First of all, let’s acknowledge the missed opportunity of not calling this event “The Irish Goodbye.”
Second, let’s consider that Uncle Fister might be the worst Irish Goodbyer in the history of the BFM. How many times have we said farewell to this man? The rumor going around on trail was that he got named at his first alleged send-off event. We just can’t get rid of this guy. He has yet another goodbye hash planned with another kennel next weekend.
Third, let’s note that trail was almost as hareless as the hare was hairless, because Uncle Fister didn’t even show up (with co-hare Fort Dixalot in tow) until ten past 8. He made up for it by not having a beer near, and by not marking his false trails.
Fourth, let’s ponder what color Fister’s hair would be. You probably assumed red. Why???
Fithster, if you are really leaving this time, know that your departure will leave a big bald hole in the BFM. We can’t usually understand what you are saying, but we know you are usually saying something kind. Sure, you’ve gotten kicked out of a bunch of bars and been more of a drunk train-wreck than most people in this group (a high standard!), but in less-intoxicated moments, you’ve also shown the kind of compassion, warmth, and good-heartedness that makes it an honor to know you. May the road rise up to meet you!
Sixth, acknowledge that there were other people at trail, but no one did anything interesting and Shop and Fuck had to make up a bunch of accusations to justify having a circle. For posterity: 3 Balls, Blackout or Backout, Fort Dixalot, Just Max, Knights of the Pound Table, Not in My Hair, Pantyphile, Rear Ended, Rear Engineer, Roadside ASSistance, Shop and Fuck, Slothy Seconds, Uncle Fister, Where’s my D?