BFM # 231, THE BRITISH ARE COMING, THE BRITISH ARE CUMMING!
Posted on July 28, 2008
Every so often the Ben Franklin Mob plays host to a variety of miscreants from around the world, who make our colorful allotment of wankers and closet sociopaths look well adjusted. Some are not so innocent bystanders who are attracted by the bawdy songs and sweaty running fools who decide to drink near them. Others find us on the Internet and then join us to shower us with emails, spam and Youtube clips. Some are even former cops who once almost locked up a bunch of dumbasses who attracted their attention by spreading flour in a big white X in front of police (in riot gear, no less) a few blocks away from the riots at the Republican convention.
The virgins to our hash usually come in onesies and twosies, and some can be quite frightening. Take, for instance the one virgin who showed up and actually KNEW all the words to “The S&M Man,” Others have shown up and never come back. Remember Just Dave? But I don’t think we have ever had almost TWENTY virgins all show up at once, have we? And certainly not almost twenty British Paratroopers.
How did all this come about? Sit down, dear readers and rest your feet, this shall take a while. As most know, I have an annoying habit of periodically dressing like gravel, shaving my head and living with men. (I used to dress like a tree but they changed our uniforms). Well my reserve unit played host to a week of jumping out of perfectly good airplanes with members of the British Army’s 4th Parachute Battalion, henceforth known as 4th Para. Their regimental sergeant major, Just Curt, and I decided over some beers that it would be a really neato keen idea if we brought a couple of the chaps out to Philadelphia for a night. They had been cooped up at Ft Dix all week had never seen our fair city. I mean, what’s the harm, right?
So we convoyed out to Druid’s keep in a set of rental cars, and made it there in one piece. As we all walked into the bar, I saw Up Her Ali look at me dumbfounded. Here were all these guys, in shape, each one wearing black shorts and a black T-shirt with the 4th Para logo on it, and who were looking for two things, beer, and women, and not necessarily in that order.
Fiber Opdick, who not only has a habit of hurling himself out of aircraft in flight, looked at me and said, “You son of a bitch”. He had wanted to join us jumping, but alas has never been jumpmaster qualified and couldn’t get orders, so it was like me rubbing his nose in it. He needn’t have worried, though since I had slammed in earlier on Tuesday and was too injured to run. (See BFM # 217 for a description of how I usually do a Parachute Landing Fall).
Interestingly enough, most of the single women of the BFM were conspicuous by their absence. It was eerie, like when you see deer all over all year round and then they all vanish when hunting season starts… hmmmm.
WHO DID SHOW:
RAIDR, Junkyard, Just Stephanie, S&M Man, Big Tackle, Can You Hear Me Now, Cause For Blindness, Cleavage To Beaver, Cousin It, Fiber Opdick, Flounder, Jingle Balzzz, Lick Hymen, Little Red Riding Wood, He’s A Lesbian, Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, Subcuntinent, The Rash, Mayor Quimby, Two Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Working Girl, Three Balls, Just Adriana, Deadwood, Yeast of Burden, Soft Core Anaylst, Just Mike, Just Tom, Where’s My Vagina, Just Joner, and Just 4th Para (consisting of Just Curt, Just Tim #1, Just Eddy #1, Just Tim #2, Just Mo, Just Paul, Just Quiz, Just Rob, Just Steve #1, Just Steve #2, Just Matt, Just Paul, Just Joe, Just Steve #3, Just Chris, Just Grant, Just John, Just Eddy #2, Just Shep, and Just Stewart).
Those of our female hashers who did show up had various reactions, from Subcuntinent grinning wildly (but she does that all the time), to Cleavage to Beaver periodically yelling “Fuck!” to Cause drooling to Rash walking in and shaking her fist up and down saying “YES!!!” The only one who didn’t seem phased was Little Red Riding Wood who nodded, grabbed a beer downed it and started screaming at the top of her lungs to get out for chalk talk.
Rash and Big Tackle volunteered to take everyone on a little run so that our visiting virgins could see our fair city.
THE TRAIL:
Since I was auto hashing I had to rely on Soft Core Analyst’s tardy notes, and word of mouth to how the trail went. Apparently, our Co-hares decided to start out deceptively light, and ran the pack straight to Drinkers down on Market Street. The mob and Brits were quite obliging, and then the hares went out and RAN THEIR DICKS INTO THE DIRT, and took them all the way from one river to the other, by way of South Street. Then, after that, took their happy asses back again and this time up to SubCuntinent’s parking lot for a margarita check.
Our cousins from across the pond had no choice, since they didn’t know where the hell they were, but to follow trail to its very end. The poor sods. When told them the basic concept of the hash, they assumed it would be running from bar to bar. And we HAVE been known to do that, haven’t we? OK, so I may have neglected to emphasize the running part, but they are young and in shape, they’ll get used to it. Oh and how funny is it that Brits created hashing and only ONE of the blokes from 4th Para had even heard of it?
Meanwhile I had limped my way to the margarita check, and stood there, dumbfounded as Subby and Just Joner ran up grinning like maniacs, ahead of the hares. Um. Ok, nice job. Then Rash ran up giggling maniacally, with a huffing and puffing Big Tackle following.
A few minutes later the first of the mob came in, with the 4th Para dudes leading. They looked smoked. And I swear if it wasn’t for my owwie I would have joined them. Really, I would have. Misery loves company. Mayor Quimby ran up and stared death at me. “I’ll fucking kill you” he hissed between gasps for air. Me? What did I do? I wasn’t the hare. Now, Quimby had also worked all day and took part in a work softball game before hand. At least he showed up in a baseball uniform, so I doubt he would just wear such a thing lounging around. But then again, we are talking Quimby here…
The mob then decided that they had had enough fun and headed back to Druid’s Keep. Now I forgot to mention that half of our cousins were a little nervous about going into an Irish bar of any sort in the city, since the Paras were indirectly kind of the inspiration for U2’s Sunday Bloody Sunday, but I assured them that the average Yank thought the song had something to do with Martin Luther King. Hell, half of us Irish Americans can’t even find Ireland on the map, let alone remember an event that happened in Derry in 1972.
Finally Little Red Riding Wood (The paras were calling her “The Ginger Ninja”) started bellowing for us all to form a….
CIRCLE:
HARES: The Rash and Big Tackle
VIRGINS: Just 4th Para, Just Joner, He’s A Lesbian made them all come.
VISITORS: Just Mike (NOLA H3), Deadwood & Yeast of Burden (Hockessin H3, seriously do these two even count as visitors anymore? Can’t we get them a green card or something?)
FIRST IN/ LAST IN: Just Shep/ Cause for Blindness
AUTO HASHERS: He’s A Lesbian, Can You Hear Me Now,
CUMS LATELYS: Where’s My Vagina, Fiber Opdick
ACCUSATIONS:
Just Curt for racing Can You Hear Me Now (Who I am guessing was riding his bike) and Just Stewart for the “when one sergeant major drinks” rule
Cleavage to Beaver for walking the trail and then running the last 100 feet.
Just Justin for tech on trail
Jingle Balzzz for riding his bike to Germantown
Just Stewart and Just Adriana for canoodling in circle and Just Curt for the “When one sergeant major drinks” rule.
Just ___ (he later asked not to be named)for having short shorts (which he quickly dropped to his ankles, not just once, or twice but three times, which prompted a cheer from the lady hashers as he started shaking his money-maker)
ANNOUNCEMENTS:
Bruceapalooza Check www.bruceapalooza.com
Cousin It’s Tailgate extravaganza
Aug 8th, Philly Full Moon,
With that the circle closed.
Afterwards there were more extracurricular activities including an impromptu boat race in between the Brits and the Yanks in which two teams sat on their asses like a boat. The stern drinks first and each one follows until they are done. I’m happy to report that the former colonists won. Although it might not be proud to announce that we are bigger lushes than our visiting virgins.
In the meantime we also noticed a nice little meeting of the minds between Just Adriana and Just Stewart, who were comparing notes. Now I don’t want to say that Just Stewart is old, but he told me that he had been to Philly before, looking for some insurgent leader named Washington. Anyone who witnessed the event please think up names, as I feel that Just Adriana is now ripe for a naming!
The bewitching hour fast approached and we needed to get these blokes home since a bunch of them had to hurl themselves out of a helicopter the next day. Yeah, right, it was like herding cats. Paras scattered to the four winds, We had to peel Cause off of one, and four others, gathered around Rash like panting hyenas, waved me away. And I don’t know what else happened but Just Stephanie came up to me, spun me around and looking deep into my eyes, whispered, “Thank you so much for bringing them.”
We took them off to Genos, where I got to witness two Brits and a Scot, all piss-drunk order cheeseteaks in front of the sign that says, “Speak English” It was really funny, trust me.
And what happened to everyone else? On our way home, I got a txt message from Rash, asking “How much is a cab to Fort Dix?” which caused peels of laughter to erupt in my car. “Big Boy Rules!” Just Curt laughed. Apparently our four Rash-courters spilled into a cab, told the Bangladeshi driver (who’d been in the US about a week) to take them to Fort Dix and all passed out inside the cab, causing the poor guy to drive them all over South Jersey before waking them up outside the gate and demanding $160.00
Nice.
OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“I want someone to touch my fanny and not my American Fanny!” Cause
“I thought that was your dick size or your IQ but you couldn’t make up your mind” –unk British Hasher
On On, YFF
He’s A Lesbian
BFM # 230 – Hash By Me (The not so ultimate Shiggy Trail)
Posted on July 21, 2008
While cruising down the parkway, looking for a place to dock, I saw many a hasher aimlessly wondering about looking for the bar. The scene reminded me of a cheesy zombie movie, with a glazed look in their eyes the hashers were searching, only for beer instead of humans (I think). See no one mentioned that the bar was in an apartment building. As I approached Gallagher’s Tavern (no relation to our RA), I was relieved to find that there were separate doors for the bar and the lobby, we might have a chance at not getting kicked out of this one.
Who Came:
Big Tackle, Billy G Goat, Cause for Blindness, Clevage to Beaver, Cum on my Tits, Cousin It, Dancing Fool, E=MC2, Fruit of the Clue, He’s a Lesbian, Hold the Sausage, Holy Fuck, Jingle Ballzzz, Just Adriana, Just Dev, Just Jen, Just Julie, Just Justin, Just Mark, Just Steve, Lick Hymen, Little Red Riding Hood, Mayor Quimby, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Nappy Headed Ho, Piss Cycle, Popeye’s Bitch, Raider, Rear Engineer, S&M Man, Scooby Snatch, Short Distance Rimmer, Sloppy Ho, Strap On, Subcuntinent, The Rash, Two Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Virgin Pimp, We’re Not Voting, Working Girl
The Trail:
Now a quick note on the trail, this was pegged as the Ultimate Shiggy trail, unfortunately our lawyers and Police liaisons advised us against this, so portions of the trail were omitted; however, it was still Shigg-tastic. After a brief outdoor chalk talk where we learned about chicken trails, the pack headed off towards the parkway with a speed and excitement not normally seen from our check-hanging hashers. Due to various overachieving activities, I opted to take the walkers trail; unfortunately this consisted of walking two blocks to the Art Museum for the second beer check. I was treated to the details of the first beer check, while waiting and for the pack, and being eaten alive by bugs. The first beer check was on a grassy knoll by some train tracks on 22nd street, and that’s all I have to say about that. While waiting for the pack we noticed a cardboard bed with a stained pillow, and a tube of suntan lotion nearby. One hasher commented that it looked like Dancing Fool and S&M Man had a rendezvous planed. As the pack approached we directed them to the stash of beer, and they willingly marched into the dark and questionable path into the woods. One hasher asked” is this where the Fairmount rapist lives” (read this article, the picture and description sound a lot like a “bike riding” hasher we all know) The pack began filling out of their drinking den and off towards the on-in. I offered to help Jingle Ballzzz transport the rest of the beer, in his car, to circle. Through some poor navigating and a bit of confusion as to where he left the on in at, the pack beat us, and were standing around some train tracks with their normal confused look. Once the circle supplies were unloaded we began trekking down the train tracks as at least 5 people asked if we were in the scene from Stand By Me, which I recently discovered was based on a Novel by Steven King (is there anything he hasn’t written). As we marched deeper into the “woods” I pointed out that we weren’t getting any farther from the houses, just farther from our escape route if the cops show up. After settling on a spot, or co-RA Rear Engineer pointed out that although these are live tracks, we shouldn’t see any trains, but be careful.
Circle
Hares: Jingle Balls/ Little Red Ridding Wood
Virgins: Just Justin by Maxim Just Mark by Up her Ali
First in/ Last in: Working Girl/ E=MC2
Visitors: None
Cums Lately: Cum On My Tits, Just Steve, Nappy Headed Ho
Auto Hashers: Skin Fiddle, Hold the Sausage, Two Clump Chump, and Up Her Ali/Big Tackle joined us at the second beer check after dragon boating
Accusations
Subcuntinent for bringing an umbrella on trail
S&M Man for doing well on his Med Boards (they must have lowered the standards)
Fruit of the Clue for having a picture of his entire family in the bath tub
Rear Engineer & He’s a Lesbian for wearing matching shirts and Cause for wearing the other half of Rear’s socks, which had a mysterious white stain on them
Right about this time someone yelled train, and sure enough a train came roaring down the tracks at a blistering 15 mph. Everyone scrambled to collect the beer and a few hashers sought cover deep in the woods and up in trees. As the train rolled through we realized this could be a while as an impromptu “why are we waiting” broke out. Just as the mismanagement attempted to reconvene circle, the train passed and circle continued with the first accusation going to:
Rear for claiming that we would probably not see any trains
Nappy Headed Ho for claiming we would get sucked in by the train if we got too close
S&M / Cleavage to Beaver for showing up at Sausage’s as S&M Pirates
Lesbian something about not getting a stupid joke about girls
Jingle Ballzzz for confusing Midnight Tranny with Cum On My Tits
After circle we marched back to Gallagher’s to continue drinking. The pack was busy marveling over the 11 types of fries on the menu, while the mismanagement was scheming something. Just then we were called to the back of the bar for a possible renaming. Of course everyone started chanting “Were not voting” (see trash 229), but it was Midnight Tranny to Georgia brought into the circle. A story involving Cleavage and sweaty balls was told, and the pack was given the option to rename “Sweaty but Big” or keep Midnight. The pack voted to keep, and thus ended another failed attempted at naming. On a personal note, if we call for a naming every time Cleavage says something dirty, we won’t be able to remember anyone’s name. The pack went back to drinking and eating, I was called over by an un-named hasher who told me they think they were just hit on by another male hasher (don’t ask don’t tell).
Announcements
Phillies Tailgate: I don’t know the details it’s like a month away, ask Cousin It
BFM #231: Cavanaugh’s River Deck
Bruce-a-palooza: There is a web site www.bruce-a-palooza.com (it’s real I checked it out)
Strap on’s “Ninja Dildo, 69 reversed and then doubled hash”
Over Heard at the Hash
Working Girl “What do we do with the Chicken?”
Piss Cycle “I’ve always wanted to do it in a tunnel”
On, on,
Two Clump Chump
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BFM #229, Yunking Up The Hills
Posted on July 15, 2008
Any section of the city that rhymes with gunk has got to be fun, right? Manayunk, with its hills, shopping, trendy river bars, and atmosphere, makes a person forget for a moment that they are in Philadelphia. Until you try to park your flippin car, that is. Now, granted, Up Her Ali did warn everyone to take public trans or ride their bikes there, and several hashers did do just that, but for us Delco transplants, the idea of jumping on the R3 into center city then getting on the R whatever for Manayunk just did not appeal to me. There are times I’d rather bathe with a toaster than ride SEPTA, and this was one of them..
So I drove in, and was pleasantly surprised to find that it only took me two trips around the bar to find a parking spot. Right under the train tracks too, I might add. As I got out, I saw the ominous 1-hour parking limit sign greeting me, and said, ahh, screw it, I’ll eat the $45 later if I have to.
The bar looked familiar and it took me a while to realize that I had been there before on a bender back in the fall of 01. Sitting IN the window was Stacks, and several others. Still more hashers were attaching three locks a piece to their bikes.
YUNKING HASHERS:
Wind Up Toy (Smutty Crab H3), Hold the Sausage, Up Her Ali, Just Blythe, Just Mike, The Rash, Stacks, Virgin Pimp, Just Pam, Just Melissa, Dublin Dick, Just Stephanie, Big Tackle, Short Distance Rimmer, 2 Clump Chump, Rear Engineer, Just Dev, Working Girl, Cleavage To Beaver and her bitch, The S&M Man, Son Of A Goatfucker, Jus Dayna, Ass Parade (Portland H3), Mr. Snuffalupamuff, First Down, Just Adrianna, Holy Fuck, He’s A Lesbian, Little Red Riding Wood, Mayor Quimby, Just Tom, Tight Lips, Just Craig, Can You Hear Me Now, Fisted Sister, Cherry Poppins, Skin Fiddle, Scooby Snatch, and Skin Fiddle.
Stories were exchanged, some dick showed off his new mug, and before we realized what was happening, the BFM’s answer to Brangelina, Hold the Rimmer volunteered to Co-hare. They scampered away, and one of them probably removed a shirt and went out to lay trail. Little Red Riding Wood, who had been taking testoserine pills recently, immediately began ushering us outside with a few, “LET’S GO, PEOPLE, CHALK TALK, MOVE OUTSIDE FUCKING NOW!”s. Not for nothing, but I can imagine her being a drill sergeant, complete with that Aussie style hat they wear as they berate Basic trainees.
THE TRAIL
The lack of wisdom of letting someone who used to live IN Manayunk be the hare became quickly apparent as the trail immediately went up a hill, both ways. It must really suck living there in the winter when the roads freeze up. So we immediately ran up hill to Pretzel Park, so named because some butt munch decided to put a big statue of a soft pretzel in there. ADD moment here, but a soft pretzel is not an appropriate does NOT seem appropriate for Manayunk. South Philly, maybe. You want to have a statue that screams Manayunk, make one of some UPenn or Drexel Co-Ed, showing her tramp stamp as she pukes into the Schuylkill. Or of a bike rider puking on a steep hill.
Speaking of hills….
Back to the trail of tears. We ran across the park and uphill again on Tower Street, where I saw a Parking Authority Nazi driving up the street, looking for illegally parked cars, and wondered how badly I would be getting screwed this night. We turned left on Terrace and ran uphill again and then there was back check somewhere, and I was too busy huffing and puffing my fat ass up the street and catch my breath to realize where the hell we were to give an accurate description.
We hung a left Pechin and ran down there, past two Cookie Cutter Brittanies who thought they were so original, yelling, “Run, Forrest, Run!” Nice, girls, thank you for calling. Now try and name the oceans on either side of the US. We turned left on Lycombe and right on Dexter, Left on Green, again on Freeman, and right on Gay Street, which I believe is really appropriate for Manayunk. Oh and there is a place called Nob Hill on Gay Street. I’ll bet many a knob has been polished there.
The trail then went down these stairs that were overgrown by bushes, which looked really cool and old, and at the bottom, went right on DuPont and true to the masochistic form of our hairs, went right up the next set of stairs, I was about to head up there, when I heard our FRBs scream out, “Oh, MOTHERFUCKER! BACK CHECK 6!”
We continued down Silverwood where an oh so kindly helpful (and possibly homelessly drunk) bystander in camouflage told us he had seen some guy with no shirt on leaving dobs of white powder run up the stairs he was on, so up we ran, again, to Crams St, where we hung a left on Lexington.
I ran past some woman who yelled at me, “You’re gonna get hit by a car, you, idiot! They don’t look here!” I thanked her and replied that I saw her daughter a few blocks back on Pechin Street, and continued on, and into a field, where it looked like Son Of A Goatfucker was out there. The rest of the pack arrived, because we couldn’t find trail and we also found a few soccer balls that were left there. Just Jessica was so excited she did a cartwheel past me and I made a note so as to violate her for having too much fun.
During our meeting of the minds, someone finally yelled, “On On!” and we headed back the way we came and I tried to pez one of the FRBs with a Nerf ball that someone had left in the field. Maybe I am showing my age, but WTF? We would never have left balls in playground field where I am from. The kids these days, sheesh.
We ran back down Hermitage, hung a right on some street and left on Fountain, before someone yelled out about a beer check. A few of us decided that our fun meters were pegged and we decided to have an impromptu beer check at Union Jacks. About ten of us crowded in and the bartender immediately turned his back on us and decided to play catch up with his paperwork. It was obvious he saw us. What a dick! Someone yelled out “The real beer check is down here!” and off we went.
Downhill (finally) on a set of stairs under the railroad tracks, that in the waning light, looked fairly ominous. You’d think that many a rape has happened under these tracks, and before we knew it, we found ourselves running across a bridge to an open parking lot filled with empty truck trailers where, of course, we had the beer check. Great location. After a few minutes of this, off we ran, down the canal (Now, I didn’t even know they HAD a canal in Manayunk, but it was cool), which had been restored, and up onto Main Street, where we did the obligatory run through the outside dining areas of trendy restaurants, which, I’m sorry, but NEVER gets old. Seriously, I think it’s my favorite part of the hash. Especially seeing the ONIN right next to a young couple toasting their Merlots.
Total Distance 4.75 mi.
We wound up back at 105 Social and methinks we made a mental note to make this a hasher bar, since it was huge and we were the only people there. Cheese fries resting on top of a layer of Ranch Dressing awaited us, and I could feel my arties starting to clog as I enjoyed bite after bite of that creamy goodness. My revelry was disrupted by Little Red Riding Wood, who started bellowing for us all to form a….
CIRCLE:
HARES: Hold The Rimmer or should we call them Short Distance Sausage?
VIRGINS: Just Mike, and Just Tom (Holy Fuck made him come. Does anyone else notice she brings a fair share of virgins? Yes, she makes a lot of people come)
VISTORS:
Just Melissa (From Media? Since when do they have a hash?) Wind Up Toy (Smutty Crab H3), Ass Parade (Hockessin, Does that even count anymore?) and Just somebodyorother from Charlotte
CUMS LATELYS: Stacks, Cherry Poppins (just back from her world tour to Dubai and Jersey), Mayor Quimby, Scooby Snatch
FIRST IN/LAST IN: Virgin Pimp / Up Her Ali
AUTOHASHERS: S kin Fiddle, Scooby Snatch, Fisted Sister, Can You Hear Me Now, Mr Snuffalupamuff,
ACCUSATIONS:
Stacks for taking Pantaloons on the hash.
Just Blythe for pointing in the circle
Mayor Quimby for something or other
Virgin Pimp for being Virgin Pimp
Can You Hear Me Now for trying to make Stan break-dance
Short Distance Rimmer for running without a shirt. We didn’t see it, but we know he did it.
Can You Hear Me Now for throwing an empty beer cup
Mr. Snuffalupmuff for nursing Stan, and when one auto hasher drinks….
NAMING
Just Craig was brought into the circle. Now, no one liked the name Craigalicious and since Sloppy Ho was conspicuously absent (anything outside of center city scares her), we decided now was the good time to name him. The following suggestions were offered:
Craigalicious, Blinded By the Cause, Germ Gurgler, Broke Back Montherfucker, Welfare Queen, Bush Licker, Fuzzy Little Man Bitch, You Pay I’m Stupid, Takes It Up The Ass Like Stan, Eddie Munster, Twenty Four-Year-Olds, Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, Underachieving Ass Clown.
Voting started immediately, much to Up Her Ali’s consternation. The choices started being narrowed down and it looked like Fuzzy Little Man Bitch might be his name, but the Mob had other ideas this night. Ali’s constant bellowing of “WE’RE NOT VOTING, PEOPLE, WE’RE NOT VOTING!” led to our illustrious scribe adding THAT to the list and faster than Germany turned Nazi, the entire Mob started pumping fists and chanting “We’re Not Voting!” If you squinted, it looked almost like the Nuremburg rally, really. Even CYHMN was jacking his hand up and down like a “Sieg Heil” salute.
The combination of our chanting and Ali’s dismal realization that she had lost ALL control led to the WTF look on Just Craig’s face, like the Galactica crew realizing that Earth had been destroyed by a nuclear war. So without further fanfare, Just Craig will be named forevermore (Or at least until we change our minds or he does or says something really fucked up) as We’re Not Voting. Welcome, YFF! Hey there could be worse names….
ANNOUNCEMENTS:
7-17-08 the Ultimate Shiggy Trail (Somewhere in Fairmount)
Cousin It’s Tailgate Party sometime during football season now, but still for a Phillies game
Strap On’s Dildo Run
Full Moon Dartathalon Coming soon to a date and time near you
Bruceapalooza http://www.bruceapalooza.com (his sister will be there!)
With that, the Mob decided to entertain ourselves with renditions of Jesus Saves, The S&M Man, Chicago Department Store Failure, and Yogi Bear. One dumbass Hasher had to get to bed early so he could spend hours outside the Apple store waiting for a new iphone. People slowly staggered home and I wandered out and my jaw dropped to see NO parking tickets on my truck! Yay!
OVERHEARD AT THE HASH
“Nothing I like better than ass in my face.” Unk Hasher
“Can we NOT talk about your penis for once please?” The Rash
On On, YFF
He’s A Lesbian
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BFM 228: The 40th of July
Posted on July 6, 2008
Its way too crappy to go outside today, and I’m exhausted from trying to keep a few hundred teenagers entertained all weekend. That means you are getting the treat of early trash. To make it extra special, I can’t read my notes, so not only will trash be worse than the drivel you have come to expect, but with the added bonus of being completely wrong as well. Try to contain your excitement.
The mob gathered at Cherry street tavern. I got there early, and wandered about aimlessly with about half the mob. Fruit of the Clue arrived, and I think I can speak for everyone in saying that we were all disappointed to learn that he (and his shorts) will be out running again. Tonight he chose something understated from “way back in the drawer.” On that note, I decided that would be a good moment to go inside to drop off my stuff, but I couldn’t help but notice Target putting The Moves on one of the virgins. Not wanting to get in the way, I skedaddled outside just in time to see our hare Little Red Riding Wood arrive back covered in chalk. Rear Engineer gathered the mob together and led us in chalk talk
Who Came:
Hold the Rimmer, Just Chad, Cause for Blindness, Flounder, Target, Cousin It, First Down (who tried to hide), Fruit of the Clue, Jingle Ballzzz, Little Red Riding Wood, Mr Muff, Pink N Puffy Rides the Huffy, Piss Cycle, Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, Skin Fiddle, Son of a Goat Fucker, The Rash, Two Clump Chump, Virgin Pimp, Just Jessica, Jubal, Big Tackle, Major Piece of Ass, Likes the Hard One, Anal Probonor, Sly Fox, Just Adriana, Just Pendejo, Soft Core Analyst, Capt Handaroo, Just Asley, E, Strappy, Jubal, RaidR, Dublin Dick, Just Melissa, Just Jessica, S&M man, Just Dev, Scooby, PissCycle, Panic Button, Poodle? Principal Fuckup, Can You Hear Me Now? Attilla the Hung
Trail wandered north towards the academy of sciences (where Just Peter got so distracted by the PIRATES!!!! exhibit that he crashed into a perfectly innocent curb) We ran straight through the 4th of july food tents that had shut down Ben Franklin Parkway, and down across Wood st. before looping back towards Rittenhouse square
Trail led past the chic outdoor restaurants (and some extremely high quality plastic surgery) and behind CYHMN’s apartment building. Not wanting to be seen with us in public, he let us in through the back door, and up the freight elevator to the roof deck.. He did take care of us, there was a case of Budweiser 40’s (with a couple of extra colt 45’s) thoughtfully provided and enjoy we did. I felt just like Tina Turner in “Confidential”. Signs were posted about not throwing things off the roof, but several cunning linguists in the group noted that nothing was posted about jumping off. I know that spending enough time with you people made me seriously consider it. Eventually we meandered down and back on trail. We were supposed to be obnoxious and go straight through the screen of office space. Unfortunately there was a national security event, with the popo, paramedics, fire department, and homeland security all involved. Not wanting another wolfman incident, we got turned around and shortcutted back to the bar, where S&M Man took the initiative (and a hollowed out flamingo) to make sure we were all as drunk as possible before circle. He did his job well, we were much more of a mess than usual. Rear Engineer then gathered us together for circle
Circle:
Hare: LRRW
Virgins: Regina – Muff, Ashley – Captain Handaroo, Adriana –Self, Chrissy - Rear
Visitor: Captain Handaroo, Dublin Dick, Panic Button, and Just Melissa – there was one good joke in there about pirates, bleached blondes and eyepatches.
First In – E
Last In – Cause
Comes-Latelies – Just Chad, Principal Fuckup, Major Piece of Ass, Like the Hard One
Auto Hashers – Skin Fiddle, Pink and Puffy, and Principal Fuckup
Accusations
Jingle Ballzzz – violating his restraining order by stalking 13 year old boys on the way to hash
Scooby – being too good to run with us and biking instead.
Rimmer – running w/o his shirt. Seriously guys, I don’t think consequences are reaching this kid
RE running circle while a visitor at Baton Rouge
RE for a Viking hat violation
Jingle and Soft Core – being twinsies in the circle and representing another hash
And when one on-sec drinks, 2 Clump, Hold the Sausage, and Scooby
Skinfiddle – insulting fine guiness beer
Somebody was accused of food in circle.
Just Peter – was accused of hash crash
FOTC – was accused of poor fashion sense
Naming
We had a naming this evening, and Just Jessica kneeled before the hash. Several names were tossed out, Upper Deck Her, Betty Boob, Germ Gurgler were crowd favorites, but ultimately she was named, “Cleavage to Beaver”
Announcements:
Haberdashery – The Rash will talk to you. – when she’s good and ready.
July 8th - Philly Hash - hared by Mandongo in West Chester
July 10th - BFM # 229 – tentatively in Manayunk at 105 Social
SomeTime - Philly Full Moon Hastille Day D’Artathalon - somewhere
July 17th BFM #230 – Shiggy on a BFM trail????. Bring long pants, and a flashlight. And maybe a rape whistle.
July 19th - Philly Roller Girls - Philly Roller Derby Doubleheader! Doors at 1, bout at 2. Bumble Beaver AKA Tara Newone will be there and promises a pool party after the night is over http://www.phillyrollergirls.com/
July 26th – Phillies Tailgate organized by Cousin It
August 9th – Bruce-A-Palooza in Cape May. See website
September 6 - Year of Strap On - Philly Hash # 1600
All day event Saturday 9.6.08
$25 (pay before July 4)
Strap On-Ninja T-Shirt - $10
Register and t-shirt here: www.phillyhash.com/strapon
Quotes of the Night:
Cleavage to Beaver - What are the odds I get 2 cougar cups?
S&M Man – I already told her its not going to fit in there
Just Chad – That’s classy with a K (referring to an unk hashers choice of clothing)
Cleavage to Beaver - I want to move in to this roof deck!
Unk Hasher – You mean move in with Can You?
Cleavage to Beaver – No I’d rather be homeless and indigent. But on the roof deck
Jingle Ballzzz
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BFM # 227 – A re-run
Posted on July 3, 2008
Despite Up Her Ali’s clues, there were several people who did not understand the significance of 227. Although we didn’t go down to DC to visit the famed stoop of our youth, we did see many familiar sights. Our first familiar sight was the bar Westy’s, home of Karaoke and the famous Westy’s Fries. Our next familiar sight was the return of Little Fucking Winki, who only comes to town when we are at Westy’s, I’m beginning to think that he didn’t actually move, he just lives underneath the bar. To his defense he did bring Just Karen with him, a very convincing Canadian.
Who Came:
Anal ProBoner, Atilla the Hung, Big Tackle, Billy G Goate, Cause for Blindness, Cousin It, Cunting Season, Dublin Dick, Fiber Opdick, Flounder, Fruit of the Clue, Heave Ho, He’s a Lesbian, Hold the Sausage, Holy Fuck, Jingle Ballzzz, Just Dev, Just Jen, Just Jess, Just Julie, Just Karen, Just Neighbor John, Just Peter, Just Stephanie, Lick Hymen, Little Fuckin Winkie, Little Red Riding Wood, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Nappy Headed Ho, Panic Button, Pink n’ Puffy, Piss Cycle, Plastic Pud, Popeye’s Bitch, Radar, S&M Man, Scooby Snatch, Short Distance Rimmer, Skin Fiddle, Sloppy Ho, Subcuntinent, The Rash, Three Balls, Two Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Virgin Pimp, Working Girl
The Trail:
Note: Like so many of the BFM’s daily activities, this trail had a secret plot. In an attempt not to divulge top secret information, it was discovered several hashes ago that a certain cross-dressing pilot, made an emergency landing in an undisclosed country, and happened to buy several cases of quality German beer. It was further discovered that said hasher was willing to share this stash with the hash (rhyming unintentional). Since there was a beer check already in the works, I am willing to give this trail “theme status” which excludes it from the rigorous scrutiny that a not purpose laid trail would normally endure. That being said, here goes…
Little Red Ridding Wood agreed to escort Working Girl on what I think was his maiden voyage (we have enacted an unofficial rule that all virgin layers bring a helper, and for good reason). On her way out the door, Wood asked me to run chalk talk in her absence, I’d like to think it had to do with my esteem within the hash or my ability to command a crowd, but more likely I was the first person of vague importance that she saw on her mad dash out the door. Luckily for me (and all of you) our illustrious GM showed up and took the reigns. We were introduced to some virgins and some visitors and then off we went. Trail went west then north then east. After being chastised by the back of the pack for running to slow, I made my way up to the front, were I found some of our newer members leading the way. How did I know they were new? They didn’t realize the Hares were a block ahead of them. I yelled “on hare” and took off. Working girl took off and being the gentleman that he is left Ridding Wood in his dust, feverishly trying to lay marks. After a two block battle, they gave up, and informed me of the beer check. I declined to take over, but decided to join them in laying. After instructing the virgins to give us 5min we took off towards Working Girl’s, a old Artist’s material warehouse on Buttonwood St. W Girl and I went up to get the beer, while Ridding Wood was sent down to open the parking lot gate. We walked out the door to the elation of the pack who was eagerly awaiting the promised beverage. As we divvied up the beers, which all had different methods of opening, the other hare rounded the corner gate remote in hand. Some how she got lost walking down three flights of stairs? As the pack consumed their beverages a confused neighbor returned home from the gym, hell of a welcome home. I offered him a beer and explained who we were, and he was instantly intrigued, who wouldn’t be. As we stood around Just Jess decided to fix her hair, with her beer still in her hand, and spilled half of it on our host who was kneeling down to retrieve a beer for another hasher. The beer check rapped up and the pack took off. We started running west back towards the bar when at the corner of Market and Callowhill, the trail “thinned” out a bit. The pack of new FRB’s wanted to look for more trail, I explained that we were a block away and it was ON IN, but they insisted in following in the footsteps of E and finding every mark (there were no more marks).
Circle:
It’s Westy’s so that means outside circle, I seem to recall last time I could barely write I was so cold.
Hares: Working Girl/ Little Red Ridding Wood
First in/ Last in: Pisscycle-Anal ProBoner (really it was Subcuntinent but she refuses down-downs whenever possible)/ Lick Hyman-Working Girl
Virgins: Just Karen by Little Fucking Winki, and Just John by the Hash
Visitors: Panic Button from H5, Dublin Dick from Hokesin, Just Stephanie from New Jersey Bimbos
Cums Lately: Little Fucking Winki, Attillia the Hung, Big Tackle, Fiber Opdick, Just Peter (were not sure about this one, I swear he is a transplant from Erie, via Beijing, but he claims he hashed with us once like a year ago)
Auto Hashers: Skin Fiddle, Heave Ho, Hold the Sausage
Accusations:
(Here is another on of those re-runs I was telling you about)
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.
He’s A Lesbian for picking his nose on trail
Two Clump Chump for catching the hare and not removing an article of clothing
Just Julie for tech on trail (she doesn’t drink so Lick Hymen stood in for her, us chosen ones gotta stick together)
Just Jess Alcohol abuse (see beer check)
Little Red Ridding Wood Alcohol abuse (she was so excited when Fruit showed up, that she knocked over a beer)
At this point it was announced that we had a birthday and Cunting Season was called in to do a side-side, she took the beer, but said she wasn’t doing on her side. I didn’t know we had a choice, but seeing as how must of us are intimidated by her, no one argued. Then Fiber jumped into the circle exclaiming it was his birthday also. Between all the noise and the fact that Pink and Puffy was yapping in my ear, I don’t know if this was for real or not. But in any event he completed his down-down in proper form.
Announcements:
Full Moon Bash (Bike Hash): Too late it already happened, but we did name Just John
Phillies Tailgate: I don’t know the details it’s like a month away, ask Cousin It
BFM #228: Cherry Street Tavern, see the website for more info
Bruce-a-palooza: There is a web site www.bruce-a-palooza.com (it’s real I checked it out)
Over Heard at the Hash:
Cause for Blindness “How long did it take him to get it off?”
Anal ProBoner to Holy Fuck “Can I put Winki’s keys in your butt?”
On, on,
Two Clump Chump
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