“There I was!” declares Mathole, waiving his hand broadly among those gathered, instantly quelling the oft flippant remarks common among a kennel teaming for a worthy hunt. The silence was immediate as all senses focused on the tale to be told by this worthy tale teller.
“There you were!” the Hashers repeat solemnly, now captivated by Math’s hypnotic charisma. They leaned forward, as if swooning from imbibing slightly too much, prepared to accept truly epic lore as fact.
“There I was!” says Mathole again, smiling with the knowledge his titillating tale was igniting a collective sense of vorfreude that quite possibly could never be quelled, but he proceeded, nonetheless.
“August, I sez,” says Math with great wryness, “What’s the dealio with you and holidays, anyway? You got a problem with festiveness?” Mathole follows this question with a steely glare, the sun glinting off his glasses.
August was obviously stunned. Shocked and appalled, to be more accurate. Who was this man, this Hasher, to question him? Wasn’t he the Master of Ball Sweat, the creator of Under Boob Stains? He was AUGUST, goddamit, and he wasn’t taking any guff from anyone. Not even a Hasher. “Well, I, uh…” August begins.
“SILENCE!” declares Mathole in the fashion of superheroes everywhere. His voice had not risen, but his command of the situation was clearly apparent. “I’ve been talking to April and May, and they claim your heat and humidity are mere cloaks for your flaccid heat fervor. Tell me, Gus, are you just too hot to be hot?” Mathole asks, pleased with his well-delivered and cutting double entendre.
August was now sweltering in a panic. He’d always had a thing for April’s perkiness, and May’s gams were the source of many May poles, if you get my drift. He’d only responded to Mathole’s probing query with three words, two and a half words, actually, but he knew he’d been bested by the bestest of the bestors. With his sweaty tail between his sweaty legs August scampered off to Mother December, where all was good and Andy Williams crooned softly in the background.
Mathole stood the conquering hero, hands on hips, down vest and clean shiggy socks glimmering. His foe had been humiliated and conquered. “Let us Hash!” he declared. And Hash we did…
August, you’re my bitch.
Welcome to August – the month of NO HOLIDAYS (because he Kicked August’s Ass!)Womp womp.But Mathole is still in a celebratory mood (when isn’t he, really?), so let’s forget that pesky calendar for a day and get decked out for a holiday parade through Milford!Wear an outfit that shows you’re ready to celebrate whatever holiday suits you! Or holidays, if that’s your style. Cinco De Mayo Grinch, anyone? Maybe a Jack-O-Lantern Cupid? What about a star-spangled, shamrocked Baby New Year?Mix and match the holidays to your heart’s content! Just don’t show up in any old outfit and try to pass it off as a Halloween costume. Otherwise your holiday carol will start with “Bullshit, bullshit…”
Date: Saturday, August 2
WHEN: 3pm HST
WHERE: Cherry St., Milford. Look for ShopRite, then look for the strip mall just to the left of ShopRite, then look for the festive wankers parked in the back corner.