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 Post subject: R2H3 Trash 9 & 10 - Better late than never!
PostPosted: Sat Mar 09, 2013 11:58 am 
Ready for Rehab
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Joined: Sun May 13, 2012 10:03 am
Posts: 77
Location: The Hills of Appalachia
v. : Trail Nos. 9 and 10
R2H3 :


COMES NOW, KYConfucktor, attorney for the pack and pleads the herein Hashtrash for the 9th and 10th Running of the Rumblin’ Roman Hash House Harriers.

Statement of Proceedings Below

Defendant hereinafter admits being tardy in asserting his defenses to the above referenced actions and prays for leave of the leave of the pack to pay in extra down downs for the below enumerated reasons:

1. Defendant has no real good excuse, Defendant was just lazy.
2. Defendant has been drunk entirely too often to write this trash.
3. Defendant has been pleading to get laid instead of pleading this trash.
4. Everyone likes Defendant and so they will let this tardiness pass just this once?

Statement of Facts
Trail # 9

The pack met in a South Rome loading dock with a conveniently placed dumpster which doubled for a urinal. The pack was small yet organized and included Cooter Hog a visitor from the great state ok state of Tennessee.

Hares were CBT and Thumb-In-It

The pack let out after customary pre trail excercises and drinks. The pack ran mile after mile through streets and swamps, trees and shiggy, railroads and creek. The pack ran back and forth, left and right counting check backs, recounting check backs and triple checking check backs, 8 hours later the pack found the 10th mark obviously laid out underneath the back side of a UPS drop box (which Thumb-in-it later described as “obvious”) and the chance of snare was reduced to null as I expect the hares were already enjoying post festivity beer at the finish.

The pack headed what was clearly private property and which was later confirmed to be private property by as truck shop guy who approached Hugh Heffer and told us how important he hand his job both were. Hugh threw Thumb-in-It under the bus and the pack was off again.

Trail led up and over a hill with dead horsey toys, a pallet grave yard, a deer grave yard through pipes, back under different pipes, along roads, over hills, over bigger hills, and over more hills.

At the beer check the pack was able to see the 2008 Rome city teacher of the year, must have been a good year as the bill board was still up, and clearly any teachers in the pack could never live up to that lady’s standards. (Sorry CBT and Aunt G)

Finish was in a Zombie bunker complete with safe room and beautifully decorated concrete walls including drop offs to ensare drunken hares.

FRB was Hugh (big surprise as finish was next to his house and he left trail and avoided climbing Mt Everest the water tower hill)

FBI was NFN Kyla (who had a discussion about how many trails she has “ran” but the packed determined she had not ran enough to drop here NFN moniker.)

NFN Jolene bimboed the trail (…still don’t knooowwww what love means…JOLENE…lalalalalalalalalaaaaa) sorry I had to do that one last time….

Leaky Conch rolled in, preparing his one song… carring balls along with Cooter Hog.

DFL was Sparkle Tits who was immediately preceeded by NFN Eric would soon play a key figure in the naming……..

The trail was prefaced by an awesome home movie of NFN Eric, gold jacket, 7 day shitters, short little steps to the left….short little steps to the right….. jump… spin… hip thrust, you get the point.

After numerous iterations and now 3 months of thought NFN Eric was renamed DJ Limpy Cock, donning his gold jacket which was brought out from its shadow box like he won the Masters or something. The jacket was retired again before downdowns to preserve its luster.

NFN Jolene was predestined to have a gummy name to preserve the twin connection. It was immediately settled she was renamed Juicey Coot. (personally I was pulling for Big League Goo, but I was outvoted…)

At the end of the night Hugh and NFN Scotty could be seen prepping…planning…scheming
I could almost hear them saying “Roads…? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.”

- Life's hard - it's harder when you're stupid.
Hugh Heifer

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