November 12, 2016
Hares: Beandad, Drip Dry, I'm On A Goat, The Long One (as a loose-lipped KGB)
Box: Japanese caves on Nimitz
On-Home: Beach in Asan
After last week's shorts-stealing, tyrant-changing, long-goodbyeing bonanza of a Fuck Cancer Run, it was inevitable that this week's run would be a bit of a letdown. And boy, was it! The run itself wasn't so bad, and by not so bad I mean covered in miserably deep mud, broken glass, and a healthy serving of rusted out metal parts. The Long One eagerly asked me if I had noticed all the historic shit on trail, which of course I hadn't. We came out to the beach through the Gecko Memorial Tunnel, which the hares had helpfully lit up with a candle to prevent further head injuries. Thanks hares! Unfortunately some of the...let's just say less mentally gifted hounds mistook the three pillars under the bridge for an on-back (Seriously? You guys think the hares CONSTRUCTED A BRIDGE to make some marks?) and got lost. Apparently they were found at Adelup, presumably looking for help from the Governor.
Things started to go south at religion. Tyrant Drip Lip had skipped the run in favor of afternoon tea or some shit but promised to make it back well in time for religion. Predictably he did not keep this promise, and when he finally did show up, the heavens opened up and cursed us with a rain the likes of which the hash has never seen before.
It's a well-known fact that while hashers love rain on trail, any water at religion will melt us like the Wicked Witch of the West. So this week we all huddled under umbrellas i