BFM #40
Posted on November 24, 2004
Over the river and through the ‘hood
To Deep Flute’s flat we go
We can find the place
But nary a space
To park my blue auto.
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BFM #39
Posted on November 18, 2004
18 November 2004: For many weeks, this club has longed for the hilly hinterland of Manayunk, far away from aggressive traffic and occasionally troublesome police. Manayunk, familiar to marathoners, bike racers and other overachievers as some of the most challenging terrain within city limits, where the paved streets are shiggy just by being as steep as the wrong side of the Matterhorn. Manayunk, where a car in neutral gear will roll into the next ZIP code on its own. Manayunk, home to T. Hogan’s Pub, and for a night, our kennel of urbanized boozehounds. GFM LF Winkie did his research and found us not only a place that had pitcher service, but a pitcher and pint special. Way to go, chief!
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BFM #38
Posted on November 11, 2004
11 November 2004: On this fine night, our pack of idiots was summoned to the Irish Pub by the promises of $2 pints and a (hopefully soundproofed) room for our circle. By 7:00 PM (6:39 Hash Standard time), the Pub was standing-room-only full of the usual after-work crowd of desk pilots and similar white-collar trolls, with nary a dry bag or a pair of running shoes in sight. As the hounds came in from the cold, elbowed their ways through the throng and guzzled their pre-trail beers, our grand f*!king master of mismanagement prepared the straws for tonight’s lottery. The short straw went to Full Moon’s Strap-On, who hadn’t laid trail since their AGM last quarter. For some reason, she was joined to co-hare by PH3’s Tinkerbell. (This reason will be explained later.)
Off they went to leave the track for tonight’s hunt, and as the Mob counted five minutes (bearing in mind that a BFM hare lead minute is actually only 48 seconds long), Skin Fiddle and I agreed to watch the coats and bags, since we were both unable to run. As the last hound went out the door, SF and I turned our attention to our pints, the club’s luggage, and NCState taking an early lead over Florida. Half an hour later, Strap-On and Tinkerbell returned to the pub after laying approximately 1.5 miles of urban trail, over which they must have distributed several grams of flour.
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BFM #37
Posted on November 4, 2004
04 November 2004: It was a dark and stormy night . . .
Yet a mini-Mob gathered at Downey’s at the appointed hour. Cause found the bar around 7:15 and began looking for a parking space in the Front & South environs. Hah! Tongue Twister admired the staff. (Then) Just Mitch drew the straw, short with instructions to KISS, (Keep It Short, Sweetie) and lay it on thick. Cause is in the Center City area, still looking for parking.
Mitch followed instructions carefully and the pack chased the Orange Play-Dough markings duly. Rumor has it trail may have been an entire mile. Cause gets lost in South Philly. Then Bastard Child and Tinkerbell go looking for a hash- ppropriate bar. Downey’s doesn’t serve pitchers and the pints are $5.00. (Winkie, call or visit the bar first.) Cause finds a spot at 8:00 at 3rd and Thomas Paine; she should have had the Common Sense to bring a bunch of quarters.
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