BFMH3 #183 - When a Sausage Party IS a Sausage Party

Posted on August 29, 2007

23 August 2007 – PHILADELPHIA: Ah, the memories. How wonderful it is to once again spend the better part of a Wednesday night procrastinating when I could be writing the trash. Why is the GM writing the trash, you ask? Firstly, calling me Wonder Woman at BFM #180 has gone to my head (that will teach you wankers to be more discriminating with your accusations) and secondly, I was the only member of mismanagement present for the better part of the hash. (It did take me practically the entire trail to realize that no on-secs were present. My preparedness was evident as my notes were written on an old boarding pass and I had to borrow a pen from the bartender). 
 
As I arrived at Krupa’s a relieved looking Cunting Season exclaimed, “Thank God you’re here, it’s a total sausage party again!” The male dominated crowd included Big Tackle, Can You Hear Me Now?, Cousin It, He’s a Lesbian, Jingle Ballz, Just Abby, Just Adam, Just Brian, Just Jeff, Just Kevin, Just Matt, Lick Hymen, visitor Milky Discharge, Rear Engineer, Save a Horse Ride a Tuba (who insisted her name was still Just Diane), Soft Core ANALyst, Son of Goat F*cker, Tight Lips, Two Clump Chump, and Where’s My Vagina. I soon realized that the bar was devoid of straws for the hare selection process, but before I could formulate a plan B, the always (over) eager Two Clump Chump volunteered to hare and scampered off with five pounds of flour. The trail went north on 27th Street and snaked through Fairmount before heading downhill and across Kelly Dr. to the back of the Art Museum. The mob groaned loudly as the hare treated us to a climb up a steep hill. Blobs of flour led the mob through that creepy, stinky tunnel under the Museum before crossing back over the Parkway near the Franklin Institute. Here the marks began to grow thin. Eventually the marks disappeared altogether. Luckily, the mob was close enough to the bar to declare an On In. 
 
Back at the bar the sweaty mob nominated He’s a Lesbian hash cash for the evening and joined the autohashers with pitchers of sudsy beverage. Rear Engineer professed his desire to try his hand at RA-ing for the evening. Due to the critical lack of mismanagement, his request was promptly granted and the circle began.
 
Hare:
Two Clump Chump – who was roasted for too much flour, not enough uphill, and was rumored to have been caught on trail
 
Virgins:
Just Abby – brought by the hasher formerly known as Just Diane
Just Adam – made himself cum
Just Jeff and Just Matt Just Brian made them BOTH cum
 
Visitors:
Milky Discharge – from San Francisco Gypsies H3 – elected to drop his shorts before he even introduced himself to the BFM, prompting Can You Hear Me Now? to declare, “That’s how they greet themselves every week.”
 
Autohashers:
Fruit of the Clue, Popeye’s Bitch, Skin Fiddle, and Up Her Ali
 
First In/Last In:
Son of Goat Fucker (no surprise) and Jingle Ballz (he was lured by the still absent Lick Hymen to an ill-fated attempt at an impromptu beer check)
 
Accusations:
Two Clump Chump – for throwing flour onto an open grate when he should have been conserving it
Just Matt – for sporting a cowboy hat on trail, with fellow Texas people Just Jeff and Fruit of the Clue
Can You Hear Me Now? – for having performance anxiety and mumbling “Uhhhh….” instead of an actual accusation – he quickly recovered to accuse Two Clump Chump for standing on the beer check
Cousin It – for walking in and immediately spilling beer on the floor
Up Her Ali and Rear Engineer – for f*cking up a song
Just Brian – for staying with his virgin for the entire trail – Can You Hear Me Now? revealed that they were spooning on trail
Up Her Ali – for disappearing trash #180
 
The circle was then closed and reopened several times. Here are the highlights:
 
Further Accusations:
Milky Discharge – for a racing hat and a 26.2 tattoo
He’s a Lesbian – for putting Two Clump Chump in danger on trail
Save a Horse Ride a Tuba – for not embracing her name
Just Kevin – for pointing in the circle and being the over eager new guy
 
Renaming:
The hasher formerly known as Just Diane and now formerly known as Save a Horse Ride a Tuba  was renamed The Horse Whacker, a warped combination of The Horse Whisperer and the nickname given to the anonymous masturbator at her workplace, The Phantom Whacker
 
Even Further Accusations:
He’s a Lesbian – for falsely accusing Hold the Sausage of something
Pelvis Has Left the Building – for being a late autohasher and a cums lately and for dressing like Where’s Waldo
Fruit of the Clue – for pointing and for tech in the circle
Soft Core ANALyst – for pointing
Just Kevin – for a false accusation, for being Kevin, and for “convincing us he’s a man”
Rear Engineer – for believing Just Kevin is a man
 
Naming:
Due to his exceptional enthusiasm and skill displayed during a rendition of the song, Just Kevin will henceforth be known as The S&M Man. If for any reason you choose to question the merit of this particular naming, I guarantee that plying Kevin with several pints of beer and listening to him sing will quell any doubts. 
 
Two Clump Chump and He’s a Lesbian also detailed the rumored capture of the hare. Apparently HAL attempted to overtake the hare on trail as he began ascending the hill behind the Art Museum. After a failed pant-sing attempt, the spry hare proved too quick. Not to be defeated so easily, the ever-resourceful HAL shouted, “Stop him! He took my money!” in the presence of several men 2CC described as persons of “questionable legality.” The helpful non-natives offered, “We’re packing heat, want us to get him?” 
 
And so the circle closed for the final time. The mob soon decided to move on to The Green Room to continue its debauchery. Whether the rest of the evening was good, bad, disastrous, or otherwise, we will never know. Because the trash ends here.
 
 
 
On On, bitches,
 
Hold the Sausage
 
 
 
 
Announcements:
Labor Day Hash August 30th
 
 
Overheard at the Hash:
Where is Lick Hymen? – random hashers
 
The odds are good, but the goods are odd… — Harriettes commenting on the male/female ratio
 
We haven’t had namings, we’ve had lame-ings. – CYHMN? commenting on quality of recent names
 
He’s a bitch! – CYHMN? randomly expressing his love for Fiber Opdick
 
My roommate’s in Memphis. Bitch! – Pelvis, also expressing her love
 

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BFM #182 – We Didn’t Get The Crabs

Posted on August 23, 2007

After 4 failed attempts at extreme parallel parking between a Mini Cooper and SUV outside of Callahan’s, I began to realize why no one else had snagged this rock star spot. I sometimes get cocky with the Beetle because it fits mostly anywhere.  I’d have needed the help of those Mentos ("The freshmaker") ogres in denim overalls to pick up my car and plop it in the parking space. But they never come when you need them.  

A couple of  things about Callahan’s… The beers on tap are generally flat and have a suspiciously sweet taste. They always have a sign up that says, “Crabs are Back!” on the little chalkboard behind the bar.  Where did they go?  And do we really trust seafood from this place? I’ve seen their kitchen, and I’m only ordering fries. Then there’s the infamous picture on the wall of a dead bald cop that everyone claims looks “just like Lesbian” (In reality, the only similarities here are they both  A. are bald and B. were cops). But the most important thing I can say about Callahans, and the reason I actually like this place, is they pretty much let you do whatever the fuck you want.
 
When I walked into the bar, Lick Hymen told me he already had a really good quote for the trash: “Sloppy Ho said she wants crabs tonight!”   2 Clump Chump quickly reminded me that everyone makes that joke.  So it wasn’t really that original or very funny.  Rumors were swirling that Sloppy wanted to yet again rename Lick Hymen (formerly Barry Maniblow) to “Queerly I’m Straight.”   Now THAT was funny.  Talking to Hold the Sausage about my failed park job with bar patrons watching, she recalled how the whole bar had once cheered her for changing her shirt in the car before the hash.
 
Who Came:
 3 Balls, Lick Hymen, Tight Lips, 2 Clump Chump, Mayor Quimby, Where’s My Vagina, Europee’n On Me, Sloppy Ho, Holy Fuck, Hold the Sausage, Up Her Ali, Mr. Snuffleupamuff (he wanted me to confirm for you all that is the correct spelling of his name), He’s a Lesbian, Scooby Snatch, Popeye’s Bitch, Son of A Goat Fucker,  Cousin IT, Well Hung Jury, Can You Hear Me Now?, Virgin Pimp, Just Kevin.
 
The hares soon arrived, including Anal Proboner and Jingle Ballzzz, hare helper Soft Core Anal-ist, and APB’s friend, affectionately known as “Dick Head.” Apparently he got punched helping to lay the trail, but I didn’t get the whole story on that.   With all this manpower laying “trail” one would think it would have gone a bit smoother for the pack that evening. 
 
Sloppy did the chalk talk and the Mob was informed by the hares that there were to be “0 to 4 beer checks.” .. but most likely there would be 4.  We excitedly headed down South Street with instructions from APB to “turn right on 24th” because apparently the trail crossed itself … a foreshadowing of things to come. 
 
Making the right turn as instructed, the Mob found trail going left a block later on 23rd, which put us right back on South Street where we just were.  It didn’t make any sense, but no one cared. At this point I noticed Scooby Snatch running behind me, bending down to sniff my butt.  Peculiar?  “You’re right – voted best smelling hasher!” he yelled out to everyone.   2 Clump ran up and explained, “I just told him when I get lost on trail, I smell for you. He then decided to sniff your butt for some reason.” 
 
Despite the hare’s initial instructions to steer us to the On-On, it appeared that the Mob had found its way back to the No-No, hitting the 4th beer check first.  I was the last person getting to the check since I had to stop and write all this down.   Hearing clapping and “ooooohh”-ing from the Mob inside APB’s living room, I walked in to see them all crowded around the TV set looking at what appeared to be porn.  Much to everyone’s chagrin, it turned out to be a very misleading Levi’s ad.   You didn’t think APB would leave her porn channel on, did you?   Since we were helpless to find the real trail again, APB gave us exact directions to the next beer check.   All we had to do was take the Schuykill path and look for the “little house”.  Got it.
 
So there were like 3 or 4 “little houses” we came across on the path.  The house we wanted happened to be the furthest away. Something resembling an arrow (no need for a silly “BN”) was drawn about 30 yards from the “little house”, which directed the Mob through a gate onto the train tracks. I should mention it was pitch black out a this point, something the hares may not have thought about when they laid trail, and now we were heading into a spooky dark tunnel. The cruel joke waiting for us there was a 6 pack of O’Doul’s.  The Mob did not find the humor in this and decided to get the hell out of there.
 
We soon ran into Jingle Ballzz who was waving at us to stop, yelling “You missed the beer!”  He shooed us back toward the path and spooky tunnel.  Most people were reluctant at first, asking if he would just bring the beer back to us.  But we followed him eventually and he dug real beer out of the black hole, as the Mob impatiently waited.  Apparently the hare-brained scheme was to have rootbeer and O’Douls at 2 of the 4 checks.  Again, not funny.  But this plan had gone awry, much like the trail, and they decided to end it here with real beer. 
 
Once the beer had been broughten, the Mob reconvened on the dark tracks. Lick Hymen spotlighted the beer stash for everyone with his cell phone/GPS/radio/flashlight he generally has strapped to his ass..  Showing their gynocratic class and spirit, Hold the Sausage and Up her Ali decided to shot gun their beers. Others soon followed suit. “I need someone to do it with!” yelled Mr Snuffleupamuff.  Just Kevin, new and eager to please, did it with him.  JingleBallzz offered me his secret stash of Dogfish Head, which he oddly had poured into a ba-ba.  I don’t know why, but I took that nipple in my mouth and sucked out its hoppy goodness. 
 
Because it had been such an effort getting here and getting real beer, the Mob stayed at the check longer than usual.  When a random a capella sing-along of Don’t Stop Believin’ started up, things got wild.  Including more shotgunning of beers and drinking through nipples.   I had an epiphany to create a BFM beer bong for moments such as this.   Lick Hymen’s cell phone/GPS/radio/flashlight/microwave/DVD started playing a tune. “Why is your ass singing?” Lesbian asked him.  With this, 2 Clump Chump, knowing I was taking notes, perfected his retort/trash quote (he seriously said 3 versions, but I only captured the last one):  “The question is…why are you singing back?”   Good one, Clump.
 
Some of the “serious” r*nners decided it was now time to head on bar.  I met up with Virgin Pimp somewhere on the long journey back, who told me a marathon story about a marathon. The story took almost the whole run back, so I’ll bottom line it for you… He told all the nay-sayers he could run it in 4 hours … and he ended up coming in at 3:59:59. Truly a story of courage and triumph.  A man with a dream.  Much like the tale of E=My Cock Squared who had a goal to beat Lance Armstrong and … oh wait, that didn’t happen.  
 
We were joined by CYHMN on our last leg of the trip, at which point we were walking. The conversation naturally turned to aliens and how can we be sure that people CANT actually read our brain waves.  CYHMN argued why not, when there are people out there with 3 vaginas? Good point. Virgin Pimp said that he’d read about people with 2 vaginas in Dan Savage’s column “SAVAGE LOVE”.  According to Pimp, Dan Savage is a flaming homosexual who gives advice on eating pussy.  And he has coined the term “Santorum”: A frothy mix of semen, lube and a little fecal matter that oozes out of the asshole after sex. Funny, Pimp quoted that word for word off the top of his head…it was like Santorum just rolled freely off his tongue, as he spoke.  Frothy.
 
FIRST IN
Cousin IT???  Something’s up.
 
LAST IN
Mayor Quimby and Lick Hymen who fought over this honor
 
HARES
Jingle Ballzzz
Anal Proboner… who apparently may be renamed (respelled) to “Anal Probe-Oh No!”
 
VISITORS/VIRGINS
Just Kevin – Ran once with Philly Hash this week.  Showed his nipple.  Grrrrrrrr.
Where’s My Vagina? – From San Francisco .. told a joke a about a Teepee and Wigwam (two tents)
 
AUTOHASHER
Just Diane
 
ACCUSATIONS
2 Clump – for introducing himself to the new girl as “2 Pump Chump”
Sloppy Ho – for our RA still having a cheat sheet. 
2 Clump – for his overly competitive “Tri-Athlete” teeshirt
Scooby – for actually being an overly competitive tri-athlete
Anal Pro-Boner – for having her friend “Dick Head” punched in the face laying the trail
Scooby – for not molesting Mayor Quimby’s sister this year at his party
Hares – For planning 2 beer checks with rootbeer and O’Doul’s
 
 Sloppy Ho thenopened the floor for everyone to provide reasons how they know Lick Hymen is Gay. I didn’t hear them all, but there are sooo many.  You know how I know Lick Hymen is gay?
- He went to dinner with Jingle Ballzzz last Tuesday
- At said dinner, the other “couple” were remarking that they thought he was gay
- He has too much ‘product’ in his hair for a hasher
- He actually drank the O’Douls tonight
- He wears a fanny pack on his butt
 
Next, Just Diane was brought to her knees by Sloppy Ho to receive her hash moniker.  Some fun facts about Diane:  She’s a chemical engineer who wants to be a vet.  She owns a horse named Chunk.  She plays the tuba. 
 
After several tries with Luba My Tuba, Rides the Chunk, Likes It Bareback, Butt Plug in her Ear (why???), the Mob brilliantly tied the facts together and came up with  Save a Horse, Ride a Tuba.
 
Now it was time to do what we do best at Callahans… Flippy Cup!!  I don’t know why this is the only bar I’ve ever been in that allows this blatant display of drinking debauchery.  I’ve had chase quarters games shut down at other bars.  Tame in comparison to beer being splashed all over people, tables, and floors with cups flying in the air.
 
There was a table of chicks next to our group who eventually joined our ongoing tourney. Lesbian recognized one of them as the daughter of his old barber.  “Obviously I haven’t seen him in a while,” he said.   Obviously.   After 2 rounds and finally losing because Lick Hymen cannot flip (tho’ he IS a master of kickball and foosball), I decided to retire from the game and head out to Grays Ferry for a McDonalds run with Popeye’s Bitch.  Chicken Selects and fries … supersized. 
 
On, on!
Holy Fuck
 
Overheard at the hash:
“Whats wrong with butt sex?”  - Virgin Pimp
“It’s TOO big” – Two Clump Chump
“I come … and I go” – Mr Snuffleupamuff
 
 
 

 

 

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BFM Hash #180 - Kellianns Part Deux – Doin’ it UCity Style

Posted on August 17, 2007

So, I could have done this trash before today, but the following things were more attractive this past week:
 
-         Beating Rick at two out of three non-competitive events at Eagles Mere Sports Week (they were the Frisbee throw and foul shooting in case you care – which I am sure you don’t)
-         Badly Swimming ¾ mile in a lake when I haven’t swam in many, many years and also after many, many years picking up a Tennis racket and losing to 60 year olds
-         Listening to extended family members repeat stories over and over again until all you can do is nod and stare blankly (kinda like the hash)
-         Getting lost in the woods after hiking a five mile trail and being saved by forest rangers.
 
Son of a Goat Fucker offered to write trash and I didn’t take him up on the offer. Next time… I definitely will…
 
Who appeared on this sultry night to tackle Spruce Hill and UCity:
Son of a Goat Fucker, Lick Hymen, Plastic Pud, Just Bridget, Mr Snuff my Something, Cousin It, Just Alice, Just Megan, Sloppy Ho, Anal Proboner, Two Clump Chump, Popeye’s Biatch, Mayor Quimby, Soft Core Anal-ist, Rash, Holy Fuck, Stacks, Skin Fiddle, Big Tackle, Just Alexandra, Cunting Season, Tastes Like Chicken, Jingle Balzzz, Nappy Headed Ho, Likes the Hard One, Just Jackie, Rear Engineer, Just Timo, Little F-ing Winkie, Just Brian, Hold the Sausage, Well Hung Jury, and the people who were there but I couldn’t read my handwriting…
 
The trail:
 
The trail started out down 45th street towards Locust St. From there, we went past the Rotunda on 40th st and headed East. At some point, I got tired and was lazy and started walking back to the bar with Hold the Sausage. We had the bright idea to try to find the beer check, which we knew was a few blocks from the bar. The other bright idea was to follow the trail backward to find the beer check. We picked up Mayor Quimby on the way. After a while of casing nearby blocks, we were unable to find beer. Some of the Spruce Hill neighbors were concerned about us being lost… but alas, they could not lead us to beer…
 
The circle:
 
With a nose for beer, the pack generally makes it back to the bar….eventually…
 
We collected the hash cash and started dolling out beer. The circle started shortly thereafter and this is what I remember or could read from my handwriting:
 
Hare: Likes the Hard One
 
Virgins:
Just Jackie – Likes the Hard One made her cum – do we have photographic evidence??
Just Laura – Rear Engineer swears he never made her cum
Just Timo – Just Alexandra made her cum
 
First In – Anal Proboner
Last In – Big Tackle (must have actually ran the rest of the trail after the beer check)
 
Autohashers – Mayor Quimby, Skin Fiddle, Mr Snuff my Something, Lick Hymen
 
Long Time No See’ers – Tastes Like Chicken, Winkie, Stacks
 
Accusations
 
Nappy Headed accused Just Megan of having new shoes
 
Winkie accused Just Anastasia of falling on a small crack
 
Well Hung Jury accused Lick Hymen/Mango of having too many buttons unbuttoned on his shirt
 
Someone accused Heave Ho of not pooping in the bathroom since it was too dirty
 
Winkie accused Hold the Sausage of having a wonder womyn costume on…
 
Sloppy Ho was accused of not being at the last hash or I think any of us crazy mismanagement…
 
Then we were made aware of the side-sides…
 
Anal ProBoner
Soft Core Anal-ists
 
More autohashers – Fruit of the Clue and Scooby Snatch
 
Naming
 
Sloppy opened the floor to name Just Alice
 
We learned the following things about Just Alice:
She loves $1 tacos and she likes to smell her fingers after
She grew up in Drexel Hill
She went to the University of the Sciences
She sells drugs for a living
Her favorite animal is a donkey
Her favorite position is from behind
She likes to fall down
She was Mary Of Dunlar in an Irish Pageant
 
The potential names came in:
Little Miss from Behind
Little Miss Crack Addict
Sloppy Ass Kisser
Fish Taco
Pink Fish Taco
 
Just Alice was named Sloppy Ass Kisser…
 
The circle was moved to the closed.. and Cause the Broken is still single…
 
Announcements:
 
What hasn’t passed yet – Aug 24th – Full Moon – check your e-mail
Phillies Tailgate 2008 – Date TBD
 
Other stuff happened but not too much….
 
The Kazachs danced to the tunes
Jingle Balzzz was chased with handcuffs by Anal Pro Boner
Virgin Pimp and FOTC chatted up the new ladies
Something came up about Hold the Sausage’s tits and Hello Kitty
Mr Snuff my Something was expressing his displeasure about the chic soundtrack
 
I will leave the rest to a good dose of revisionist history…
 
On, on, YFF
Up Her Ali
 

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BFM #181 – Winkie’s Last Stand

Posted on August 15, 2007

We had heard about it - the first time when he was accepted to grad school. Then, it came as random reminders as the summer progressed. This week, we heard about it every bloody day - Winkie’s last hash with the BFM. Maybe they came because they wanted to hash. Maybe they came because they were thirsty. Maybe they came because they wanted to hear Sloppy Ho sing Don’t Stop Believin’. Maybe they came to get out of the rain. Or maybe, just maybe, they came because they were sick of the emails. But they came…
 
Big Tackle, Cause for Blindness, Cousin It, Cunting Season, Dry Hump, E = My Cock 2^, Europee’n on Me, Fiber Opdick, Hold the Sausage, Holy Fuck, Insane in the Membrane, Jingle Ballzzz, Likes the Hard One, Little Fucking Winkie, Little Red Riding Wood, Lunar Digit, Mayor Quimby, Mr. Snuff Up a Muff, Mulva, Nappy-Headed Ho, Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass, Poop Weiner, Popeye’s Bitch, Rear Engineer, Skin Fiddle, Sly Fox, Softcore Analyst, Son of a Goat Fucker, Sloppy Ass Kisser, Sloppy Ho, Strap-On, Suck Yer Dad, Taint Me, Tastes Like Chicken, The Rash, Virgin Pimp, Well Hung Jury, Just Brian, Just Chad, Just Diane, Just Chris, Just Joe, Just Jenny, Just Kyle, Just Anastasia, Just Jeremiah, Just Tima
 
I walked into Bonner’s and the party was in full swing. It felt like everyone and their neighbor came out to see Little Fucking Winkie off into the land of the Beerly Departed.  As I weaved my way through the mob, he was standing there, smack dab in the middle, big smile on his face, taking the moment in.
 
I spotted Just Diane, actually dressed in hash gear. Could she be at 100%?  Nope, not quite but she was walking trail.  I greeted and hugged our man of the hour as he happily snapped photos.  As I walked to stash my gear, I ran into Mayor Quimby.  His gal, Stan, was with him and she had some very peculiar white goo around her mouth.  I think Quimby was pimpin’ Stan out again to pay for parking.  However, Holy Fuck did point out that, otherwise, Stan’s been well cared for.  With gear stashed, Rear Engineer asked, partly to himself, partly to me, “wonder if I have time for a beer before circle?”  Nope.  It was time to circle up.
 
As the mob reconvened outside Bonner’s the rain began to fall. Sloppy Ho, welcomed the mob with her typical “snatch air-out” and called the virgins into the circle. Everyone looked around. Huh. With the numbers that had turned out, surprisingly, we had no virgins…probably because Winkie slept with them all. Instead she called for a volunteer to tell a joke. Mayor Quimby and Stan stepped up.
 
            A father and his daughter were in the bathroom preparing for the day. The daughter asks her father, “Daddy, when will I get a penis of my own?” the father replied, “when your mother goes to work.”
 
That sick bastard.
 
The pack was off into the rainy night. We headed up Samson and then over on 22nd.  As we crossed 22nd on Chestnut, I watched Just Mike practically take out a dude with a big white umbrella. We continued up Chestnut to 19th Street and then headed over to Locust. We headed down to 17th and then ended ujp at 15th and Walnut where we found our hare, Winkie, covered in white flour goo. Hey, wait! Stan had the same white goo around her mouth…. Winkie informed us that E=My Cock 2^ had caught him.  By now the rain was really falling.  Knowing our destination, we made a bee-line for McGillian’s.
 
Like a pack of rats that had just jumped ship, the mob filed in one by one, into McGillians. As I walked in the door, two large bouncers were sizing Holy Fuck and I up. I momentarily held my breath and then I heard the bigger bouncer say, “let ‘em in.” I exhaled, wiped the sweaty rainwater from my forehead and headed upstairs.
 
As we stood around drinking $5 pitchers of Coors Light, watching pre-season football and chatting with the Texas Hold ’em participants, we realized that somehow we managed to lose half the mob. What was even more curious was that we were missing our hare, E. We found ourselves with a bit of a dilemma on our hands. We didn’t have flour. Where would we pick up trail? Where did E go? We finished off the remaining pitchers and with no hare in sight, headed downstairs and out into the rain. As we gathered among the puddles, Sloppy presented our dilemma to the mob. It took no time at all for the mob to come to a solution: On-bar!
 
Hare(s):
Little Fucking Winkie
E=My Cock 2^
 
I was busy taking care of mis-management duties, like collecting hash cash, taking photos, buying beer and helping with the cake so I missed parts of circle.
 

Virgins:

 

Auto-hashers:

  • Cause for Blindness
  • Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass
  • Skin Fiddle

 

At some point during circle, the other half of the missing mob showed up.

 

Accusations:

 
Accusations opened the floor for stories about Winkie -
E gave a nice speech about how little work Winkie did as GM, and how he tells everyone that he started the BFM but others like Tastes Like Chicken, Cunting Season, and the beery departed Sarah, were all co-founders.
 
The Rash and Tastes Like Chicken threw in a few words…but I missed them!
 
Sloppy Ho then told the story about how Winkie was used by a virgin as a test drive for the dude she really wanted to sleep with.
 
Announcements:
 
The last official BFM circle for Winkie was closed. The mob headed out to do what it does best- drink beer…
 
On, On!
Europee’n on Me

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