It looked like the Hogtown Hash was actually in Eerie on July 11. That left a few freaks, oddballs and ne’er-do-wells still in town, so some of them decided to go to the hash. Shampoo, for one, still does not have a passport. I think Venta and Zephyr are afraid to go to the States because that Obama is palling around with terrorists. Two Jugs, Oral Sox and Black Widow decided to go on an exciting out-of-town adventure to an exotic locale, so they came to Hogtown. And perhaps Humpday is not allowed out of the country for specific legal reasons. Also in attendance were HapPenis, Phone Sex and her friends whose names I can never remember.

Humpday was our hare, striking a blow against the capitalist oppressors with his Che Guevara-themed flour bag. Though he claimed it was a picture of Dan Hill.

Our trail took us from Finn McCool’s across Front and down beside the stadium. Even the most stupid among us (…and that would leave…?) could smell the impending beer check, and sure enough, the friendly folks at Steamwhistle offered free beer for all the hashers. Here we had our first encounter with The Guys in the Tuxedo T-shirts. It must have been some sort of formal event.

So why did Humpday buy a 12-pack at the brewery? Our beer check over (they were getting ready to close up shop), we wandered at a relaxed pace down to Queens Quay and around Harbourfront. We took the little underground loop under Queens Quay where all the sketchy guys drinking hung out, but they were nobody we knew. Somewhere along Queens Quay we saw The Guys in the Tuxedo T-shirts again. We got lost in the ever-diminishing circles of the Music Garden park before breaking free of its iron grip, and Humpday led us into a semi-secluded clearing where we had a second beer check. That was what the 12-pack was for.

The trail headed over to Bathurst, the shining beacon of the Amsterdam brewery shining to the north, but the check there revealed that sadly the trail continued further west. But only for a couple of streets, and then it was up to Lakeshore and back to Bathurst.

What would the term be? – a beertease? – anyway, Humpday had us trudging through the Amsterdam parking lot but we did not go in. Not sure if it was even open. We continued on into the vacant land to the east, into a large empty bowl where there was, in fact, a third beer check. Not to mention a place to pee, which was becoming important by that point. And so a few minutes of pleasantry were enjoyed with frosty beverages in the late afternoon sun. Who needs Eerie?

The ground seemed to have had about a five degree camber to the right on the walk back along Front, but maybe that was just me. Sure enough, once again there were The Guys in the Tuxedo T-shirts, and they seemed to have about a six degree lean to the left. Maybe that part of the city is prone to optical illusions.

Back at the bar Moist Leatherette had arrived to act as our voice of sober second thought, like our very own Canadian Senate. And it was most refreshing to have an outdoor circle on such a pleasant evening, despite Shampoo stumbling his way through GM duties.