BFM#195 - Auf Wiedersehen, Nette Klumpen
Posted on November 25, 2007
What’s up with the BFM starting on time these past few weeks? Are we a responsible organization or something? I got to Sugar Mom’s around 8, thinking I’d have a minute to settle in, but noooo, the Mob was already outside gathered around Hold the Sausage who was giving the chalk talk.
I ran inside and threw my bag down in front of Lick Hymen, who appeared to be extra coiffed this evening. He was just gonna hang out with our bags, drinking alone. By the time I came back out, the Mob had taken off.
After volunteering to hare for his 3rd week in a row, we figured Soft Core Analyst must be campaigning for "hare of the year." No one tell him we don’t have an actual award for this - that way no one will have to hare until at least February. SCA took along Jingle Ballzzz for the ride tonight.
Hashers who hashed:
Hold the Sausage, Holy Fuck, Rear Engineer, Atilla the Hung, Nappy Headed Ho, Little Red Riding Wood, Mr, Snuffleupamuff, Dry Hump, Son of a Goatfucker, Just Liz (WIFE of a Son of a Goatfucker), Fiber Opdick, Fruit of the Clue, Jingle Ballzzz, Soft Core Analyst, Cousin IT, Well Hung Jury, Just Dev, Just Mike, Just Bryan, Just John Just Justin, E=My CockSquared, Strap On.
Trail
-The trail went over Market, crossed over Columbus Blvd to the Seaport Museum and back. The Seaport is where we almost had another “anthrax scare” last year.
-Eventually we crossed South Street and kept going… we figured there was definitely going to be a beer check somewhere around here.
-Finally saw a BN near Nice Nuggets Fat Ass’s place. Inside we found the hares (but only Jingle Ballzzz was covered in flour). Someone yelled, “Hey lets look for the vegan shit!” referencing NNFA’s diet. A few people rifled through the fridge for to see what weird stuff they could find. HEY WAIT this isn’t her house anymore! Jingle Ballzzz took over the lease. So we decided to look for kosher shit instead.
-After the beer check, we found E & Strap On waiting outside for us. They always find us.
-We pretty much headed straight back to the bar after that, where we found a shitload of autohashers and some lazy asses who just stayed at the bar while we ran:
Lick Hymen, Horse Whacker, Just Abbey, Sternum and Rectum, Likes the Hard One, Europeen On Me, Up Her Ali, Can You Hear Me Now, Big Tackle, Sloppy Ho, Tickle My Elmo, Just Brian, Just Archna, Just Dan, S&M Man, Nice Nuggets Fat Ass, Fire Down Under, Sloppy Ass Kisser, Sponge Bob No Pants.
PBRs were a flowing … “These are a buck fifty… I love America!!!!” Sloppy exclaimed as she set down an armful of tallboys.
Hashers soon began inquiring about the status of Nice Nuggets, Fat Ass. The Mob had been receiving threatening emails from Sloppy Ho all week telling us to get our no-show asses out for her big send off to Germany. But she wasn’t here and hashers were sad. NNFA finally arrived unfashionably late, and Sloppy called the Mob to order.
Circle:
Hares: Jingle Ballzzz and of course, Soft Core Analyst
Vistors/Transplants: Just John and Just Mike from EWH3 whose protests fell on deaf ears: “Hey! We were here last week!” Yeah, yeah.
Virgins:
Just Megan … Just Jim made her cum. Twice.
Just Liz… “I fucked a Goatfucker and he made me cum!”
Just Dez… no clue who made him cum.
Just Justin. That’s so repetitive. Umm.. Atilla the Hung made him cum.
Sloppy then pulled Justs John and Mike back in the circle to tell a joke or show us a body part. Lick Hymen loudly chanted: “Body part!!!” Body part!!!” Umm… “This does NOT help your gay reputation,” Tickle My Elmo responded trying to save LH another gay trashing. Neither transplant opted to show a thing, by the way, and maybe for this reason.
Autohashers: Some of the ones I mentioned before … but not the whole list.
Violations:
-Elmo accused Sloppy Ho of “not knowing your songs”
-Sloppy Ho accused NNFA of not having a job and not getting here by 9:30… “But had family to say goodbye to!” Some excuse.
-Jingle Ballzzz accused Fruit of the Clue of whining that 30 degrees is “too cold to run”.
-Can You Hear Me Now? accused Sloppy Ho of not showing up to hash after her many threatening emails to the mob.
-Mr. Snuffleupamuff accused Europee’n on Me of getting our tee-shirts out 6 months late.
-Fruit of the Clue had some unintelligible accusation.
Birthday Side Side:
Atilla the Hung, when asked how old he was, responded “Old enough to fuck.” And the women of the hash rejoiced.
Sloppy called NNFA into the circle, and CYHMN proposed a toast, saying the level of karaoke would be going down “10 decimals… decibals?" I guess both could apply, when I think about it. The crowd (the men) began chanting “Tits out for the boys!” followed by the flat-chested song.
Sloppy Ho polled the crowd to find out if anyone has any good dirt on Just Brian so we can name him something other than Buttsicle. Nope. Ok, she’ll check back with you all in 2 weeks.
Announcements:
12/30 – Philly Full Moon Hash
12/6 – Festivus
12/13 – BFM 200 … more fun than a boatload of hashers!
Sloppy guessed that Cause must be on a date cause she’s not here.
After the PBR ran out, someone handed me a Jager shot. So much for a taking-it-easy hash night. The Mob was moving on to Drinkers now. Well, some were. The rest of us made a pit stop for pizza at SoHo. And for some reason after pizza, I madea pit stop for a Tang Martini at The Continental.
When we finally got to Drinkers, there were 2 drunk blondes, Nuggets and Sloppy, hanging at the bar and snapping pictures of themselves with everyone and everything. The bartender, who was obviously trying hard to impress the pair, lit a bottle of alcohol on fire and blew a foot of shooting flames from it with his mouth. Ooooooooo. The S&M Man bought me a drink because he felt bad that he’s thought my name was Anal ProBoner since he started hashing. Afterwards, things get a bit fuzzy, but I’m sure Nuggets got some good photos of everything else that happened.
Auf, auf!
Holy Fuck 
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Hockey Hashing in Manayunk
Posted on November 11, 2007
Why am I writing the trash?
Well, let me tell you this sad and sordid tale. I arrived early (Sin #1) at T Hogan’s, a little dive bar in Manayunk that features, of all things, free Wifi (who the hell is gonna surf the internet while getting sloshed?) as well as $6.00 pitchers. Now if you do the math, even allowing for a dollar tip per serving, this means that under the current hash cash standards this equals roughly a pitcher per hasher. By this arithmetic, it means things could get ugly and they did.
Now I had shown up with the intention of finding out where Stan had gone and who stole the little slut out of my backpack. Wanna have fun? Try explaining to a co-worker that someone had stolen your Dora the Explorer doll, out of your army backpack, at a gay bar, while you were busy watching a tranny-show.
Now, where was I? Oh yeah, I was explaining why I was doing the trash. While I was sitting in there, minding my own business and chatting with Soft Core Analyst, and having a serious discussion on the benefits of an iphone and free Wifi in a bar, two transplants from Every Day Is Wednsday (Just John and Just Mike, it took me a few hours to tell the two apart) showed up and wondered where everybody was. Just then, our fearless leader, Hold The Sausage scampered in, made a beeline towards my perch and, smiling a big toothy grin, unceremoniously thrust a bag of flower into my hands and gleefully told me I would be the acting GM, RA and On Sec for the evening. The following conversation ensued as I enthusiastically took charge of my responsibilities:
“What the fuck? Why me?!”
“There’s no one else you dumb shit.” Neglecting the fact that SCA was right there next to us.
Sausage then went on to explain that no one else in mismanagement would be there since. A. She was gong to play hockey, B Sloppy was teaching homeless children to read, B. Holy Fuck and Europeen on Me were out socializing. C. Scooby was in a Turkish prison for trying to help the Peshmerga (my notes may have gotten confused with the Drudge Report, Damn Iphone sync problems), and everyone and anyone else of any importance was playing hockey down the street.. Hockey on a hash night! WTF! I can understand missing a hash because of other obligations, military commitments, death in the family, hangovers, getting laid, nuclear winter, but a hockey game? Hell it’s not like they are any good. Besides hockey isn’t even a sport, because Canadians are good at it. (George Carlin’s rules).
None of this would have happened while Winkie was here. He was the glue who held us together, who knew?
Now I am so far down on the hash food chain, it was comparable to the director of FEMA being made President. And, while our GM’s rule may have been compared to the Bush administration, I was bound and determined not to have the hash look like post Katrina New Orleans. In fact it turned out worse.
Anyway, as I attempted to break a small straw, we decided that we would just choose the next person who schlepped in. Wunderkind S&M Man was the lucky winner. At least he actually knew the area. SCA was volunteered to help him lay trail. Sausage let them know where the rest of the hash would be playing hockey and she thought it was a great idea to have him lay the trail next to the game, and to crash their bar for a beer check. In true hasher tradition, my suggestion was for him to lay the trail THROUGH the flippin game. Off S&M man eagerly went, returning a few seconds later to ask, “Hey where am I going again?”
In the meantime our Kazakhstan connection; Snap Off and her man toy, Wizard wandered in with their virgin Just Natasha (Moose and Squirrel made her come. I will keep telling that joke until someone laughs). Snap Off had discovered a bubble maker and was blowing bubbles all over the bar. It was cute really, like when you give a three year old a loaded gun. So after a while we realized that we would actually have a small hash.
Here’s who actually ran the trail. Soft Core Analyst, He’s A Lesbian, 3 balls, Just Mike, Just John, Snap Off, Wizard, Just Natasha, Cousin It, Virgin Pimp, S&M Man. That’s it,
I went outside and gave a quick chalk talk, damn near rupturing myself trying to mimic Sloppy’s patented kick. After I got done trying to explain the trail and listening to Snap Off translate it to Just Natasha (she pointed to me, said something in Kazakstanian, and made Just Natasha laugh, it HAD to be an explanation of the symbols, sure it was), away we went.
THE TRAIL
The two transplants revealed themselves to be FRBs and they quickly found the first of the 2,546 false trails that S&M Man and SCA left for us. The trail went down to the train station and down to Main St and into Manayunk.
Let me just comment on the trail. These two sadistic pricks had a false at EVERY check. Nothing like running uphill (and the hills in Manayunk go straight up and down) for about 300 meters, reaching the crest, panting and puking up cheap beer only to see an “F” waiting.
Bastards.
The trail wound its way down Main Street up to the hockey rink where the infamous Moose Knuckles were playing hockey (I guess Camel Toes was already taken?). I saw that S&M man had laid the trail perfectly according to plan and sure enough there was a dob of flower in the center of the court. As I ran up, I saw Strap On, and E=MC2 who screamed at me, “Don’t go in unless you have a stick!”
So I jumped in.
Now, Everyone and I mean EVERYONE cursed at me. Wow, they were PISSED! Two guys came running up to me brandishing hockey sticks and it looked like they were going to kick my ass, so I jumped back across, while a few people made comments about my mother.
Think of the irony of this: Here, on a normal night, there is no problem with taking the trail through 30th St Station, the Concourse, Drexel Univ’s main building, Independence Hall, City Hall, the US Mint, St paddy’s Day Parade, or anywhere else. But, the hockey-hashers went apoplectic when it looked like someone would run through their game. It’s not like they were winning!
Anyway, now that I have pissed off everyone with my comments, back to the trail. I followed it up to the bar, where a very forlorn S&M Man stood outside with a “What do I do now?” look stating that he wasn’t allowed in without ID. Now in all defense to the bouncer, S&M man does look like he’s 12. I mean 3 Balls and I were allowed in with no problem. This was probably because both of us look like we belong in the Creepy-Old-Man-in-the-Club gang. Either way the beer check turned into a False Beer check.
We decided to wait to tell everyone, but we were missing a few. The Kazakhstan girls had discovered a Spice Shop across the street and drug poor wizard I there with them while they had a Spice Check. Veryyyyy NIiiiiiiiiccceee.
S&M Man then told me he had run out of flower. As I was about to suggest he use a rock to mark the trail, he quickly scribbled ON IN on the sidewalk (pretty young girl walking by- “What the hell is that for?”), and away we went back to the bar.
CIRCLE
Once we got in, we bought our pitchers and opened the circle. Again, I suffered a groin pull trying to kick and the following was noted:
HARES: S&M Man, Soft Core Analyst
FIRST IN/LAST IN; Just John, Cousin It
VIRGIN: Just Natasha (Wizard and Snap Off made her come)
COMES LATELYS: 3 Balls and Cousin It
AUTO HASHERS: No one, they all had driven away to the hockey game. Bastards
VIOLATIONS:
WIZARD: having cheese fries delivered to him in the circle and not sharing
SNAP OFF: for not knowing why this was a violation, and JUST NATASHA for the “when one person from Kazakhstan drinks” rule.
That was it, as far as I could see. So the circle was closed for the first time. I breathed a sigh of relief for almost making it through my first stint as an acting RA.
Then the Hockey Hashers arrived.
CIRCLE 2.
HOCKEY HASHERS: E=MC2, The Rash, Up Her Ali, The Horse Whacker, Jingle Balls, 2 Clump, Rear Engineer, Holt the Sausage, Fire Down Under, and Tickle My Elmo.
E attempted to claim that since they were technically on trail, they didn’t have to drink. Now I’m sorry but being on trail and having the trail go through your event is not the same. That’s like a Mexican saying he’s an American because some drunken gringos staggered into his Tijuana Donkey Show. Drink up.
The circle was re reopened again for announcements, about Festivus, and the AGM for the Philly hash, as well as some other thing, but here’s where my notes get fuzzy. More beers were ordered and the hash descended into typical post circle activity which included drinking, dart playing, cock blocking, pool playing, gossiping, goat slaying, staggering and general debauchery.
OVERHEARD AT THE HASH
“I had a dream I owned a bar with monkeys”
“Don’t tell me that, I am scared to death of monkeys”
-E=MC2 conversing with HTS
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“It smells like my right hand in there.”
-2 unk hashers.
“Oddly enough, men have a flossila that allows them to talk out their ass.”
-Rash
“It was bad that I was with my gynecologist and he asked me “What the fuck is THAT?””
-Rash (sharing WAY too much)
“To me sweat pants with elastic ankles are FAAAAABULOUS!”
-Hold the Sausage
“I’ll On On this stick up your fucking ass!”
-Unk hockey player to He’s A Lesbian
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BFM #193 - The Sheep’s a Drag!
Posted on November 5, 2007
Walking to the Black Sheep Pub for the BFM #1somethingorother, I remember I need to pick up the flour. $2.99 is a complete rip at the "Morning Deli", but there’s no time to comparison shop at this point. Tonight could be a little tricky, since I will attempt to play GM, RA, On-Sec, Hash Cash and Hash Flash until relief arrives.
At the Sheep, there’s some networking happy hour taking up the main floor, and the hash is congregating in the dungeon. I grab a bunch of straws from the bar and, using Sausage’s GM authority, delegate Fruit of the Clue the very important task of breaking the short one. The assignment proves to be difficult as he’s still holding his gnarled, unbroken straw after several failed attempts.
The S&M man, who had been watching this whole scene took another straw from the pile and handed it back to me a second later with a clean break. I didn’t ask him how, but obviously an S&M man would keep a variety of slicing instruments at his disposal. Hoping I dont have to add hare to my list of tasks, I was excited when Little Red Riding Wood and Soft Core Analyst volunteered.
As the Mob headed upstairs for chalk talk, the once lively happy hour room was now dead silent. Someone from the networking group was giving a speech as the whole room now turned toward the ruckus coming up from the basement. That’s us by the way… the "ruckus." I turned around to “Shhhhhh” the hashers coming up the stairs behind me, who didnt know this. In turn, they began“Shhhhhh” -ing louder back at me. I couldn’t tell if this amused or annoyed the speaker, who asked, “Are you guys trying to be quiet?”
I "gracefully" wove through the sea of bodies to get outside and out of their way. Later, hash witnesses would inform me that I had plowed so hard into some woman’s boob that it swung back and forth in her blouse from the sheer force. God, I wish I could have seen that. On the sidewalk, we saw a “BN” along with a laundry list of marks the hares had left. As RA, I attempted the standard Sloppy Ho welcome and air-out, then introduced our virgin Just Jason to the secret chalk language in front of us.
Who Hashed:
Holy Fuck, He’s A Lesbian, Fiber Opdick, Just Brian, The S&M Man, Fruit of the Clue, Just Brian, Where’s My Vagina, Softcore Analyst, Little Red Riding Wood, Scammin’ Ol Ladies, Mr. Snuffleupamuff, Just Jason, Cause for Blindness.
<<<<Trail >>>>>
-We found every false trail the hares had laid. And there were plenty of ‘em.
-We lost Cause somewhere along trail.
-We had a fun beer check at the always-cheap, always-smoky Locust bar.
-At the Locust, there was a lesbian couple in a booth playing an intense game of Boggle. My favorite 5 letter word is TEAMS. If the letters fall the right way, you can get TEA, ATE, EAT, TEAM, TEAMS, STEAM, MAST, MATE, MEAT, MEATS, TAME, TAMES. Boggle master.
-Fiber Opdick made me pretend we were conversing so he could stare at some girl’s ass in the coffee shop window behind me.
- Just Brian kept up the whole time, though confused.
We got back to the Sheep, where we found a smattering of auto-hashers downstairs, including RA Sloppy Ho relieving me of duty.
(((((((Circle))))))))))
First In: Cause For Blindness
Last In: Holy Fuck
Virgin: Just Jason … Tastes Like Chicken made him cum, but she didn’t cum herself.
Hares: LRRW & Soft Core Analyst
Cums Lately? Nope. SOCIAL!!
Autohashers: Sloppy Ho, Scooby Snatch, Rear Engineer, Horsewhacker, Fire Down Under, Heave Ho, Tickle My Elmo, Stan, Skin Fiddle, Popeye’s Bitch
Accusations:
Sloppy Ho… for missing the hash to educate America’s “youts” and being and Over Achieving Ass Clown on Sunday
Fruit of the Clue … for flapping his arms like a birdie when he scouts out trail
Scammin Ol Ladies … for making some incestuous joke about about brothers.
Heave Ho … for wearing scrubs. Halloween was yesterday!
Announcements:
- EWH3 Ski Trip Feb 8-10 … Sign up now.
- December 6 is the Festivus Pub Crawl, bitches.
- December 13 is the BFM 200, which will be more fun than a boatload of hashers on the Schuykill.
- The Lehigh Valley 69th is coming up. As Cause explained, it’s the 69th run on the 69th year. But not continuously. Ok.
-And by the way… Cause is still single.
At some point after the circle closed, cum-lately hasher "Stan" was tossed over the crowd to me by her Uncle Elmo. She looks pretty good after doing God-knows what for the past few months. But she’s wearing denim clamdiggers. So out of season. Lesbian quickly claimed her for his trip to Paris next week because those overseas trips can get lonely.
Since the Sheep was a bit pricey, the hash stash ran out early, leaving us with nothing to do. Things were getting pretty lame and people were complaining about being tired or sick, having to work early tomorrow, or just being bored with the Black Sheep. Waaaaah!!! Lack of alcohol makes people so whiney. My friend Just Brian, had a brilliant idea that proved to be the turning point of the evening: “Let’s go to drag night at Bob and Barbara’s!”
It took convincing of some, but in the end we amassed a respectable crowd (so to speak) of 14 and headed to South Street for what proceeded to be the best on-after ever. The bargain price of 6 bucks at the door gets you one “Special” (a can of PBR + a shot of Beam) and all the drag you can view.
The crowd was a mix of gays, bi’s, straights, and all ethnicities here for the same cause: To ogle trannies lip-synching to tunes in see-thru evening wear. I’ve posted a few pictures, but unfortunately my camera died before they brought Sloppy Ho on stage to dirty dance with a random female (also pulled from the crowd). They were later seen exchanging digits. Sloppy proudly earned an additional “Special” for her performance.
We also got to see Stan shoving dollar bills between “Miss Liza Liza’s” big fake cans. Stan subsequently disappeared from Lesbian’s backpack … coincidence? Popeye was picked (after we pointed him out) to go dance with a drag queen on stage. I swear I never saw anyone fight so hard to get away. I thought he and the tranny were going to blows. Luckily, Tickle My Elmo volunteered to go up instead.
After downing two more specials, Sloppy and I were starting to sing louder than the music the trannies were lip-synching to (Fergie’s Big Girls Dont Cry was the last thing I remember). It was time to go. Lesbian ushered us out of B&B’s to Little Petes diner, and baby-sat while we ate our grilled cheeses and Texas Tommys. A fuzzy end to a memorable evening!
On on!!
Holy Fuck
Snipets of a curious conversation between two hashers:
“I got finger banged twice in one year” – Fiber Opdick
“Dude, you could drive a MAC truck in my ass and I wouldn’t feel anything” - He’s A Lesbian
“I went to the same doctor every year and he had small fingers. I was thankful. My buddy had a doctor with farm hands.” – Fiber Opdick
“Does your guy put both hands on your shoulders?” – He’s a Lesbian
Also overheard at the Hash:
“Stop chasing pussy!” Lesbian to Holy Fuck
“Who likes head?” – Hasher … “I do!!”– The S&M Man
“Look at these guys… They’re hashers” – Knowledgeable person on the street
“You’re probably wondering what I use to hide it all… Lots of duct tape. – Drag queen at B&B’s
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BFM Hash #192 – There’s just something about Westy’s
Posted on November 2, 2007
This is going to be the shortest trash ever, why, because I feel like it. No other good reason. I mean, I could put some random verbiage in here to take up space like I usually do. Hells, why not! How about a Halloween word search? You know, you can print out this page, grab a pen and/or pencil, and search old school style.
Note: You can blame my niece, Catherine, for this idea. I was helping her with her spelling homework and her teacher assigned her a word search.
Halloween Hashing Word Search
Y J H H Z H Z K F T S Z C R A
S D U W S D A E O U U N A K K
Y G N F C R O H O N M G V C J
W C O A A T S N A A N C E E K
Z Y A O C M H A O I V M M H S
C U K R F Z J E H N C N A C U
X E O A C W P S R C Q D N T H
K Z W E E O A C X A I H P F A
M M K N I H N D Z R S L F O U
B E E R X T K Y D I N H M C H
C K P E Y X E Z G S Y T S E W
S Y R E N N A L F A T C V N Z
I T Y B C V S W H T X X P P F
H E A V E H O R L D Z N R H W
T M P C A Z K X Y J Z G A G I
BEER
BEERNEAR
CANDY
CAVEMAN
CHECK
GYNOCRACY
HASHING
HEAVEHO
KARAOKE
ONON
SHOT
TAFLANNERYS
THERASH
WESTYS
The costumes:
I actually was impressed by this part. For a bunch of FF, the costumes were clever, here is a sampling:
Soft Core Anal-ist – Elvis, not be confused with Pelvis Who Left the City
Snap On – A Princess
Popeye’s Bitch – Avril Lavigne, let’s face it, he looks damn good as a woman
Skin Fiddle – Organized Philly Sports Fan or a dude without a costume
Sloppy Ass Kisser – Someone wrote down Cat Woman
Cunting Season – A BFM hasher or a chic without a costume
Rear Engineer – Escaped convict. Trying to tell us something?
Two Clump – Kensington House and it looks kinda like his house
He’s a Lesbian – Captain Underpants like the hash name he almost had?
Just Christina – Sexy Cop
Horse Whacker – Chic from There’s Something About Mary, you know with the “gelled” up hair (and the inspiration for the name of the trash this week)
Jingle Balzzz – A Wolf? Where are the revealing pants
Fire Down Under – Wonder Woman
Death Wish and Yeast of Burden – Static Cling
Beagle – Marshmallow Man
Little Red Riding Wood – A boxer
Rash – Catholic School Girl – the dudes were drooling
Up Her Ali – Little Debbie
Hold the Sausage – Homewrecker
Virgin Pimp – I think Howard Stern or an actual PIMP who gets some
E=MC2 – Little F-ing Winkie, I was disappointed that this outfit didn’t include an inflatable mattress
Strap On – A witch with orange hair
Swollen Cockpit – Runner? That’s a new one!
S&M Man – Glow in the Dark Man?
Mr Snuffupamuff – Forrest Gump, the running version. You know, I just felt like runnin’
Wizard of Odds (yes, that is his real hash name, Sub Human is now banned from naming) – Russian Peace Activist, but I thought you were from Kazakhstan?
All Turd Boy – A caveman and not the one from the Geico commercials
Heave Ho – German barmaid ala St. Pauli Girl (more drooling)
Likes the Hard One – A witch without the orange hair
Well Hung Jury – Sloppy Ho
The trail:
I was setting the trail, so I have a good idea where it went. We wanted to keep it short and sweet. Running in costumes can have unintended consequences, like chafing and boobage falling out. Who would want boobage to pop out?
The trail went in to the art museum area. Right after Mt Vernon St., we had a shot check. It was a yummy pumpkin shot check! Mmm, pumpkin for the season…
From there, the trail went back into the city, past Logan Circle and onto a beer check. The beer check was at a regular hash bar, TA Flannerys. The pack made a long stop here. The bartender practically forced us to drink more beer. I mean he kept pouring and pouring pitchers. Woe is us, having to drink more beer…
Eventually, the pack took off and headed back on in. Not before a little time on Chestnut St. to show of their costumes.
The circle:
Sloppy Ho couldn’t make it, so E=MC2 fulfilled his duties as the emergency backup RA. I think he actually forgot he was the emergency backup RA. When I told him, he looked a bit concerned.
We soon learned that it was going to be the shortest circle ever. The Karaoke dude was ready to start the action immediately upon our return to the bar. I bribed him with a beer to delay the music five minutes. I think he kept time, since he started exactly five minutes later.
Hares – Hold the Sausage and Up Her Ali
Virgin – Just Kristen – Swollen Cockpit made her cum
Visitor – Dogman? – Alabama – No costume, sigh…
Autohashers – Lick Hymen, Swollen Cockpit, Just Christina, Just Kristen
And Just Christina had to drink for wearing her police hat in circle
Accusations:
Some accused Skin Fiddle of not having a costume. It was deemed a false accusation.
Bitchard was accused of being a racist.
Popeye’s Bitch was accused of whining. (I think most of us could drink for that)
Deathwish and Yeast of Burden were accused of copulation on trail. And when one Hockessin drinks, all Hockessin drinks.
Announcements:
Ski Trip – Register Now - $245 until Nov or Sloppy Ho will keep e-mailing until you do. Your choice bitches…
200th Hash – Coming up in December and it will be better than the boat ride. We swear!
On the Date of the 200th – Festivus, start preparing your grievances…
Karaoke:
This is what I wrote down for Karaoke:
Snap Off and S&M Man – Tiny Dancer
Snap Off and S&M Man again – Love by the Dashboard Light. (this is one long karaoke song)
The Rash – Heroes
Lick Hymen – He sang something. I wrote down punk rocker, Avril Lavigne, and Edward Scissorhands - I think I was trying to figure out his costume and I am not sure what he sang.
Later on…
He’s a Lesbian – I’m an Asshole (and he knew all of the words)
Cause, Jingle Balzzz, Horse Whacker, All Turd Boy – Son of a Preacher Man
Scooby, Snap Off, and Cause – Build Me Up Buttercup
And many more songs… and beer…and songs
The real action for me was on the way home. Jingle and I tend to walk off our beer after the hash. On the way back to my apartment, I decided to get some dinner at Gay Pizza to soak up the copious amounts of Miller Lite I drank. When I arrived the police blocked off the road and were walking near a crime scene. My neighborhood Gay Pizza celebrated another Philadelphia murder. (now aptly nicknamed Death Pizza) Of the over 300 murders in the city, this is the first in my reasonably safe center city neighborhood. It just becomes real when it is two blocks away. Not to end the trash on a sad note, but there is a feeling of powerlessness to stop this trend already in motion. If people don’t care about human life and will kill each other just for sake of an argument, is there any hope?
On a happier note, thank goodness for the hash! It provides some respite from the insanity of life; maybe the hash is a little insanity to conquer the insanity?
All I know is beer and hope spring eternal. The only difference is you have to pay for beer, but it’s worth it.
On, on, YFF
Up Her Ali
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