BFM #49
Posted on January 27, 2005
27 January 2005: Beginning the last month of its first year, the Ben Franklin Mob Hash House Harriers met at a new Chicken-picked bar, the Millcreek Tavern, 4200 Chester Avenue, which stands like a friendly, drunken sentinel on the far northwest border of University City.
Thursday’s low temperature was six degrees. But “cold is just a state of mind,” so the saying goes, which explains why mobbers showed up. Clearly they had already lost their minds, or never had much of one in the first place.
Such cold-impervious freaks included Sticky Fingers, Tongue Twister, Cheap Show, Tastes Like Chicken, Tinkerbell, Rash, Sternum & Rectum and his dog, Judy, E=My Cock Squared, Rash, Scooby Snatch, Cunting Season, Nut Cruncher, and Strap On.
Concerned that Rash might not show (I was 100% wrong), I went to the grocery store next door and bought yellow corn meal, which is yellow, and therefore distinguishable from most snow, which was still everywhere as a result of last weekend’s blizzard. When I got back to the bar, Rash was there with red colored flour. Since I already had yellow stuff ready to go, I decided to use it instead of the red stuff.
Filed Under Trash | Leave a Comment
BFM #48
Posted on January 20, 2005
20 February 2005: Thursday the Mob went to Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar, 1200 E. Passyunk Avenue, which is deeper into South Philadelphia than the Mob has ever gone before. Above Ray’s front door is a sign which proclaims, “Proudly Serving Pabst,” indicating that Ray’s would probably be a hash-friendly bar, which it was.
Wolfman Jackoff, Tastes Like Chicken, Just Bob, Sly Fox, Crusty Calves, Strap On, Rash, E=MC2, Just Hannah, Scooby Snatch, Just Shelly, and Sloppy Seconds were there, as was Beer Sucks, who when she arrived told us that Bastard Child was on the way. So instead of drawing straws, the Mob decided to tell Bastard Child that only the short straw was left, and that it was his. When Bastard Child arrived, he learned he was the hare, grumbled good naturedly, took the bag, and took off.
The numerous side alleys and the angled Passyunk Avenue made for good hashing country, especially with Bastard Child’s zigzagging trail, which wasn’t too hard to find. So the Mob sprint through it, stopping only to read the giant words Bastard scrawled on the sidewalk outside a meat store, “MMMM FATTY,” which referred to the meat inside, and “TLC,” which referred to Tastes Like Chicken, whose family used to own a store in the vicinity.
Filed Under Trash | Leave a Comment
BFM #47
Posted on January 13, 2005
13 January 2005: Forty Thursdays ago, at the BFM Commando Run, Deep Flute first turned up. That night the BFM said goodbye to BFM co-founder, Sarah Cunter. Since then, Deep Flute and her far worse half, the pheramonic She Man, have passed and pissed away many hours with the BFM circus, on and off trail. And how the wheel turns. Last Thursday the BFM said goodbye, too, to this duo.
By request, the Mob returned to Bonner’s, home of cheap beer and karaoke. The occasion and warm weather brought out all sorts of mobbers, much to the delight of the bartenders and much to the disappointment of the karaoke groupies.
Present were Bitchard and Thunder Thighs, back safely from the South Seas. The cold-averse Sloppy Seconds was there, as were Just Bob (aka [sort of] Cha-Chi), the one and only Virgin Pimp, and the hostess of the New Year’s Day hash, I’m Cumming, who hasn’t been kicked out of her neighborhood – yet – for the ill repute we brought to her house that day.
Filed Under Trash | Leave a Comment
BFM #46
Posted on January 6, 2005
6 January 2005: A cold, wet BFM Thursday night. At 26th & South streets the Mob met at Callahan’s to start the calendar year and begin to wind down its first year as a hash. Callahan’s is a roomy neighborhood bar with a good jukebox, a great bartender, and its very own neighborhood drunkaholic.
While the Mob milled about, Cause for Blindness showed up in civilian clothes, and gave a big howdy-do to the elusive Sly Fox, whom alas neither she nor the Mob have seen for quite some time, other than on Post Office walls. See Me Feel Me Touch Me was there, sitting in a chair, resting the feets before they hit the streets.
The constant Rash brought a bag of fluffy flour from her extensive collection. She directed Little Fucking Winkie to present straws, which he did without complaint, demonstrating once again that the whip is mightier than the winkie.
The short straw went to Crusty Calves, making this her virgin BFM hare. Dances with Bums’ Urine stepped up to escort the lovely Ms. Calves through the urban night.
Two new faces: Leak On You, a repatriate from Hong Kong, and Just Jamie, a Wolfman Jackoff friend. Bums’ Urine gave them a chalk talk outside. As the Mob mocked Bums’ Urine’s attempts to explain, the neighborhood drunkaholic bumped his way through the circle, saw the marks, and jumped directly on top of them like it was hopscotch. He had good aim.
Filed Under Trash | Leave a Comment
