With the hash on South Philly, I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to walk to the hash. So, I decided to take my new bike out for a spin. This all seems easy, except I live on the 3^rd floor, it is a 45 degree angle up the stairs to my apartment, and my bike is really heavy. Despite the odds, I made it down the stairs without any major injuries.

 

The address of the Triangle Tavern is 1338 Reed Street. Thus, in Philly standard geography the bar would be at 13^th and Reed streets. Not so fast partner, this here is Southie. In Southie, we throw out the grid and do whatever the F we want to. We park where we want to, we label the streets however we want to, we smoke in bars despite the smoking ban; you get the drift you, you…Yankee!

 

Upon reaching the corner of 13^th and Reed, I wasn’t the only one lost. I ran into two equally confused folks, Just Billy and Two Clump Chump. After some scouting, we found the Triangle on the corner of Reed and Passyunk. Nifty Fifty’s used to be across the street but it has since been replaced by Rita’s Wadur Ice.

 

The participants in this week’s episode of Lost included: Sloppy Ho, Son of a Goat F*cker, Europe’en On Me, Just Laura, Just Kyle (who was named something, but I forgot the name), Snap On, Can U Hear Me Now, Two Clump Chump, Dry Hump, Teflon, Little Red Riding Wood, Just Liz, Popeye’s Bitch, Where’s My Vagina, Soft Core Anal-ist, S&M Man, Rear Engineer, Fire Down Under,

Sloppy Ass Kisser, Nappy Headed Ho, Bastard Child, Hold the Sausage, Flabbio, etc.

 

The bartender of the Triangle is awesome. He let Sloppy, Can You and I park our bikes inside. This calmed all of my fears of the relentless, evil Philly bike thieves.  

 

After fielding many calls from lost stragglers, Hold the Sausage began passing out the straws to determine the night’s lucky hare. The first round went awry when the short straw “accidentally” dropped to the floor. Where’s My Vagina pulled the short straw in the 2^nd round. Soft Core Anal-ist agreed to co-hare and they were off.

 

While waiting at the bar for the trail to start, some random thoughts came to me:

 

Teflon, back from NM, and Dry Hump, straight out of NJ, are good friends. However, they remind me of the clubbing pair from Saturday Night Live. You know the ones who tilt their heads to the side to the Baby Don’t Hurt Me song.

 

Europe’en was sporting a warm winter cap. It made me colder just thinking about how cold it is about to become.

 

LRRW was showing her Phillies pride with her cap.

 

Can You Hear Me Now was sitting pensively in a chair waiting for the run to start.

 

It was a smaller crowd than normal. Perhaps all were saving up their energy for next week’s bar crawl or they are too lazy to head South to Southie.

 

 

It was eventually time to start the trail. Sloppy ushered us out into the chilly night.

 

Sloppy mentioned some of our awesome special events coming up in December:

Hash 201 is actually the BFM 200^th. 200^th is Festivus. Got it bitches!

 

At some point during the intro circle, Dry Hump had his hands in his pants. I don’t think this is all that unusual.

 

Then, we were off. (You know, like a horse race)

 

We headed out down Reed St and were immediately check hung. This would be a theme for the rest of the trail. This group is never so close together on trail unless we are just plain lost. But…we were just plain lost during a majority of the trail.

 

The pack also needed a good lesson in Hash 101. When you are looking for trail and someone says, “R U?” you respond with “checking”, “looking”, and not dead silence. When someone calls “False”, don’t look so confused.

 

As we were check hung again in front of a Dry Cleaner, Two Clump made a funny. “Wow, it must be a dry cleaner since there are so many hangers.” (clever, very clever…)

 

As the run went on, the neighborhoods just got shadier. We knew we had to get to Mifflin and something for the beer check, but what and Mifflin? We knew Little Red Riding Wood would know, but where was she? Finally, we were smack in the ghetto. The neighbors seemed pretty entertained by us. Only one dude called us “Mother F*ckers”. I think he meant that literally. Mr. Snuffmysomething found some Herpes mattresses from a neighborhood crack house. Hey, crack addicts are people too!

 

Eventually, we found the trail and we were off again. It’s funny how we all get faster and quieter in the ghetto. We found Mifflin Street and the beer check. We were happy! The beer check was at Michael’s Place at 12^th and Mifflin. We all know what block Michael’s Place is on for future reference and we were not so far away from the start after all. It just seemed like forever on trail. Hmm, it confirms it; this area of South Phila really is the Bermuda triangle…

 

After the beer check, we headed back to the Triangle. We passed a nice neighborhood with a bunch of nice restaurants. In the middle of this nice street, there was a talking water fountain. It was crazy! (To add even more strangeness to our evening in the S. Phila Bermuda triangle)

 

Arriving back, the bartender bought us pizza. Again, he rules! Nothing like a few beers and free dinner, the Triangle rules, even though it’s part of the SPBT (South Phila Bermuda Triangle)  

 

 

First, we toasted the bartender for the free pizza and being generally cool. Then, we were down to bizness…

 

Hares: Where’s My Vagina and Soft Core Anal-ist. The trail didn’t have enough herpes mattresses, unmarked checks, and not enough time in the ghetto.

 

Virgin – Just Liz and she made herself cum. (woo hoo!)

 

Visitors – Teflon from NM and Flabbio from San Diego

Teflon told a joke we have heard about 10 times. Flabbio showed us his junk. We didn’t really need to see it.

 

First In – Little Red Riding Wood and she drank again for head gear in circle

 

Last In – Where’s My Vagina

 

Autohashers – Scams Old Ladies, Bastard Child, Mr Snuffamymuff (Stan Stealer!)

 

Long Time No See-ers – Nappy Headed Ho, Sloppy Ass Kisser, Teflon, Bastard Child

And when one sloppy drinks, and when one ho drinks – Sloppy Ho drank

 

Accusations:

 

Snap On was accused of whining on trail.

 

Flabbio was accused of bragging about overachieving with Sarah Cunter – beerly departed

 

Sloppy was accused of dropping her cell phone in the toilet.

Two Clump made his second funny of the evening, “So, I guess you made a lot of sh*tty phone calls)

 

Sloppy was accused of pointing in circle by S&M man. Then, he had to drink for pointing in circle.

 

Soft Core Anal-ist drank for his eyeglasses.

 

Hold the Sausage drank for giving us all bad directions to the Bermuda Triangle

 

Hares were accused of not marking an ‘F’ for falses

 

S&M man made some false accusation on the hash cash beer

 

Nappy Headed Ho and Fabbio drank for something

 

Where’s My Vagina was accused of losing her credit card at the beer check bar and finding it in her pocket

 

Rear Engineer drank for messing up a hash song

 

Bastard Child – Haring on Nov 10^th at his house in the lovely Brandywine Valley.

 

Holy F*ck It’s a Europe’en Oktoberfest – I hear it was a good time.

 

Snap On – Was playing in Manayunk on Saturday

 

Ski Trip – Register Now - $245 until Nov. (everything included, even a non-stop game of Tit Your It)

 

200^th Hash – Coming up in December and it will be better than the boat ride – bitches!

 

On the Date of the 200^th – Festivus

 

Next week – BFM Fall Bar Crawl – It will start at the Cherry Street Tavern and end at Cavanaugh’s River Deck – Be there and bring your party pants!

 

 

Not too much else happened. We drank beer. We socialized. We got drunk. We left.

 

On, on, YFF

 

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Apparently the bartender from the previous Friday’s Full Moon Hash bar brawl was told that the Mob would be “better behaved” tonight.  She responded that it would be a big disappointment if we were.  As we waited for everyone to get there, He’s A Lesbian was telling Fiber Opdick and me how he’d hashed in Vegas the week before and that they have a "really cool "song to the tune of I Wanna Be Sedated.  It goes something like: “20, 20, 20, 4 hours agoooo…I was masturbating.”  Fiber felt the need to tell us he "just did that 8 hours ago,"  though I’m sure it was much more recent.

After breaking free of the vicious cycle, we headed through the dog park and up over the Walnut Street bridge toward XPN.  The trail went underneath 30th Street, past the post office loading dock, where I saw a mucho grande cucaracha munching on one of our marks.  We ended up on Market Street and were heading towards 30th Street Station.   Of course we knew we were going through it.   The Mob walked briskly and smiled as we passed the nice officers and German Shepards, then headed out the opposite side of the building.  At the crossing from 29th Street onto JFK Blvd, we found a sweet note from our hares:  “Be Careful.”   Awww.  

Perhaps they should have put that note before the part of the trail that took us onto a two-foot wide cement wall bordering the Septa tracks ten feet below.  Balancing on a dangerous crumbling wall and trying to stay away from the live wires hanging a few feet above our heads, we were blasted away by the loud horn of the R5 passing next to us, which was scolding us for being there.   I looked through the trees to our right and saw that half of the pack running parallel to us on JFK. “I guess they’re the smart ones!”  I said.  Strap On disagreed: “No, they’re pussies!!!”

 Karaoke:

The circle was closed and the Mob went off to do what it does best. Sloppy Ho kicked it off with Don’t Stop Believin’.  Will we ever tire of this song?  I say no. Other hashers that rocked the mike:

NNFA -What’s Going On

Mayor Quimby – Little Pink Houses

S&M Man – Discovery Channel

Just Marcel (our Albanian needed a little help) – Dancing Queen

Scooby Snatch – You Can Call Me

CYHMN – Flagpole Sitta’

NNFA, Sloppy Ho – Total Eclipse of the Heart

Just Dan, Sloppy Ho, Allison Ho– Angels of Harlem, Just Like Heaven

Rear Engineer – Big Balls

He’s A Lesbian, Mayor Quimby – Born to Run

Son Of A Goatfucker – Give It Away. He doesn’t talk but the mofo sure can rap.

Holy Fuck, Sloppy Ho – Get This Party Started.  My friend Just Brian had ditched out of Bonner’s by the time we got called, so I want to thank Sloppy for picking up the slack! 

The Mob – Time Warp. You really have to sing like a complete freak to carry this one off and half the group didn’t know the song.

On, on!

Holy Fuck   

 

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It’s been awhile since I played On-Sec.  I’m always prepared but as I walked to Kildare’s I couldn’t remember if I had an extra pen since I gave my notepad and favorite gel pan to Holy Fuck when she scribed two weeks back.  It didn’t matter; I’d find something to write on and with. I was excited. This night we were hashing out of Kildare’s.  Each time we met up at Kil’s we had a great time…sometimes too good a time, which I always gauged based on my level of exhaustion the following day.  Sloppy Ho is for Bonner’s as I am for Kildare’s.  Maybe its because its clean and there’s lots of space…or maybe its because they have $5 car bombs…discuss amongst yourselves.

 

Who came:

As I approached, Mayor Quimby was hanging at an outside table, Guinness in hand.  After we greeted, he held up his pint and declared, “I’m having dinner.”  Nice choice.  As I got myself organized, we chatted and eavesdropped on two women at the table next to us.  The one woman was saying something, and when I write “saying”, it was more like declaring since she was loud enough that all of us around could hear, about falling down and everyone saw her panties (guess she was wearing a skirt?) and her extra socks and panties fell on the ground…??  Quimby and I looked at each other, me with a puzzled expression, him with a happy and content expression. As the women were getting up to leave Quimby stated, “Man, I gotta move to Philly.”

 

I left a Stan-less Quimby to finish his liquid dinner and take hash cash while I went inside to talk to the General Manager.  At the bar I found Big T(ackle), Fiber Opdick and Heave Ho happily talking and watching the Phillies game.

 

Our trail was pre-laid this night so everyone had time for a beer (some of us had water) before heading out.  And as the mob assembled in the upstairs bar I had time to catch up with Tastes Like Chicken, Cunting Season and Heave Ho, who went to the Inter-hash in Mexico and had a great time.

 

Well Hung Jury asked me for a time check and so we headed down to circle up.  As I walked outside, I noticed a small group of on-lookers gathering around our mob in curiosity.  A semi-inebriated man called me over. “Hey, what are you guys doing?” I replied, “We’re hashing.  We’re a drinking club with a running problem.” to which he replied, “That’s cool. I’m a runner with a drinking problem.”  Based on his slurred speech, I didn’t doubt his statement.

 

Sloppy called our virgins into the circle. Just Billy made himself cum and Skin Fiddle made Just Jean cum.  We were ready to head out but Sloppy stalled since our Back-up RA, Scooby Snatch was looking for parking.  Having nothing more to say, Sloppy wished aloud for the “the Albanian” Just Marcel, to be there to tell one of his jokes, while we waited.

 

We could wait no longer.  The mob was off!  Since Well Hung Jury had filled me in on the start of trail, I knew where to go.  So while the rest of the mob was checking at the corner of 2^nd and Lombard, Where’s My Vagina? and I headed off through the Headhouse market and down 2nd Street.  At the corner of Pine Street we ran into Scooby Snatch, who was wearing a tee stating “nice melons”.  We hit another check at 2^nd and Pine Sts but not having physically laid trail, I only had a general idea where it went.  With the mob assuming I knew where trail went, most seemed to hang back and wait for me.  Nothing like 20+ people check hanging, leaving Scooby Snatch, 2 Clump and Where’s My Vagina? to search for trail.  It was only after I declared that I didn’t know exactly where trail was, that the mob scattered to search.

 

We managed to quickly lose trail due to the fact that we were crossing trail from the week prior and were having difficulty determining old trail from new.  Rear Engineer ventured out and up at 3^rd Street and after a few "Are you?" bellows from Scooby, we heard him yell “On-On!”

 

We ran up and through Old City and at 4^th and Walnut, Where’s My Vagina? pointed at Scamming Ole’ Ladies and yelled, “Tech on trail!” and he turned, smiled and continued to chat on his cell phone.  With that, around the corner comes Fire Down Under who looked as if she was out shopping or sight-seeing and figured she’d jump into the mob.  She was wearing her glasses and had a bag slung across her shoulder.  We were still glad to see her.

 

At the corner of 11^th and Spruce STs we headed in for our first check- a shot check.  We were greeted by Sloppy Ho and Well Hung Jury who were offering cherry and lime Jell-o shots.  We were informed that everyone must have a minimum of 4 shots.  I happily complied.

 

Shots gone, the mob was off and as we rounded the corner and headed back down Pine Street, Fire Down Under asked me, “Do you know how many shots are too many?” I replied, “No, how many?” She said, “I’m now drunk Kate, and I had 5 shots.  5 is too many!” 

I clearly stopped taking notes (Maybe i was drunk Jeanne? :)~ ) because I have nothing that notes that we headed over into Queen Village to der Europee’nhaus and had a beer check there with lots of ice cold beer.

Back at Kildare’s the mob mingled, continued to watch the Phil’s game and ordered food while barkeeper, Megan, got the beer flowing. Sloppy then called the mob to circle up and I proceeded to get a second round of beer. As I walked into circle, Sloppy had just finished informing the mob about Pelvis Has Left The Building’s unfortunate incident.  We raised a glass in her honor with hopes she gets well soon.

 

Hare(s):        Sloppy Ho

 

First In:           Mayor Quimby

 

Last In:           Big Tackle

 

Virgins:

 

Cums Lately:

Auto-hashers:

Accusations:

Announcements:

 

As for the rest of the night, discuss amongst yourselves…if you remember…it was filled with a few of the harriett’s trying to massage Rear Engineer’s sore nipples, beer and more beer, ripping open Just Kyle’s “easy access” shirt, my tousling E’s new do and causing him to drop his Guinness, the Phillie’s win, Irish car bombs and a late night/early morning trip to Mako’s, Retired Surfer’s Bar on 3^rd and some random drunk woman trying to start a fight with Nuggets. Good times.

 

On, On!

Europee’n on Me :D

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