The moony event started with Daily Male screeching in that, uh, cute way of hers, kinda like an IKEA employee seeing a flour trail and screaming about Arab terrorists invading New Haven. She threatened to refuse to co-hare and shank everybody with a rusty nail if so much as a molecule of anthrax flour touched her shapely bod during the send off ceremonies. Seems she was wearing a $5,000, diamond encrusted Parish Hilton Sports Bra that would disintegrate
the moment it was touched by anthrax flour, thus summoning the Hazzymat Fashion Police for immediate arrest.
Luuuuuger then piped in that he too was wearing a $5,000, emerald encrusted Linsey Lohan Sports Bra, but had spent $100 extra to purchase the anthrax flour resistant model, so flour away. That, or it was just a crusty jock strap over his jewels, I forget.  I forget because this was, as is worth repeating, a Full Moon, not a Hump, and there was actually beer at the start. And in the middle. And in the end. Your Hash Trash Emeritus, who normally eschews beer to keep to my no booze before dark rule, actually partook since it was - all together now - after dark, and it was hot and sweaty and thirst inducing.

After Luuuuuuger was floured, and a snarling, fiery eyed Daily Male wasn't, off they went into the night, setting the typical
Hashers anthrax trail and killing off most of the illegal aliens in the East Valley. Despite the fact that there was a large beautiful lake a few hundred yards away, the trail took us instead into the surrounding lower middle class neighborhoods and trash filled back alleys that After School Special is intimately familiar with. Your Hash Trash Emeritus sensed we were close the famous turtle, dog, parrot and flowing tequila party enclave of Just Sunshine, but After School Special said it was across the street somewhere. Bummer. Tequila would have been sweet.

As we scattered about, Beat-Bag screamed that we were on a false trail. Doubting UPMS, however, in his anal PMSing way, shouted back that he needed CSI anthrax proof of such a claim. An extremely annoyed Beat-Bag then screamed to look on the #$^& sprinkle system control covers, and sure enough, there was the bad trail mark. UPMS was thus satiated.

The aforementioned beer stop was in a school parking lot right by a dumpster filled with what smelled like 1,000 used Pampers discarded by babies who had dead skunks for lunch. Nice choice there. Did I mention there was a large, beautiful lake nearby? Trail then continued in the Heir Luuuuuuger style of tauntingly circling back close to the start point, then sadistically veering off for another mile or two. Of course, in usual Hasher style, numerous Hasher smelled the end and short cutted back to the start.

Those that continued on were treated to a tiny glimpse of the beautiful lake as Luuuuuuger and Male's teasing extra leg swept us over and around the west side of the aqua not fria.  At the end, to the shock of the Humpers, there was more ice cold beer (ICB) and even chippy snacks! Ummmmmm salty treats. The Full Moon Hash rocks! The ICB put everybody and good spirits, and Wombie cracked the whip over a hilarious and rousing circle, complete with down downs and trail crimes and more ICB.  UPMS sang a song that was pointless, unfunny, didn't rhyme, wasn't vulgar, and had no meaning, and somehow Dumbo' got punished for it. (I can bang on Prescott's one and only Hasher cause he's in Mexico at the Inter-Hash. Nanernanernaner. )

Now, to digress as is my privilege as Hash Trash Emeritus, this boisterous, beer-up state would have been a good time for namings. It was suggested rather passionately that the recently Hump named Brown Eyed Gurl should have in fact been named Brown Eyed Shaved Gurl do to his very queer bodily maintenance proclivities. That and the sacred Hash fact that any opportunity to thrust the image of a shaved harriet into the mix is an eternally a good thing. Better yet, that name would have cascaded into renaming Beat By A Girl to Beat By a Shaved Girl, thus transforming a tepid name into a
really, really good one! Stay with me here. If you think the certain passionate name promoter had one too many ICBs, consider the endless fun that could be had in circles now and forevermore by gleefully shouting "When one shaved girl drinks, they all drink" then watching to see who absentmindedly steps forward.

However, that idea was greeted the same way as all such brilliant ideas, with a chorus of "shut the f-bomb up Dumbo'" and the ever present "Now we know why you don't drink beer on trail ya perverted cretin."

After that dousing of future hilarity, some headed for the On-After at a nearby sports bar, while others went to cool off in
Daddy Warbucks pool and search for that elusive blonde goddess Just Squiggly Christy.  On On to Heir Luuuuuuuger' s Shiggylicous Hash this Saturday, which I understand is a Marsh Death March, being A to B to boot, and entails carrying a backpack full of towels, extra clothing, at least four pairs of shoes, soap, a portable camp shower, a stainless steel bus, and a first aid kit.

- Dumbo', Hash Trash Emeritus

Attending from memory

Dumbo'
Just Newfie Brian (Future Hash name - Not Anybody's Type)
Womb Service
Daily Male
Heir Luuuuuuuger
UPMS
Bush Straddler
Mountain Spread (only at the end I believe, looked too pretty to have Hashed)
Just Fireman Paul
The other fireman who's Hash name I can never remember but should
have "shaved" in it
Beat By a (Shaved!) Girl
Brown Eyed (Shaved) Girl
After School Special (shortcutted bigtime again)
A Virgin or two
A new guy I don't know but seemed cool
And some others I forget
Lots of ICBs
Salty Chips