Log that you were at this run.
Tree Rex: In true Hash House Harrier fashion—being a drinking club with a running problem—ASSS H3 burst into summer season. Your hare, the unhinged and heat-stricken Aims for Dicks, set out with one noble goal: lay 69 false trails. In the end, she settled for a modest 33 falses, setting a personal record for most deliberate acts of deception in a single trail. Why didn’t she hit 69? Because it was too fucking hot, and even chaos has its limits. This pavement pounder of a trail was a bold departure from Aims for Dicks' usual dense shiggy nightmares. Just Big Surprise, among others, complained bitterly. "Too much pavement!" he said. But let’s be honest—they bitch when it’s shiggy, and they bitch when it’s sidewalk. The only thing consistent is the whining (and the drinking). At chalk talk, Aims for Dicks announced a cruel incentive: whoever found the most falses would get a “prize.” That prize turned out to be a shot of Malört—a drink lovingly described as tasting like burnt rubber soaked in regret. Just Luke Fairy, the poor bastard who sniffed out 14 falses, took his Malört like a champ (with a facial expression that looked like he was reliving his worst life decisions). The total number of falses found by the pack? 28 out of 33, meaning Aims for Dicks almost succeeded in her goal of making the entire trail a scavenger hunt for pain. FRB status was too close to call, with both Just Luke Fairy and Just Big Surprise sprinting in like they were late for last call. On the other hand, DFLs were Just Up Shits Creek and No Glove, No Love, dragging in with the grace of two raccoons on a bender. At the 3rd beer check, Just Up Shits Creek Without a Purse, Weather Permitting (take a breath) graced the pack with some romantic wisdom, revealing her thirst for pale nerds and dropping this gem “Sleep with nerds… but not on them.” For her sins—and honestly, her bravery—she received her official ASSS name: Closeted, Unmedicated Frodosexual in Summer Weather, M.D. May her journey be l