BFM #213: Pool Balls Deep
Posted on March 24, 2008
One Thursday night, long ago, a dozen or so friends got together for dinner in a major city. By the time a day had passed, two of them were dead and the rest, fugitives. One had called the cops on his buddy, and felt so bad about being a snitch, that he committed suicide. The guy he dimed out had apparently tried to start a riot earlier that week and ended up getting nailed, to a tree no less. All the others made themselves scarce and later decided to start a religion. If that doesn’t sound like this week’s hash, I don’t know what does. Well, maybe without the crucifixion and suicide and all that drama, but you see the parallels, right? Hell we even sing a song about it, “Free beer for all the hashers….” Come-on, sing along.
Having a hash in a billiards hall reminded me of an old joke we used to tell each other overseas: "What do foreigners and cue balls have in common? The harder you hit them the more English you get out of them." But I digress.
I found Buffalo Billiards easy enough and to confirm I was in the right place I immediately encountered Sloppy Ass Kisser and her friend, Sharlene, both of whom were grinning and giggling like retarded second graders. I have never never never seen her not smile, I think she must have had surgery or she’s on Prozac or something, she never even frowns. We need someone to kill a puppy in front of her or something to make her cry, just to see if she can actually do it.
When I walked inside the bar I thought for a second that I forgot to change my clock and had shown up late, since I saw Skin Fiddle there BEFORE any other hashers showed up. I mean he never is on time, let alone early. I was wondering if perhaps I had stumbled into an alternate dimension. But then Fruit of the Clue sauntered in wearing his florescent yellow jacket and I knew all was right with the world.
PERSONAE DRAMATICUS:
Skin Fiddle, Sloppy Ass Kisser, Stunt Dick Double, Fruit Of The Clue, He’s A Lesbian, Anal Pro Boner, Jingle Balls, Up Her Ali, Soft Core Analyst, Rear Engineer, Piss Cycle, Cousin It, E=MC2, Strap-On, Just Rich, Just Emily (transplant from Boston), The Ho sisters (Sloppy and Oh I), Virgin Pimp, Popeye’s Bitch, Mr Snuffleupamuff, Little Red Riding Wood, Tight Lips, Pink and Puffy Rides The Huffy, Cherry Poppins, whose virgin, Just Jenny, forgot her ID and ran off, and Just Christian.
Straws were drawn and Fruit Of The Clue draw the short stick. The overachiever Sloppy Ass Kisser started jumping up and down, screaming, “CANIGOTOOCANIGOTOOPLEASEPlEASE?” and joined him and away they went with red flower. A few minutes later Rear Engineer called us outside for chalk talk and off we went.
THE TRAIL
We quickly discovered that having Fruit teaching SAK was like the Blind leading the blind, or should I say the Color Blind leading the gullible. Did anyone know that Fruit was colorblind? No wonder he wears a florescent yellow jacket and tie died shirts, holy shit! And we gave him red chalk, which is tough to see anyway, so imagine if you will just how hopelessly screwed up the trail got.
Off we ran East on Chestnut, then South on Front Street, East on Walnut over I-95 to a False without the F (We were to find it later), back West on Walnut, then South on 2nd, where Just Rich tried to call the now ID-totin’ Just Jenny on his cell phone to vector her in. Do you know how fun that is trying to find a group of people who are running away from you on a hash trail. It is LOADS of fun, trust me, especially when it goes into strange neighborhoods and you have no idea where you are, and your companion stares death at you and, where was I?
Oh, yeah the trail. We hung out for a while at the Ritz theatre, where the title “There Will Be Blood” gazed down on us from the marquee, as we ran North on 2nd then South on 2nd, past where a Philly Fireman was killed, then West on Spruce, South into an alley between 3rd and 4th, where Up Her Ali and I were attacked by flying cardboard as we approached South St.
Here’s where things got interesting. We couldn’t find the damn trail, so we brow beat Up Her Ali to tell us where the Beer Near was. “7th and South,” she said, and off we ran down South, past gawking tourists and gangsta wannabees, where we found….nothing. No bar, no chalk, no flower, nada. “Maybe it was 2nd and South” Ali admitted.
We had a meeting of the minds, as we tried to figure out what to do, try to follow trail have an impromptu beer check somewhere, or wander aimlessly South on 8th street, which was what we did.
At 7th and Bainbridge, we found the missing “F” from the earlier False; no trail at all, just an F. As we stood there wondering how stupid either the hares or we were, Little Red Riding Wood came sauntering up, lips and tongue red, eating Rita’s Water Ice. Apparently Rita’s was offering free water ice to celebrate the first day of spring and Jingle Balls, Strappy, Rear, and some others partook.
While we were trying to figure this out, E=MC2 streaked by us, South on 6th, yelling “On-On!” and we were back on trail. South we ran down 6th, turning Southwest on Passyunk. At Passyunk & Christian, some nimrod driving HUA (Head Up Ass), didn’t realize what the 8 sided red sign or white lines on the highway meant, and damn near made me a hood ornament. Big badass that I am, I smiled, and waved and said, “HI!”
The Beer Near was in the appropriately named Dive Bar, where we found our grinning co-hares, who sheepishly admitted that they had run out of flour and did not have enough money to buy Pabst for everyone. WTF!
We ran, dejectedly, back to Buffalo Billiards.
TOTAL DISTANCE: 4.44 miles.
Once back at the bar, I made the mistake of complimenting Sloppy Ass Kisser on her fragrance, whereupon she rammed her armpit right in my face and cheerfully screamed, “Do you like it?”
THE CIRCLE:
HARES: the color-blind Fruit Of The Clue, and Sloppy Ass Kisser
VIRGINS: Just Jenny (Cherry Poppins made her come), and Just Christian (Just Emily made her come)
VISITOR/TRANSPLNT: Just Emily from Boston H3, who entertained us with this lovely joke:
"What’s black and blue and hates sex? The 9 year old in my basement." Did I mention we are all going to hell?
FIRST IN/LAST IN: Up Her Ali / Just Rich
COMES LATELYS: Cousin It, Sloppy Ass Kisser, and Fruit Of The Clue (Under the WHEN ONE HARE DRINKS rule)
AUTO HASHERS: Skin Fiddle, Virgin Pimp, Popeye’s Bitch, Anal Pro Boner, Piss Cycle, Pink And Puffy Rides The Huffy, Sloppy Ho, and Oh I Ho.
VIOLATIONS
Pisscycle- Tech in circle.
ANNOUNCEMENTS:
DC is having either a Prom Hash or a 469th run, I don’t know which, check their web sites under DC HASHING.
Cousin It is haring an upcoming Philly Hash
If I seem a little fuzzy on the announcements it is because, as I was taking notes, Sloppy Ho ran into the circle yelling, “Which one of you fucking perverts has my clothes!” Apparently during the Green dress run, Sloppy discovered that the following items were missing:
1 beige Victoria Secret Body bra, size 36C (For all of you who were curious, and I know you were)
1 T-shirt
1 Red T-shirt marked “Vote Republican”
silk, flowered granny panties (Sloppy apparently went commando during the green dress run)
Blue Jeans (the complainant refused to provide size details)
Big Bendover’s Green Dress. (Wait a second, HIS dress and HER clothes are missing? I think we can mark this case as SOLVED)
The circle closed and at that point things began to get strange. One of the Ho sisters was sitting on the pool table and a Buffalo Billiards staff member materialized out of nowhere to admonish her ass off the table. Another appeared yet again when I rested my beer mug on the side to test the response time. Ali began shooing everyone out, since they had another party coming upstairs and we were only allotted 30 minutes. From there, people talked about each other, hashers txted lovers, strangers, brothers or family members (or all of the above), people got drunk, or sober, and others simply drove home.
OVERHEARD AT THE HASH
“Girls can get away with so much if they show a little boob.” – Skin Fiddle
“The one thing I know about anal beads is that you don’t pull them out like you’re starting a lawn mower” – Pisscycle, as reported by Stunt Dick Double.
HASHSPACE.com: If anyone is interested in joining this interesting new time waster, email either myself, E, Rash, Strappy, UHA, Europeen on Me, Mr Snuff, Cause, Cunting Season, fisted sister, or Sloppy, You have to be invited to get on, but is worth it.
On-On
He’s A Lesbian
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BFM #211: Clusterf&%k on Passyunk
Posted on March 10, 2008
Passyunk Ave: (From a Google search):
Origin of name: Spelled in old deeds and records in a variety of ways: Perslajingh, Passayunk, Passyonck, Passajon, Passajungh, Passaming and Paisajungh.
Passyunk had its roots as an Indian village; Queen Christina later bequeathed the area as a 1,000-acre parcel to Lt. Swen Shute in return for important services rendered to the King of Sweden. The northeastern boundary fell around the parallel of 12th Street. It became a township at a very early period of Western settlement, with Federal Road (later called Federal Street) used as a major thoroughfare.
The street itself is one of those messed up streets that runs, not North, South, East, or West, but NE through South Philly. When I saw the address to this week’s hash, I figured easy day, all I really have to do is find a parking spot, and I’m home free. I mean, Hell, I used to work there, right? Imagine how relieved I was to park right near 12th and Passyunk, and KNOW I had found a decent one, only a half a block away from the address of….A FURNITURE STORE? WTF???
So I asked a passerby where Rays Happy Birthday Bar was, got the directions, and cursed my way up to Genos to find the bar and hash already forming. When I first heard the name, Happy Birthday Bar, for some strange reason, I was expecting to find a drunker, darker version of Chuckie Cheese. The Happy Birthday bar is a triangle shaped property that is actually pretty nice, and meets Hasher requirements. (What are they again? Oh yeah, a back room and cheap beer). And the bartender in this South Philly bar has a bonified Southern Accent!
Inside, I found Hold The Sausage bragging about the BFM being mentioned in an article in Philly Style magazine. Apparently, since being voted out of office, Sausage, like Jimmy Carter, wrote her memoirs and is now making huge sums of money on speaking engagements to anyone who will listen. Or at the least any drunk who will buy her a beer as he tries to hit on her.
The others who showed up:
The Rash, Heave Ho, Just Matt, Jingle Ballz, Rear Engineer, Anal Pro Boner, Up Her Ali, Just Archna, 3 Balls, Well Hung Jury, Nappy Headed Ho, Stunt Dick Double, Mr Snuffleuphermuff, Virgin Pimp, Soft Core Analyst, Short and Puffy Rides the Huffy, Raidr (Succesfully transplanted), Pisscycle, Little Red Riding Wood, He’s A Lesbian, Fire Down Under, 2 Clump Chump, Just Mike, Cherry Poppins, and our Three Way Virgins, Just Matt, who made his buddies, Just Annie and Just Marcus come. Oh and lets not forget Just Liz, she’s not a virgin, but when I asked her hash name she said, “I haven’t done anything stupid yet.”
Give it time, honey. Give it time.
THE TRAIL
What can be said about an Anal Pro Boner laid trail that hasn’t been said before? Our overachiever with the reflective strip on her ass (I’m paid to notice these things) and Nappy Headed Ho volunteered to hare and took off. Immediately Rear Engineer shouted out, “The Time is….” and FIVE MINUTES later started screaming for a chalk talk. He actually looked at his watch! You know, Mussolini made the trains run on time too. Think about it.
The trail went West down Federal and North on 11th to a FALSE (bastards), then continued West on Federal where the pack ran in all directions looking for a trail but true to Anal’s form, found none.
The Chinese store on the corner beckoned Rash who said she needed a cigarette (They sell loosies there), I made the mistake of following WHJ and CP South on 13th where they stopped at a corner, WHJ pointed to a restaurant, and the following conversation ensued:
“OH MY GOD, this restaurant is SOOOOOOO good.”
“Is it?”
“Oh yeah, I took my parents there. It’s SOOOOOOOO BYO.”
Like gag me with a spoon!
The Valley Girl talk made me want to do something to reinvigorate my manhood, so, chickmagnet that I am, I picked my nose and burped. Then off we ran BACK up 13th, where we rejoined a confused pack, that was standing around and cursing, “This ALWAYS happens in this neighborhood.” Finally there was a shout of “Oh there it is!” (The new version of “On On”), where someone finally found the trail North on 13th, then East on Washington, then North on 12th, cutting through a U-Hall parking lot, back onto Washington then North on 11th, East on Kimball, North on 10th and East again on Carpenter, into an alley and East on Montrose, then North again on Darien.
I remembered this block because once, in a prior life when I was a cop SGT here, my cops were constantly called to this block to lift an obese 75 year old woman to her portable toilet, leave the building while she did her business, and lift her back in to her bed, because her 95 year old caregiver mother couldn’t do it. It took over two months of constant 911 calls to that address as well as multiple calls to Phila Corp of Aging before the cops stopped being her poop caddies. (Aren’t you glad you made me on-sec?)
Trying to shake that image out of my head, we ran up Darien where we found a sheepish APB standing next to a Beer Near at 12 Steps Down. Apparently, the hot female bartender there refused to let anyone drink without ID. “Are you kidding?” she said when I went down there to try to use my people skills to persuade her. “Do YOU trust them enough to go to jail? I mean that little red head out there looks 15!” I thought long and hard about how much I trusted them….
Rear Engineer saved me from making an ethical decision by grabbing the flower and running off. We all immediately screamed “ON HARE!” and we chased him South on 9th to Passyunk where we ran to the Triangle Bar. Inside an ageless woman’s slurred, “Where you guys been?” told us we found the right place. At that point, half the pack gave up and ran back to the Happy Birthday Bar, and the what was left waited for the bartender to get the pitchers our of the attic and clean them so we could swill at the Beer Check. I guess they only used them when we were there, like hey, lets break out the good china, folks. After drinking a round we ran back to HBB, where our auto hashers awaited.
Total distance: 2.56 miles.
CIRCLE:
HARES: Anal Pro Boner and Nappy Headed Ho.
FIRST IN/LAST IN: Pink and Puffy Rides the Huffy, Rear Engineer,
VIRGINS: Just Matt, Just Annie, and Just Marcus (Just Matt made himself and the other two come. Such talent.)
AUTOHASHERS: Mr Snuffleuphermuff, Fisted Sister, Skin Fiddle, Lick Hyman, Pink and Puffy Rides the Huffy (How can an auto hasher be first in? Don’t ask me, I’m just the scribe; I report, you decide)
COMES LATELYS: Fisted Sister, Nappy Headed Ho, Heave Ho, 2 Clump Chump, He’s A Lesbian (as well as Soft Core Analyst and Jingle Ballz, under the “When one Man-sec drinks…” rule.)
ACCUSATIONS:
Whining: Mr Snuffleuphermuff and Just Rich
Hat in the circle: Mr Snuffleuphermuff
Stunt Dick Double for saying that Anal Pro Boner had a fat ass (But how did he spell it? It MIGHT have been PHAT!)
Lick Hyman for (according to my fuzzy notes) “Cable Company jerking him like raw meat”???
ABORTED NAMING
Just Archana was brought smiling and prostesting into the circle to be named, but Up Her Ali, in true Nancy Pelosi fashion decided the suggestions weren’t up to par and assigned us a homework assignment for next week. Here they were anyway:
Barefoot Cuntessa
2 Beer Queer (She’s a light weight!)
Performs on Stage
Fights with Lesbians (she supposedly got into a fight with two butchies)
Hamburgler (After Mr Snuff waterboarded her into admitting she once ate meat)
Furburgler
Two Cow Chow
Fights With Dykes (her aforementioned Alycia Lane impression)
Dickboxer
Puppet Fucker (a strange former romantic entanglement)
ANNOUNCEMENTS:
Rash is selling jewelry (Hash necklaces) and T-shirts, which are actually pretty cool. She basically poured bleach into a design of Ben Franklin and it came out halfway decent. I had my runway moment and showed the crowd mine. Now if only I can master that anorexia thing….
Philly Green Dress Run Weekend: March 13,14,15,&16
March 13th : BFMH3: Bonners. You know where it is.
Part II - Friday, March 14th – Philly Full Moon - Green Street
Pub Crawl
7:30pm (pack off at 8pm) - $5.00 – The Green Room -
20th and Green St.
Part III - Saturday, March 15th – The 7th St. Patrick’s Green
Dress Run - 2pm (3pm hash standard time) - $30
Bob and Barbara’s, 1509 South Street
Green Dress Run, Beer, Food, Prizes, Fun!!
The Run is RAIN OR SHINE!
Part IV - Sunday, March 16th – Sunday Bloody Sunday Hangover
Hash - 11am - Jingle Balzzz Abode - 805 S. 4th St - $5
Oh and Popeye’s Bitch and Lick Hyman snuck in after the circle, We noticed, guys.
SECRET MISMANAGEMENT MEETING
UHA held court since the entire mismanagement was there, and broke out a copy of Roberts Rules of Order. Rash reported that she had opened up an account on the Cayman Islands to handle the sudden influx of money from the Hash Cash skim. UHA briefed us on upcoming special events like the green dress, a potential toga run, as well as a plan to have a run on April 17th commemorating the death of Benjamin Franklin. I noted that we are all going to hell.
OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“I just want to put my face up in the window and stare at all the people eating.”-Cherry Poppins
“I just do fish.” - Hold the Sausage
“I need to take my clothes off” -Just Archna (reported to me by a giddy Virgin Pimp)
“ I’m parked right up your ass.” - Fisted Sister
“My life is a hollow lie” - Rash
“You don’t realize how powerful we are. We can make people disappear. Remember Just Dave?” - 2 Clump Chump (during the secret meeting)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Wanna really have fun? Go to Genos and say, “Yo quiero un wiz con!” They will stare at you…
On On
He’s A Lesbian
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BFM #210– Guess who’s back, back again?
Posted on March 6, 2008
Oh you guessed it, Little F*cking Winki made the trek home for a cameo appearance this week. So what did LFW bring from the land above? No hair on his head, and no Canadian beer in his hand. Despite his apparent shortcumings, Winki draws a large crowed, or maybe it was because of Karaoke and the famous Westy’s Fries? But more on that later…
Who Came:
Rear Engineer, Big Tackle, Two Clump Chump, Son of Goat F*cker, Up Her Ali, Skin Fiddle, Fire Down Under, LFW, The Rash, Stunt Dick Double, Sloppy Ho, Tastes Like Chicken, Softcore Analyst, Tight Lips, Can You Hear Me Now?, First Down, Jingle Balls, Mother May I, Cherry Poppins, Flounder, Cause For Blindness, Little Red Riding Wood, Mr. Snuffleuphermuff, E = MC2, Virgin Pimp, Holy F*ck, Just Archana, Just Liz, Just Mike, Just Craig, Just Dan
The Trail:
Jingle Balls showed up with the chalk, and was immediately put to work (remind me never to bring the chalk). Just Archana was excited at the prospect of laying trail (remember she’s new) so Jingle graciously took her under his wing, or would it be balls? After a brief chalk talk where we were introduced to Flounder from Hershey Hash, the pack set out in search of trail. We headed west on Callowhill to 17th were trail headed south. After a few marks we found a false at Franklin Town Apartments. The Pack returned to the previous check and much to my amazement , started checking, not a hanger to be found. I guess the fact that with the wind chill it felt like twenty degrees out, had some part in it. After more searching we discovered that the false was apparently a false (I didn’t know you could do that). We cut behind the Library, as Rear Engineer commented on how nice it will look once the renovations are complete. We headed up the parkway and towards Eakins Oval where the marks appeared on trees. I noted that the marks looked like cave drawings, I assumed it was to honor the Frida Kahlo exhibit. Finally we spotted the pack, or at least the ass end of the pack, you guessed it Cause for Blindness, I never knew what she looked like from behind, and to show I have some level of tact, I will end that thought right there. After some more circle jerks around the museum area, we stumbled on the pack at 24th and Fairmount, while they stood around with a strange look of confusion, this did not last long as we were off again and headed towards Green Street. Now this can mean only one of two things, Beer check or Beer Check. And you guessed it, Beer Check at the Green Room. As we entered the bar one patron who was playing pool was overheard saying “kinda gross” towards the pack. I was tempted to reply so is too much eyeliner and that muffin top, but I restrained myself. Now there were two things I found interesting about the Green Room; One was that all of the pint glasses had advertisements for cheap Greyhound tickets (I guess when people get drunk they are more inclined to plan impromptu bus trips) and Secondly that the bar is kid friendly. Or they were having a special, pay your age for pitchers, because there were several seven year-olds running around the bar. Anyway after the beer was gone, so was the pack. Five blocks down Spring Garden Street and back to the bar.
Circle:
Ok it’s Westys so that only means one thing, out-door circle. Now before we begin it is important to note that Tight Lips left before circle commenced (someone remember to accuse her of that next time).
Hares: Jingle Balls and Just Archana
First in/ Last in: E / Cause (the eternal pair)
Visitors: Flounder from Harrisburg-Hershey
Cums Lately: LFW, Big Tackle
Auto Hashers: Sloppy Ho, Just Dan, Skin Fiddle, Big Tackle
Accusations:
CYHMN for calling E and asking him to remove the website comment he posted about the “Gayocracy”
Stunt Dick Double something about his pants not protecting his weak penis from the cold
(circle pause)
As the accusations were being announced a car pulled into the lot and headed towards us, was this it, where we busted by the fuzz. Not quite Fruit of the Clue literally auto-hashed right into the circle, so of course he drank for that.
Two Clump Chump something about my note book not being up to standards (hey I’m writing this, I can spin it however I want)
And finally I drank again for pointing out a small discrepancy in the “most haired” award from the AGM two weeks prior (it should have gone to me, but I’m done whining about it).
Announcements:
Green Dress weekend is cumming, If you don’t know already then you are dumb and we don’t want you anyway. I mean I don’t feel like copying the details so click on the link and read about them in last week’s trash
The Rash has cool, handmade, BFM shirts for $5 (I heard something about for $10 it comes with an option, but that’s unconfirmed) e-mail her for more details. She also has necklaces for $3, or $4 with a special charm (there’s a joke about pearls in there somewhere but it’s getting late so I’ll move on)
Now came the fun part, it was announced that we had a naming on our hands, now I must admit I was not fully prepared for the responsibility of a naming, being my first day on the job and all, and at this point in the night my fingers were not working to well in the cold. Anyway Just “Kansas” Dan was brought into the circle and interrogated. Nothing interesting was asked and nothing interesting was said. There was some word play with various Kansas mascots such as Cock Husker. Luckily for my sake and that of the hash, Tastes Like Chicken came through with a big save by offering up the obvious but somehow overlooked Wizard of Ass. Due to the cold and lack of other choices, it was instantly approved.
The circle made hast for the warmth of the bar and the sweet sound of the microphone.
Some of the highlights (or lowlights) of the Karaoke were:
Sky Rockets sung by Holy F*ck, Up Her Ali, Cause, Rear Engineer, and Two Clump
Dead or Alive sung by Son of Goat F*cker
In between songs I recall a lengthy discussion over the proper use of dawn vs. don as in:
It finally dawned / donned on me!
One intelligent source concluded that it was Don as in Don Corleone but this is incorrect.
At this point the pack died down, since I had off the next day I stuck around to see what goes on late night, and as expected some people who were supposed to leave with others did not, and some people who weren’t supposed to leave with others did, but their secrets are safe with me.
Well that’s about all this man-sec has to offer so until next time…
On, on you crazy diamonds,
Two Clump Chump
