer served in tubes.