Sick Week

Got sick as a dog this past weekend. Was it the hash, the food at the apres'...I think not. It was probably the all night drinking binge at some hasher's pad in Arlington. Really don't remember too much, not that I was trashed, just a pretty boring ass hash party in DC. When all was said and done at 0730 Easter Sunday morning, myself and a non-hasher, Dave were sucking down the suds heading north on 495 to drop me at home. 4 hours later, living death set in. Felt like total shit at some yuckity-yuck, overpriced, gourmet brunch. The food and service were way above this hashers normal standards and I set a good example by following post hash party etiquette and having a beer first thing.

Life went down hill from there, felt like crap by 1700 and crawled into bed. Woke up at 0530 the next morning and promptly e-mailed myself in sick. E-mail is the shit! I've never e-mailed in sick before. Gone are the days of making hacking noises while holding your nose talking on the phone pretending you are sick when all you want to do is catch up on some sleep, go to the beach or get rid of your hangover by laying around on the couch all day. I chose selections 1 and 3. Here's a summary of the rest of the week:

Tuesday, felt like shit. Wednesday and Thursday - see Tuesday. Finally, this morning I felt great, woke up pouring sweat, which proves I was really sick and not just hungover - afterall, it was only Yuengling on tap, not Beast or anything really hideous. Went to work with a kick ass take names attitude and fucked with everyone all day long. Pissed off half of them and the other half tried to keep up, but never succeeded.

Saturday is a hashing day! At least tomorrow is 'round here. The weather is up in the air, so i'm helping myself to the beer check beer - BallantineXXX and toasting G asking for either 80 degrees and sunny or a fucking monsoon (go monsoon!). Tomorrow is my last hash with DCH4 and I have an ugly, shiggy trail that'll peter out at about 10 miles, give or take a mile. Got the Ballantine XXX, it was the cheapest I could find at the yuppie beer store down the road, 20 pounds of flour, chalk and a soon to be retired pair of hash shoes. I figure worst case scenario is me laying trail while consuming said XXX in a minor monsoon at about 50 degrees laughing maniacally about all the wankers who will attempt this small rendition of a ballbuster DC style (meaning kinder, gentler). I could lay a sonofabitch trail but that would be in vain as no one would show (they've said so, as I've threatened one already). So, I need y'all to pray for a monsoon, typhoon, hurricane, tornado or other such ugly weather for this hash.

So much for yakkin' about the deed, gotta go prep and pray. As Brownie would say, see all yunz guys later.