Friday, 28 February 2014

Hash 143: Our Annual Red Dress Run

Cerca Valentine's Day we amassed for our Annual Red Dress Run. This special event began in 1987, when a young lady by the name of Donna Rhinehart flew to southern California to visit a friend wearing a red dress. Shortly thereafter, she found herself transported to Long Beach, where her friend intended to introduce her to a running drinking group called the Hash House Harriers. A man, noting her gender and attire, urged that she “just wait in the truck” until her host returned. With that goading, she ran into history sporting her red dress and heels.

The following year (August 12, 1988), to commemorate the event, the San Diego Hash House Harriers sent “The Lady In Red” an airline ticket to attend the inaugural Red Dress Run. Hundreds of male and female hashers adorned themselves in red dresses for a spectacle widely covered by California newspapers and TV news. In addressing the crowd, The Lady In Red suggested that Hash House Harriers hold the Red Dress Run annually as an occasion to be used to raise funds for local charities.

The tradition of the Hash House Harriers Red Dress Run quickly spread to every corner of the globe, including Santiago! Many thanks to Reverse Cowgirl in keeping the charitable tradition alive by mention the education fund set up for child Cherry Stanton, whose mother recently passed away in an accident.

Also a big thank you to Multiple Entry and No Cuntry for Old Men  for hosting us in Vitacura, and to Muffler Sucker (on her penultimate hash!) for teaching Southern Esposure and Strip, Minor how to lay the cutest trail ever.
It's a turkey! Of adorableness! Heroes love adorable turkeys!
So legible! So sexually suggestive!
Tautology: Adorbs smiley faces are smiley faces that are adorbs.
The hearts are a nice touch. Dragqueen Espía de Argentina less so.
As above mentioned, we were hosted in the fancypants mansion home of the primo of Multuple Entry. Even as he was rained on by the rare Santiago summer shower, he lured us inside,
Nothing about this picture is creepy.
and we received the Chalk Talk lesson from three well dressed hashers. The talk paused for a few moments while hares Muffler Sucker, Southern Exposure, and Strip, Minor! quietly and with much sophistication debated amongst themselves the problem of universals, specifically relating to the property of cuteness. Is it that we predicate the same property on multiple entities but that the entities only share a name, not a real quality, in common? They then debated,  Toastmaster style, regardless of whether Cuteness qua Cuteness exists in reality, or only in our thought and our speech, whether (1) puppies holding ice cream cones or (2) rabbits on their hind quarters wearing even more disproportionately small fancy hats could possibly tend towards Cuteness more than their trail had, and eventually agreed that neither could. The trail was declared perfectly cute,
Maxipad WITH WINGS, Just-Memo, and Dick So Soft bide their time. One day, they will be the most beautiful belles at the ball.
and we began the important ritual of warming up our animal bodies with heat and vigor.

Here is a video of those special moments.

We then left for the trail! Runners, sucks to be you, because JustMark was put in charge of the camera! He managed to shoot eleven videos of his crotch jiggling as he ran, each terminating as he surpassed the other runners to (presumably?) snap a photo, but in practice, to end a video with the surprised and sweaty faces of the rest of you, glistening from the sweet rain and your physical exertions. Then the videos recommenced! It goes without saying that those are just for me.

The walkers had more competent photographers! Here Stain Pants captures the childlike wonder Sir Acting Semen exudes as he works up the courage to flirt.
Returned 1980s SHHH hasher Hot Rod knows this is not how you speak to a lady.

We crossed a bridge from the hike and bike trail, holding hands for safety and skipping for fun,
♫ I'm too sexy for the CAT WALK, for the CAT WALK yeahh ♫
and returned to Chez Primo de Multiple Entry for circle time! With pisco watermelon! Summer is the best.

The beers were chilled in our absence.

In the blink of an eye, unsavory underwater beer gnomes will steal half your beers. Be forever vigilant against underwater beer gnomes, my friends. Even the nice ones will break your heart.
We invited the Virgins to get to know us better and thanked Shuttercock twice for each of her guest's Espía de Argentina's bosoms.
Reverse Cowgirl and Cracked My Ass have their doubts she can do it
We then sang lustily, and not at all in a pretend way:
 ♫♫ We've got virgins ♫♫♫
♫♫ We've got virgins
♫ At our hash ♫♫♫
♫ At our hash  
♫ Gonna get'em drunked up  
♫ Gonna get'em fucked up 
♫ Down the hatch
♫ Down the hatch

Drink it down, down, DOWN, down

Maxipad WITH WINGS, Stop the Bus, and Double Stuffed Potato knew she could do it!
We welcomed back our traveling sister Daddy Bator and her smiling, radiant energy force,

Frozen Nuts and Daddy Bator sweat flowers, poo unicorns, and barf rainbows, they're so damn lovely
 but then punished her for leaving us for so long,
May the POWUHH of HASH cawm-pelll ewe!
Then came about an hour of time in which Grand Master Sir Sump Pump touched as many people as he could. This started during our largest commercial announcement to date, just before the naming.

Show them your naked chest!, he whispered softly
Sister JustMonica grabs her camera when she notes that Sir Sump Pump's legs are spread wide for superior t-shirt pressing action
All the commercial announcement announcers, all the capitalist pigs
Then came the naming! JustMark talked about his love for computers, his Canadian ancestry, and his chestnut pony Sir Butters Monster. Disgusted, we asked him to take a seat.

Though he has previously relinquished power to Jesus Cums Twice to try out the position of Religious Advisor, Sir Sump Pump rejoined the inner circle, following Thunder Down Under's ...  lead from earlier this month, for more touchings!
This is my butt, rubbing against your crotch! Ride me like you ride Sir Butters Monster!
The touchings were brief but with impact.
"I did not make him cry."
"Look at him. He's crying."   "I am NOT crying."

"If he ever touches you again, I'll make sure that he's the one crying. I'm from New York, and my grandmother is in the mafia. Let's proceed."
Jesus Cums Twice did an admirable and ladylike job as RA, circling twice to count the naming votes. She then bellowed into the afternoon rain that we would now, forever more, know JustMark as Oiler My Penis.
The penis oiling has begun!
Lucky for him, there was a pool meters away for cleansing. 

Hosts No Cuntry for Old Men and Multiple Entry then aided and abetted Jesus Cums Twice in the closing hymn, Sweet Slow, Sweet Chariot. There were gesticulations and amylase ejections,
No Cuntry for Old Men does a more minimalist and edgy iterpretation of "Swing Low."
So much spitting, so much disapprobation
Our members have so much moisture to share
Then Sir Sump Pump began his wild and crazy touchings again! Strip, Minor narrowly evaded getting dunked in the pool;
those who'd already been dunked were further moistened;

Marriage takes work, folks
we lined up for a photo posing as sloppy mermaids;

Oiler My Penis and Maxipad WITH WINGS give this photo a semi-candid air, because of what they are doing with their faces
and a good time was had by all.
Many thanks to our hosts and our hares!