BFM #179 When is a Sausage Party Not a Sausage Party?

Posted on July 27, 2007

You know, I wasn’t planning to hash this evening.  I had just finished Dragon Boat practice and was preparing to rush home and scrub errant Schuykill River water off me so as not to sprout horns, but on the spur of the moment I decided to drop by at TA Flannery’s to see if anything was going on,( i.e. if there was beer yet.) Excitingly, it happened that not only wasn’t there beer yet, there was also NO mismanagement present  (in all fairness, Hold the Sausage had dropped off the flour, but responsibly disappeared to be on call for the evening) AND, there VERY few harriettes. Cunting Season’s first words to me when I arrived were, "Thank God you’re here, it’s a total sausage party." 

And it was.  Milling around outside the bar post-trail were Anal Pro Boner, her friend (who’s name escapes me but who came to Hashtille Day and is a totally nice guy for being a lawyer), Cunting Season, Just Diane, Just Alice, The Rash, Rear Engineer, Lick Hymen, Son of a Goat Fucker, Fruit of the Clue, a visitor from Pike’s Peak, another visitor from somewhere else with "Bastard" in his name, Popeye’s Bitch, Three Balls, Dry Hump, 2 Clump Chump, He’s a Lesbian, He’s a Lesbian’s girlfriend, Nappy Headed Ho, Cousin It, Virgin Pimp, Jingle Balzzz, a guy in a green shirt, and another one with a beard, and a few other guys, plus a late appearance by Cause for Blindness.  (Um, I didn’t take notes.) So if you’re keeping score at home, that was 6 harriettes, and about 5,000 guys.

Trail was pretty difficult to follow, apparently, and a good part of the pack gave up and did an extended beer check at Bonner’s two blocks over.  So, um…yeah.  That was trail.

Back at the bar, Fruit of the Clue whined strenuously at being assigned the arduous task of Hash Cash while, more alarmingly, Cunting Season noticed that she and I were technically the most qualified hashers to run the circle.  Kind of like if there’s ever an epidemic of whatever in the US government, and suddenly the horrified realization dawns that the Secretary of Transportation is next in line for the Presidency since the guy from Housing and Urban Development is busy. (Although when in doubt, Alexander Haig is in control.) 

And beers wrangled, the circle was convened:
 
Hares: Anal Pro Boner, and friend
First In/Last In: He’s A Lesbian, Just Brian
Visitors: The Hasher from Pike’s Peak, The one "Bastard" in his name
Autohashers: Just Diane, The Rash, and someone else
Violations:

Just Diane: for eacaping her namin last week
Anal Pro Boner: something about bad trail again
Two Clump Chump: for being annoying
Fruit of the Clue: overstepping his authority, wearing banana hammock shorts with a race logo, whining, and running to the hash, and complaining about Just Alice flashing
Just Alice: for flashing, although this is not technically a violation, but rather a commendation   
Virgin Pimp: for being himself
Lick Hymen: where to start….?
He’s a Lesbian: for messing up the BC 4/14 from last week. (It really was BC 14, apparently.)
Son of a Goat Fucker: For being anal-retentive enough to want to correct a violation from a whole week ago.

 

Announcements:
Bruce-A-Palooza on Saturday
Lick Hymen has volunteered his place as on ongoing after-hash haven complete with Foosball.
Cousin It, Phillies Game, etc.

Eh,  that’s close enough.

On On,
The Rash

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BFM #178 - Shotgun!

Posted on July 26, 2007

The pack met at Kelliann’s on Spring Garden Street in Fairmont. From what I hear, this is the place of a past famed roach incident. The place seemed roach free this night. (But I was cautioned to avoid the food just to be sure) It was again a typical Philly mid-summer evening. You know - 100% humidity and hazy hot.

 

This didn’t deter the night’s participants: Likes the Hard One, (she was disappointed that she was left out of a past trash, so I wanted to make sure she was prominently featured in this one) Rear Engineer, Hold the Sausage, Just Alice, Just Megan, He’s a Lesbian, Well Hung Jury, Mr. Snuff My Muff, Heave Ho, Mayor Piece of Ass, Mayor Quimby, Big Tackle, Fruit of the Clue, Sloppy Ho, Jingle Balzzz, Son of a Goat Fucker, Just Brian, Beagle, Fiber Opdick, Up Her Ali, Just Diane, Popeye’s Bitch, Little Red Riding Wood, and Just Chad.

 

The trail:

 

Hold the Sausage and I volunteered Rear Engineer to be the night’s hare. Since he never had hared BFM before, he agreed to be the hare. (sucker!)

 

I was lugging beer to the beer check with Hold the Sausage, so I don’t really know much that happened on trail. We met up with Just Diane across from Sloppy Ho’s abode on Green St. where we waited with the beer. Just Diane shared some horse related stories as we ghetto drank our PBRs. (no guys, the horse stories were not that exciting)

 

Rear Engineer eventually showed up at the beer check. It seemed like forever he was out on trail. This surprised us, since we had high hopes for a short trail. Right after Rear appeared, the pack appeared around the corner of Green St. Big Tackle the FRB ran right by us. We had to summon him in… beer….beer…

 

Since I had 60 PBRs to get rid of and I wasn’t taking them with me, Sausage and I instituted a two beer minimum at the beer check. I handed out many beers to the circle going to ensure no beer was coming with me. Whatever wasn’t going in people was going to be left somewhere for hoodlums. I thought suddenly of Drinkers tavern and how they have $1 shotguns of PBR. Then, I started convincing hashers to shotgun their PBRs to get to their two beer minimums.

 

Also, during the beer check, I heard a lot of growling on how bad the PBR was. It was veritable no-PBR club. It was so widespread; I was going to have to shop at Costco for a bulk set of pacifiers. Sheesh, I haven’t had that much bitching about beer since the Gynocracy’s Excellent Adventure. What happened to the hash? We have become a bunch of beer snobs. I remember when we drank our shitty beer and we were just happy.

 

Having virtually nothing interesting to write in the trash this night, I was concerned. Lo and behold, if you stick near to some BFM’ers, you may get lucky.

 

Mayor Quimby was chatting up some ladies outside of Kelliann’s, this was my lucky break. Soft Core Analyst and I were apparently “talking” near a tree, but in fact, we were shamelessly eavesdropping.

 

The conversation with Quimby’s new lady friends Jennifer and Leslie went something like this:

 

Jen or Leslie – “Oh yeah, that’s cute” (pointing to some body part)

Jen or Leslie – “He really does know how to flirt”

 

After some talk about the police concert and Mayor Quimby recent adventure to the Def Leppard concert:

 

Jen or Leslie – “Give me your cell # for your cute self”

Leslie – “I told you Jen, I don’t chase men”

Quimby – My number is 267-270-0659

 

Just Brian called his cell phone after overhearing the number.

 

Quimby – “I am not here hitting on chicks”

Jen or Leslie – “Your kids are inside?”

Quimby – “No, my keys…”

Jen or Leslie – “What happened in the last seven minutes?”

Someone – “Seven minutes, that’s all it took?”

Jen – “He doesn’t have kids and he isn’t gay.”

 

More conversation…

 

Jen or Leslie – “Do you have a problem with non-US citizens?”

Jen – “Look at his necklace, his necklace is a character from the Simpsons”

 

The conversation takes a downturn…

 

Someone – “Meat on a sandwich, a man sandwich?”

 

Waiting for the beer to be poured, I ran into Two Clump Chump. Apparently, Scooby had a PH3 hash starting at Walnut Lane and it caused another injury. Two Clump Chump sprained or strained his ankle. Beware of the Curse of Walnut Lane!! (Insert scary music here…) It’s almost as scary as some of the shiggy at a Dancing Fool run….

 

I also was introduced to Carolyn, our bi-sexual waitress. Over the course of the night, I was sure that someone, male or female, had a 100% chance of scoring with this aggressive vixen. I haven’t been hit on that aggressively in a while and I live in the gayborhood…

 

The circle:

 

I was helping to bring pitchers of beer to the circle, so Big Tackle helped me take notes. I am all very disappointed that you didn’t notice BT taking notes in this section. Yes, you let a person of the wrong sex help with trash and not make them drink, shame, shame…

 

Hare – Rear Engineer

 

Virgin – Just Chad, the internet made him and many of us cum…

 

First In – He’s a Lesbian

 

Last In – Likes the Hard One

 

Longtime no see – Pooper Trooper, Heave Ho, Fiber Opdick

 

Auto Hashers – Skin Fiddle, Cousin It, Rash

 

Accusations…

 

Sloppy drank for some accusation from Mayor Quimby

 

Scooby accused He’s a Lesbian of confusing the back check – 4 or 14??

 

Sloppy accused M.r Snuff My Muff of checking back the way the pack came at an early check

 

Jingle Balzz accused On-Secs for late trash – Up Her Ali drank

 

Quimby accused the gynocracy of bad lite beer, but it was deemed a false accusation

 

Up her Ali accused the people at the beer check who did not shotgun

 

Popeye meant to accuse Up Her Ali of spilling her shotgun at the beer check, but instead accused Well Hung Jury. Then, he had to drink for a false accusation. I didn’t hear the end of that for a while…

 

Rash was accused of running into a bridge on her bike… ouch…

 

We were going to name Just Diane, but she left before circle.

 

Announcements:

.

Bruce-a-palooza – July 28th – Details in an e-mail

 

Phillies Tailgate – August 11th – You will never guess from who, in case you live under a rock, check your e-mail

 

Likes the Hard One – August 18th - Gigantic Divorce Party – Again, check your e-mail or call your closest hash friend.

 

Rash – DC Red Dress Run – Oct 8th

 

Lick Hymen – Having a party on Saturday – Yes, it’s on e-mail and it’s over.

 

Again, BFM’s extra-curricular activities make us all feel like we have lives. (Or not…)

 

Cause is still single!

 

The rest of the night:

 

Some of the pack trickled on-out after circle, citing silly reasons like early flights or work. The rest of us delinquents stayed out to par-T.

 

Carolyn our vixen bartender continued her foray around the room looking for a willing party. I guess no one took on the Carolyn challenge… (I am surprised that we are not that desparate…)

 

Sloppy Ho and friends took over the jukebox and played some of their favorites. You know what they are… Don’t Stop Believing, Total Eclipse of the Heart, etc. All these gems could be featured on the Songs that Drunk Chics Listen To Soundtrack. We could totally sell this on a late night infomercial and make $$ for the BFM hash.

 

I was watching the Phillies with Little Red Riding Wood, Skin Fiddle, and Just Chad. We were recounting the recent 13 inning loss and the lackluster performance of Pat Burrell. (Sorry, LRRW)

 

Mayor Quimby suggested we head to Westy’s for Karaoke. The pack was on drunk time, so I figured it would be at least a ½ hour before we went anywhere.

 

Big Tackle and I wanted to get a head start and some food, so we went out to find pizza. Apparently, in this neighborhood, everything locks down at 11pm. So, we headed over to Westy’s.

 

Eventually, the rest of the pack arrived. The bar was packed but BT and I managed to nab a seat. Leslie and Jennifer, Mayor’s friends from Kelliann’s, joined BT and I at the table for some Karoake fun.

 

We ran into Deep Flute and Winkie in civilian looking gear. They either went here on their own or heard through the grapevine we were there.

 

I realized that Mayor Quimby could easily have a second career as a Karaoke DJ or a Karaoke coach. He really should think about it.

 

The BFM gents did what they did best, gawk and/or hit on girls…

 

I was beat tired after inhaling my food, so I headed on out.

 

Mayor Quimby would probably know the rest, with his new second career and all…

 

On, On, YFF

UHA

 

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BFM #177 – Cavanaugh’s and The Return of Stan

Posted on July 26, 2007

The smoking ban in Philly makes me laugh at times.  So patrons are not allowed to smoke inside and so what do they do?  They stand in front of the doors to an establishment, sometimes holding the doors open with a foot or by leaning against them and fill the air around the entrance/exit with their discarded carcinogenic smoke.  I guess they feel that by touching an establishment’s door, they somehow feel as if they’re still inside and as such, the smoking ban doesn’t really exist?  Who knows?  As Sloppy Ho and I approached Cavanaugh’s this night, we were greeted at the door, by three 20-something men, providing their own human smoke barricade.  We walked through the smoke curtain at the doors of Cavanaugh’s to find a growing mob happily partaking in liquid barley and hops refreshments.
 
Who came:
Bastard Child, Beagle, Cause for Blindness, E = My Cock 2^, Europee’n on Me, Fruit of the Clue, He’s a Lesbian, Hold the Sausage, Jingle Ballzzz, Likes the Hard One, Mayor Quimby, Nappy-Headed Ho, Over Easy, Plastic Pud, Popeye’s Bitch, Rear Engineer, Skin Fiddle, Softcore Analyst, Son of a Goat Fucker, Sloppy Ho, Stacks, Stan, Strap-on, Sternum and Rectum, The Rash, Tickle My Elmo, 2 Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Virgin Pimp, Mr. Snuff Up a Muff, Just Ulana, Just Alice, Just Bridget, Just Diane, Just Christina, Just Chris, Just Joe, Just Mike
 
Before I could really see who all was in attendance, and before I could put my dry bag down, hands with money in them were being thrust in my direction. Geez, give a girl a moment to say hello and put her things down. I put my backpack down and begin taking care of business.
 
Before I realized it, and before I even had the opportunity to draw a straw, Hold the Sausage informed me that the hares were headed out. Another hasher asked who the hare was to which HTS replied, “Just Chris but (Son of a) Goat Fucker went with him.” I think I heard someone softly groan. Son of a Goat Fucker is typically an FRB so the hasher was probably thinking it was going to be a long trail. They had no idea.
 
Returning my attention to hash cash and the mob at large, Mayor Quimby approached with our once clap infested Stan. Quimby filled me in on Stan’s travels to Germany and France and her experience at his family reunion. Thanks to Quimby’s niece, Stan no longer sports the “Treasure Jones” tattoo on the back of her head/neck.
 
Sloppy called for the mob to circle up and so after a bit of scrambling to stow gear, we ventured outside. In the light of early evening, I noticed something that I had failed to see in the dim lighting of Cavanaugh’s: Quimby was sporting a black eye! I immediately thought, “wow, did he rough up a belligerent passenger?” No, it wasn’t anything exciting like that; he was apparently scraping with his niece at their family reunion.
 
The virgins were brought into the circle and it turns out that Just Alice brought a hat trick of male virgins! Go Alice!
 
We were off! The mob headed down 40th Street and took a right on Walnut. The corner of 41st and Walnut yielded our first False. We headed back around and down Walnut. We headed into Penn’s campus and hit another False over on Spruce Street. By this point, the mob was already beginning to break up into two groups…the FRB’s and the rest of us.
 
At one point, we ran along a pond surrounded by trees and park benches and a few ducks and I heard Quimby ask, “Is it me or is the hash getting faster?” He could be onto somethign. With that, I stopped to walk so I could momentarily enjoy the environment that I was in; people sat on the park benches enjoying the little oasis tucked into West Philly.
 
I came out of the trees and ran down onto University Ave. and then took a left onto Civic Center Blvd. The mob winded down and part of the mob took a left onto Osler St.  After several minutes, 2 Clump Chump ran back towards us, informing us it was another False.
 
We headed out to 33rd St. and took a right onto South St.and over the South St. Bridge.  By this point the mob had broken up into 3 distinct packs. As we headed over the bridge and then waited to cross onto 27th street, Softcore Analyst and myself watched an old maroon Oldsmobile proceed to perform a 3-point turn on the bridge. We just looked at one another, shrugged and proceeded on.
 
The thinning mob hashed through the Markward Playground and along the dog park and down to the Schuylkill Park. The Comcast IFC Film Festival was in high gear and the film playing this night was “Napoleon Dynamite.”  We stopped at the entrance to the park and hoped the trail led us in. Woo-hoo!  Break out the popcorn!  Yea, no such luck. The trail led around and up Locust St. We made a left onto 23rd St. and kept going.
 
As we closed in on Samson St., and like the gravitational pull of the Sun, I felt myself being pulled towards Bonner’s. “Like a siren she calls to me.” I crossed over Samson St. in pursuit of Softcore and heard behind me, Quimby and Just Alice state they were headed to Bonner’s for an impromptu beer check. I caught up with Softcore and informed him what was up. Impressed by their ingenious idea, we headed back around to Bonner’s. Those who dared: Over Easy, Just Uelena, Likes the Hard One, Rear Engineer, Just Alice, Mayor Quimby, Softcore Analyst and myself.
 
Just Alice treated the mob to a pitcher and we watched Earl on TV and listened to Quimby talk about his upcoming gig: “Bruceapolooza.”  When the pitcher was empty, we headed out. We laughed because when we went into Bonner’s it was still light but now it was dark.  We headed up to Walnut St. and made a direct line back to Cavanaugh’s.
 
As we reached 38th St. we saw Beagle putting gear in his car. He informed me that the Gynocrats were looking for me because mob was growing restless since I had the hash cash and they were thirsty.
 
I joined Sloppy at the bar to take care of business. We were joined by a few unnamed hashers who have apparently made it their mission this year to whine, each week, about hash cash and beer.  A big chunk of hash cash later, we were downstairs with lots of pitchers and circle commenced.
 
Hare(s):            Just Chris
                        Son of a Goat Fucker
 
First In:            He’s a Lesbian
 
Last In:            Just Diane
 
Virgins:
 
Auto-hashers:
 
Cums Lately:
 
Accusations:
 
Announcements:
 
As for the rest of the night, discuss amongst yourselves. After circle was closed, I headed out. This night, I had places to go and non-hashers to see.
 
On, On!
Europee’n on Me

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4th Annual Bruce-A-Palooza with the Inaugural CeeJay Liegel Beer-Pong Invitational

Posted on July 25, 2007

4th Annual Bruce-A-Palooza with the Inaugural CeeJay Liegel Beer-Pong Invitational
 
When:    Saturday 28 July 2007
Time:      2:00pm
Where:   Mays Landing, NJ 08330
Questions/Directions:        Bruce Hornik - 732-644-8070
 
Hamburgers, Hot Dogs, and Beer
Live Music provided by Stage 3 ( The Best band on the Jersey Shore )
T-shirts for all Beer Pong players and an Award to the Best Team
 
**Bring a tent, sleeping bag, etc. **
 

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BFM Hash #176 – Das Boot

Posted on July 9, 2007

I trekked out to the Northern Liberties to the Druid’s Keep. I hadn’t been in that area for a while and I am always interested to see what new bistro has opened or way too expensive condo complex has been built. It was 7:45 and I parked in a “safe” two hour parking spot that ended at 8pm. I don’t trust the Philadelphia Parking Authority. At Savoy, we called them the Philadelphia Parking Authority Ninjas or PPAN for short. (Sorry, E.) Seriously, one second you don’t see them and a minute later you have a $26 ticket on your car. “PPAN” is also the sound they make when they are printing out the ticket from their snappy, new handheld devices.

 

After arriving at the bar, I ran into Sloppy Ho, Just Alison, and Sloppy’s dad. He was visiting the PHL metro and stopped in at the hash for a beer. Nothing like a little parental support of the hash, Sloppy’s Dad has got it going on.

 

I also found out that Two Clump Chump was out setting trail; his second time in three weeks! I think he wants the crappy liquor we give out as a prize for setting the most trails. (Arbor Mist anyone? Bring on the Mist!) Also, Dancing Fool set his second trail in almost the same amount of time. Hmmm?? (but DF has more of an obsession with Poison Ivy)

 

I also saw one our beerly departed in the bar, He’s a Lesbian was back from his government training. I heard that all was going well and we would either see a lot of him or he would mysteriously disappear. (This could be said about many of our hashers, beerly departed or not…)  

 

Others who made their way North were Two Clump Chump, Jingle Balzzz, Son of a Goat Fucker, Rear Engineer, He’s a Lesbian, Just Christina, Just Diane, Just Alison, Sloppy Ho, All Turd Boy, Likes the Hard One, Just Brian, Strap On, E, Little Red Riding Wood, Sly Fox, Cousin It, Up Her Ali, Just Patty, Mr. Snuff My Muff.

 

At about 8:02pm not 8:20 as some suspected - Sloppy and I decided to get the party started. We were introduced to our virgins and our visitor.

 

Virgins – Just Brian – Just Diane made him cum, Just Rob, Jingle Balzzz made him cum, Just Peter, he made himself cum.

Visitor – Just Patty from Scranton H3.

 

The trail:

 

I heard a rumor that there would be a beer check at Heave Ho’s house if she made it home in time. I had a suspicion this would be a longer run than a usual. We started out right around the bar and instantly found a back check. We ran into Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass on our way.  

 

We ran South on 4th street for a while. Once we were past Callowhill Street, we went up into some urban shiggy near the Vine Expressway. From there, we headed toward center city. Yep, this was going to be a long run.

 

We ran through Franklin Square Park, which had just undergone a multi-million dollar renovation. Rear Engineer told me that they were planning on opening the Patco stop that was right below the new park. This is the second time I have heard some tidbits of PHL history from him, very Cliff Clavin of him.

 

We ran through, gasp… the historical district, but made it out with no arrests. Once we made it to Front St, I knew the beer check was at Heave Ho’s apartment, so I picked up the pace. At some point, we picked up a random runner. I think her name was Just Meggin or something. Cousin It spent the next couple of miles giving her the d.l. on the hash. She didn’t stay for circle, so we shall see if we see her again.

 

The beer check was in front of Heave Ho’s and we all had an opportunity to cool off in the nice breeze. After the check, we headed back a few miles on-in.

 

The circle:

 

Regular o’ Circle Stuff

 

Hare – Two Clump Chump

 

Virgins –

Just Brian – Just Diane made him cum.

Just Rob – Jingle Balzzz made him cum (and he is a relative…hmmm)

Just Peter – He made himself cum (well, at least he admits it)

 

Visitors – Just Patty from Scranton. (Likes the Hard One’s mom)

She sang us a lovely tune about whiskey.

 

First In – E

 

Last In – Not Cause, she was auto hashing. Since no one knew who came in last, He’s a Lesbian was chosen.

 

Autohashers – Cause, Just Diane, Just Christina

 

Accusations…

 

Comes lately – He’s a Lesbian, Likes the Hard One, Just Christina, Sly Fox, Son of a Goat F*cker

 

Rear Engineer accused NNFA of tech on trail.

 

Cousin It and Just Rob drank for running shirts.  

 

Mr. Snuff my Muff let us all know that Cousin It’s car was booted. PPAN! The Philadelphia Parking Ninjas were at it again. I guess he didn’t pay his parking ticket in time…

 

He’s a Lesbian accused Sloppy Ho of calling the BFM, the EWW H3. (D’oh)

 

Cause is still single…

 

Announcements:

 

Move yo’ car - Two Clump was trying to save us from the PPAN. They were ticketing like crazy. Two Clump learned that you can move your car across the street, but not up the street on the same side. We were all confused by this silly logic, but ran to move our cars after the booting.

 

Hashtille Day Dartathalon – July 14th at The Pour House in East Falls. See e-mail for details.

 

7/7/07 – Global Harriettes Run in Berwyn – It is over, but next year plan for 8/8/08.

 

Phillies Tailgate – August 11th – Cousin It may need a ride

 

The rest of the night:

 

I went inside to escape the rain and the 100% humidity. Strap On and I found the crack box near the front door. (Minus the rest of the crack box team)

 

We played for a while, so if something interesting happened after that, I am really not sure. I don’t think anything really did, I saw some hashers slinking on out. After a few He’s a Lesbian cop stories (some that involved parking tickets) and a few Yards Saisons, I headed on out.

 

On, on, YFF

UHA

 

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BFM#175 - Everyone got lei’d!

Posted on July 5, 2007

Well my notes from last week are minimal because I was busy doing some other stuff.  Plus I have a pretty wicked hangover right now, so I’ll make it short (for me).
 
The Gynocracy’s 1st Annual (maybe semi-annual?) Adventure Boat ride brought in record attendance of hashers, visitors, and guests!  Most people showed up because they were promised short to no trail. And  also that everyone would get laid. Unfortunately, that last part was a typo on the original flyer, which was corrected in later communications, but some still came for that reason.  
 
Who Came (I probably should just list who didn’t cum): 
Anal Proboner, Beagle, Bumble Beaver, Cause for Blindness, Big Tackle and Just Ma Tackle, Can You Hear Me Now?, E=MyCockSquared, Europee’n On Me, Fruit of the Clue, Heave Ho, Hold The Sausage, Holy Fuck, Jingle Ballzzz, Little Fuckin’ Winkie, Little Red Riding Wood, Nappy Headed Ho, New Kid on the Cock, Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass, Plastic Pud, Popeye’s Bitch, Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, She Man, Skin Fiddle, Stacks, Sloppy Ho, Strap-On, The Rash, Tickle My Elmo, 2 Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Virgin Pimp, Just Diane, Thunder Things (Thighs!), Bitchard, Jubal, Target, Cousin IT, Meat Tenderized, Wild Bill, Hand Job, Himalaya, Sternum in Rectum, Indiana Bones and the Temple of Poon, Just Joe, Just Chris, Just Steve, Just Jennifer, Just Danielle, Just Sandy. One of the Just’s is actually Preparation H from EWH3, but I don’t remember because you gave me your nerd name when I asked you. If I missed anybody, it you probably got off without paying, so lucky you!
 
The Mob gathered outside of Cherry Street Tavern for Sloppy Ho’s chalk talk. Sloppy and co-hare Indiana Bones led the Mob on the r*nners’ trail while I led everyone else through "shiggy" and train tracks on the walkers’ trail. This may be the only time reported in the trash that Target was the FRB. We arrived at the boat at the same time as the r*nners, as the dark storm clouds moved in threatening to break open at any second. The problem was that there was no boat at the dock, so we had to wait 15 minutes until it returned from its earlier tour. While we waited, Europee’n leid everyone, while the Gynocracy passed out PBRs to impatient hashers.  
 
The Mob made it on board the boat just as the rain becan with our 7 cases of PBR. And we were off on our great adventure!   No … wait!   Turn the boat around. There are 3 hashers standing on the dock waving for us to go back. Ok, Heave Ho and co. were late getting ice for the beer, so we felt like we owed them.   
 
After we’d set sail on our one hour tour, we quickly learned the unspoken “rules” of the boat because the boat owner would frequently come over and yell at us if we broke one of them. Like he had eyes in the back of his head or something.  
  1. Don’t touch the air conditioner even if it’s 90 degrees on the boat. Not even a low fan. It will blow the generator and we will all float out to sea.
  2. Don’t pour your beer in a cup while you are in the cabin. You can pour your beer in a cup on the outside deck and then bring it in the cabin.
  3. Don’t open the windows. Even if it’s 90 degrees inside the boat. Get assistance from a boat employee.
  4. Don’t spill your beer.
  5. Don’t stand up in front of the Captain while he tries to drive the ship. Ok I can understand that one. 
 
After the Mob was informed of the basic rules and where everything was on the boat Winkie wanted to know what happens if he has diarrhea. After we were clear on that, the circle was opened by Sloppy Ho.
 
First In … Last In:
Meat Tenderized … Heave Ho, obviously
 
Hares:
Sloppy Ho, Indiana Bones, Holy Fuck
 
Visitors:
Indiana Bones from Sri Lanka showed her tits
Preparation H from LA and EWH3 showed a tattoo
 
Virgin:
For some reason I think this was also Preparation H, but I don’t know why he’d drink for being a virgin too.
 
Cums Lately:
She Man
 
Autohashers:
Up Her Ali  who brought her car to the dock.  “I was loading the beer!”
 
Sloppy opened up the circle for “General Grievances” at this point, which I’m not sure everyone (including myself) understood the difference between those and “Accusations”. So here are the “Grievances/Accusations”:
 
-Can You Hear Me Now? accused Holy Fuck for whining about my one nettle at last weeks’ hash.
 
-Meat Tenderized accused CYHMN of running BEFORE the hash and changing.
 
-E=MC2 accused Stacks of attention grabbing with her injury from last week
 
-Fruit of the Clue accused Heave Ho and her virgin for making us turn around and go back for them.
 
-NNFA accused Sloppy Ho of running a triathalon… and when one hare drank all hares drank!
-Someone accused Jingle Ballzzz of getting ‘dissed by a midget’ and not wearing his prom shirt.
 
-CYHMN accused Hold the Sausage of drinking out of an open container inside the boat. I believe the rules were you cannot POUR in the boat.   And when one GM drank, Scooby Snatch and Tickle My Elmo drank. He later accused her of “not learning her lesson” and continuing to drink out of her BFM glass.
 
Announcements:
-Philly Blue Moon Hash on Friday the 29th
 
-South Asian Interhash September 27-29th
 
-4th of July Party hosted by Fruit of the Clue, CYHMN, and Holy Fuck at FOTC’s 2pm
 
-Hashtille Day July 14th
 
- Cause is still single. But getting action.
 
 
We had a longer-than-we-had-paid-for boat ride up and down the Schuykill, which doesn’t look half as dirty at night. After about an hour-twenty, we arrived back at the dock. Half of the hashers went to Cherry Street and the other half to Bonners for karaoke. Once the hash cash was all spent at Cherry Street, this half of the Mob either headed over to Bonners or headed home. I was in the headed home group. I’ve heard the stories, and seen the pictures, but since I wasn’t there to personally witness the subsequent events that took place, you are all off the hook. 
 
On, on!
Holy Fuck
 
Overheard at the Hash:
"If anyone wants my nuts, they’ll be outside" – 2 Clump Chump
 
 
 
 

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