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Hash Trash #1786: Red Dress 2016

Hares: Pussy Control, Trail Snatcher, Bzzt! Where's the Lube

Box: K-Mart Roof

On-Home: Tumon Vacant lot where the Royal Palm used to be

Trail Summary: Expectations are always high for the Red Dress Run: we always have great costumes, shot stops, and a fun urban trail. Well, two out of three ain't bad. The hares showed up decked out in some frankly terrifying Red Wedding costumes, complete with plastic wolf masks, lots of blood, and in PC's case, a fake baby bump with a knife sticking out of it. Classy. The hares completed their Red Wedding theme by setting trail mainly in ketchup. "Wow, why didn't I think of setting in ketchup before?" thought no one, ever. At best, the ketchup marks looked like the menstrual ooze left by some free-bleeding trail runner; at worst, they dried a tacky brown color remarkably similar to that of the dirty concrete we were running on.

The pack made it through exactly one mark before losing trail, so for two glorious minutes the K-Mart parking lot was overrun with red-dressed degenerates shouting, "Are You?" That alone was worth the price of admission, which is good, because the rest of the trail was pretty lame. We got into some cool limestone shiggy for a few minutes before turning onto Marine Drive. From there it was a straight shot down to the ITC intersection, then a straight shot to the traffic circle and into Tumon, and--shocker!--another straight shot down Pale San Vitores. There were shot stops (Honor!) and a little bit of beach to break things up, but then we finished in a nasty little vacant lot with nary a bar stop to be had. The only real excitement came from the reactions of the public. Apparently one life guard accosted PC (as she's running through the beach pregnant and covered in fake blood, with a knife sticking out of her belly) and asked if she was okay, and she said, "Yeah, as long as I don't get caught by the people chasing me," and kept running. How relieved he must have been when there actually turned out to be people chasing her.

Religions started off well. Bi Bubble Yum finally got the FNG speech right, just in time for my FNG, Just Dad, who Bush Master identified as the record winner for Longest Time a Haole Lived on Guam Before Breaking Down and Hashing. Love you Daddy! Then we had the usual bullshit as everyone waited for the main event: the costume contest. As is tradition, the Vaj awarded the best-dressed Male Hasher with the opportunity to run one Vaj with us this year. There were some strong contenders. Blowhole had been a crowd favorite in a dinosaur suit, but he took it off well before the contest. Beaver looked dominatrix-chic in all leather, and Minstrel was a tinkling affront to decency in a bellydancer outfit, but in the end One Eyed Willy prevailed thanks to some artfully-done makeup that left half the men in the pack convinced he was actually a cute chick. There were some other contests, including Sexiest (Just Jodie), Most Offensive (PC by a landslide), Prettiest Prettiest Princess (Tube Top Teaser), and Boy, You're Ugly (I don't even remember who won this--everyone, probably?).

Ultimately the Red Dress Run is great because everyone gets to feel good about themselves. The men get to feel pretty. The women feel validated as the men bitch about their once-annual experience with makeup and tight skirts. Onlookers feel relieved, I assume, because they are not weirdos running in dresses down Marine Drive. And we all get to feel good because the proceeds of our run go to the Alee Shelter, an emergency home for women and children who are victims of domestic violence.

Honor to the hares, those who manned the shot stops, and everyone else who made this run possible!

On-on to the 1787.


What happens on the hash stays on the hash, except when it's written in the Hash Trash.

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