Knowledge and Life
The wall, wall and wall, anywhere is enclosed by the wall, visible and invisible. Where is the door? The value system of zombie and vampire almost stifles the humans to gasp in the pinfold. It’s grateful that the weather is agreeable with refreshing ozone from time to time, especially Sunday afternoon for Hash event. Around forty hashers on the trail surmount over a man-high wall to on the lookout for Hash sign. Co-GM Dazed And Confused is a helping hand for young ladies to jump down from the top of wall such as Fire In The Hole, Just Benny getting a bit cramp on her one foot and others.
Dry Hole tugs the puppy looking like to a frazzle ahead of all hashers; a ticket-free botanic park strings out the hashers to move forward. There is a picturesque scene inside, the stone arch bridge, woodsy small hill, melting lake water and recreational locals. Six Kuai Short’s sonorous call for the mark awakens the hashers perplexing a way out; Lost In Marks and Spencer opts for the sensible direction to lead the way over the velocity; the sign system seems to mirror a style of the hare to be conscientious, like the hare Red Snather and co-hare Nut Pirate gets whacked;
Rattling pass the streets and hutongs and footbridge in downtown. The wash drawing in the billboards at bus stops depicts a flock of horses galloping, titled Holy Horses Are Coming, which seems to relate the hashers to a tee.
A mound of flower bed with kind of geyser facility in modern building complex renders the hashers a Hash Hold for a break and photographs for this wonderful moment. RA Comes On Vacation issues an order, “Open Check.” The hashers spread out for the next excursion and spend a spell. Waiting For It with her eagle eye barely pinpoints a mark to move on; CC sways to the music from her walkman; Sleazy Rider is like an arrow to dash ahead in the bizarre square; but two middle-aged local women whose clothes appear from the countryside for sure sit on the dwarf iron railing on the side of main road to spitball one and two on the ground, resoundingly and superciliously, stick out like a sore thumb in the flowing passers-by.
At a broad crossroad, the hashers come loose lineup to run. Just Victoria rushes faster and faster than ever before; Again, the running area is a beaten path for most of hashers so many follow their noses to be home restaurant without the mark, such as Undulator, Dreaming Semen, Rubbit, Autoblow and so-and-so.
Two beer stops are set at both quiet appropriate places in the lanes. Chippendale makes a point of decking out his headgear with a lurid hood and a black corsair hat and had started to be addictive in masquerading; Pickle Boy spirts out a plethora of sweat to be topless for changing to a T-shirt; yet don’t meet up any Hash walkers as a small group shepherded by walking hare HeadMistress, maybe good sights for sore eyes hold back the footsteps of Hash walkers.
Crash Test Dummy drinks to be highest to forget D&C’s name at the celebrating circle where it is settled down next to the restaurant; co-GM and RA co-sparkle the nonstop adrenaline of every hashers and draw attentions of a number of locals and took pictures for the hashers; don’t know who brings in a lady toy for endocrine spike that confers Bjorn Again, “new-type phone” ought to award to telecommunication engineer; the hare team cannot dodge a round by a round of drinking for thanking their service. HM has only sipped no more gulp; DH as SongMaster chants a song by a song to catalize the sublime of spot aura; Benz Over, Knob In Hood, Honey I Am Late, Just Karachi, Horny On Top, Hebei Horse Herpes, CumShot, Just Wendy and newcomer, etc fall about laughing; one half stay on the local food after fewer than one hour of the circle.
The hashers are making their way to crack open a door and observe the truth of the nature.