29 June 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  Nothing particularly interesting has happened to me personally this week, but I did find what is quite possibly the most horrifying music video of the most horrifying remix ever.  It’s the timeless disco anthem Don’t Leave Me This Way, sung in a New Wave fashion by what appears to be a 12-year-old Staples employee wearing too-large pleated khakis and polo shirt, with a haircut that does not say “Mohawk” so much as it does “I affixed chalkboard eraser to the top of my head.”  It’s even more horrifying than Candi Stanton’s disco version of “Stand By Your Man” which is really saying something.

(And if you’ve clicked on the first link, then click here and waste a bunch more time.  I suggest starting with Bizmarkie’s “Just a Friend” and going from there, but that’s me.)

And what does this have to do with this week’s hash?  As usual, absolutely nothing. 

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1 June 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  I was trying to think of a really clever opening anecdote for this trash, but the only interesting thing that’s happened to me this week is that I set my kitchen on fire.  Again.  I really would like to invite y’all over for dinner sometime, but it would probably end in tragedy, so I can’t. 

Instead, I write the trash.

And this week, hashers gathered at Krupa’s in the art museum district, starting with Rash and Cunting Season, and followed by Bitchard, Looney Tunes visiting from Memphis, virgins Just Craig, Just Jennifer, Just Conan (pronounced “connin’. trust me.) Oral Oh!, Little F*ckin’ Winkie, Scooby Snatch, Bumble Beaver, Cause for Blindness, E = My Cock Squared, Strap On, Dry Hump, who joined the Mob after changing in the middle of the street in front of a bunch of college girls, and Can You Hear Me Now?

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15 June 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  When recalling fond memories of high school prom, the first thing that comes to mind for many is that fabulous (or hideous) dress or tux.  Others remember pregaming, sneaking in a flask, and trying to spike the punch.  And some of us remember just trying to get laid.  The BFM’s 3^rd Annual Prom at Bonner’s had enough variety to take everyone back to the 80s.  Or the 90s.  Or the year 2000 if your hash name involves grasping meat stuffed in casings of animal intestine. 

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8 June 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  As this was the week of 6/6/06, I was naturally on the lookout for any potential signs of the impending Apocalypse.  The only thing I saw that *maybe* portended the end of civilization as we know it was during my train ride home, wherein I watched a very annoying woman get attacked by a giant flying cockroach. And then my train caught fire.  (I’m not kidding.) So from this, I’d like to conclude that that when Death comes, at least for me, it will be riding neither a pale horse, nor a pale cow, but rather the R5 Paoli/Malvern Local.

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1 June 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  So it’s not technically summer yet.  But the temperature did top 80 degrees and there was precipitation.  And who can argue with a subtle,
witty film reference?  Okay, end of disclaimer.

The lightning bolts already flashing through the evening sky and the surprisingly accurate forecast of rain didn’t deter the BFM in gathering for its 119^th trail at the New Wave Café.  Tickle My Elmo, Stacks, Scooby Snatch, and self-appointed hare Oral Oh! were already enjoying brews when I arrived at the bar.  Soon Can You Hear Me Now?, Cause for Blindness, E=MyCock², Little F*cking Winkie, Little Red Riding Wood, Rash, Sly Fox, and Strap On found their way to the bar, creating a conglomeration of hashers next to the waitress station and clearly pissing off the waitresses.  After stowing our bags in Dry Hump’s Jeep, Oral Oh! headed out with her bag of the flour and the mob followed in pursuit several minutes later.   

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1 May 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  So this week’s hash was a surprisingly competitive one for the Mob, who‘s competitive achievements to date have consisted of…basically nothing, really, unless you count spawning the worst karaoke participant ever (Little F*cking Winkie).  But! in this newly competitive BFM spirit, for the duration of reading this trash,  I recommend that you hum to yourself either: 1. The theme to Mortal Kombat, 2. the Olympic theme or, 3.  the theme to the Wide World of Sports to yourself.  Maybe even picture that one clip that they play while saying “…and the agony of defeat” where that skier goes pinwheeling down the mountain into those orange cargo nets or whatever-the-hell they put on the slopes.  Whatever you like.  I’m trying to set a mood, here, people.  Work with me. 

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1 May 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  It was a dark and stormy night when the BFM gathered at Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar in South Philly for its 116^th trail.  Simply average folks may have been put off by the inclement weather; however, the mob is not exactly average.  We may not be guaranteed shiggy in our urban hashing environment, but Philly can always deliver crappy weather.  Crappy weather AND a trip through a dodgy neighborhood as Philly has no shortage in either department.

I arrived at the bar (on time this week!) with Fur Snatcher to find an autohashing Skin Fiddle holding court at the bar with Cunting Season, Dry Hump, Meat Tenderized, Rash, Scooby Snatch, She Man, Stacks, a clean shaven Tickle My Elmo, and some adorably tiny pony bottles of Miller High Life.  Popeye’s Bitch arrived on his bike and was followed by Oral Oh!, Strap On, and E=MyCock².  Our fearless GM gathered a fistful of bendy straws and offered them to the eager mob.  Scooby Snatch drew the lucky short straw and bravely forged out into the dampness with his bag of flour in tow.  The mob waited so patiently, that the requisite five minute head start extended until someone finally realized that we were supposed to leave the bar and actually start looking for flour blobs. 

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4 May 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  So this week the Ben Franklin Mob met at Buffalo Billiards in Olde City, a nice space with an upstairs…a place we’d probably visit on a normal night….but Thursday is never a normal night when you’re with the BFM.
Tonight, we had $1 bottles of Miller Lite (ehh) and Miller High Life (ewww).
Cunnilingus Interuptus hared a dead trail that wound through the city (invoking disciplinary actions) with a stop at Hard Rock. Note to self…don’t do beer check at a bar that charges $35 for two, yes two, pitchers!!! Ouch…
First to roll in was STD. She "followed her own trail." About 20 minutes later, the pack staggered in (sober from the beer check). Present in the group: Rash, Fiber Opdick, LFW, E=MyCockSquared, Stap On, Jamaican Me Horny, Hold the Sausage, Oral Oh!, Lil’ Red Riding Wood, Popeye’s Bitch (he actually ran trail), Just Maritza, Stacks, Cause for Blindness, SheMan, Just Dan brought Just Brandon, Chilled Cuntlick visiting from the Gator H3 in Florida brought her sis Just Marie.
After gathering about 40 bottles of beer, we followed the pack up the stairs…except those who were in the line behind Popeye’s Bitch who thought that the circle was in the ladies room.
Once upstairs, the circle convened, well as our stand-in RA called it…"A circle of Lazy Fuckers" as the first one’s up the stairs grabbed the available seats and refused to join the standing hashers.
First In: STD
Last In: Lil’ Red Riding Wood
Autohashers: Fiber Opdick
Rash
Oral Oh!
Just Maritza
Cause for Blindness
Visitor: Chilled Cuntlick honored the BFM with it’s first ever choosing of the body part by, without a second of contemplation, lifted her shirt. I think Winkie was happiest…What a hash for Skin Fiddle to miss!!

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27 April 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  Real quick – I said I’d write the trail part of the hash from two weeks ago at Bonner’s, so here’s the short version:  There was a lot of running.  And there was a lot of ass-slapping.  And two beer checks.  The End.

Ok, now that that’s out of the way…. This week’s hash started at The Irish Pub, a place that’s way nicer than the places we ordinarily frequent.  C*nting Season and Fiber Opdick arrived first, followed by Just Stephanie and Just Mark from LVH3, Rash, He’s a Lesbian, Jamaican Me Horny from Atlanta, Oral Oh!, Skin Fiddle, Can You Hear Me Now?, Tickle My Elmo, Just Maritza, Just Jamie, Stacks, Dry Hump, Nice Shoes, Wanna F*ck?, Cause for Blindness, Self Service, Just Andy, Just Dan, E = My Cock Squared, Strap On, and Little Red Riding Wood.  The Mob gathered at the back of the bar, and Ms. Season summarily distributed the straws around until she was left with her very own short straw. But Can You Hear Me Now? gallantly stepped up  and headed off with the bag of blue flour. 

Five or ten minutes later, the Mob poured out onto the sidewalk in search of trail.  They took off west down Walnut St, scaring a group of teenaged tourist girls and nearly getting hit by a bus.  And seriously, people, you KNOW how they drive here in in Philadelphia.  ESPECIALLY the SEPTA buses. [Motto: “A light timed for 35 is also timed for 70.”] STOP RUNNING INTO TRAFFIC. God. 

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20 April 2006 – PHILADELPHIA:  Some stories are composed of unbiased fact.  Some stories are composed of unfortunate lies.  And then there are stories that are simply based on confusion.  This account of the BFMH3’s 113^th trail at the B and W Bar will be of the latter variety.  Why?  Well, I kind of sort of missed the start of the hash and then became kind of sort of confused by some pretty red flour from last week’s hash and then basically decided to scrap trying to find the trail in favor of channeling my inner Rocky.  And why was I late in the first place?  I was industriously researching clever ways to use leftover Easter candy and just plain wasting time watching fine films reenacted in 30 seconds by bunnies.

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