When you look at the history of it, the act of celebrating Mexicans kicking the hell out a French army a hundred and forty years ago by dressing like a Mexican and drinking margaritas is really the act of looking for an excuse to drink. Seriously, read about the battle of Puebla sometime. An army of French troops got mugged by a bunch of Mexicans, who apparently, according to Wikipedia, stabbed them in the back, took the hubcaps off their horses and spray painted their forts. Apparently the French had hired them to mow their lawns, and a disagreement ensued. The French had actually agreed to leave Mexico and the battle wasn’t even supposed to happen, but, “When the Mexican people saw these French soldiers wandering about with rifles, they took it that hostilities had recommenced and felt threatened.”-Actual Wikipedia quote.

Ask anyone drinking that day, however, and to a man they will tell you it’s to celebrate Mexican Independence (Actual Mexican Independence Day is Sep 16th). Have it on a hash day, and we’re talking PARTAAY. Hey, at least we hashers KNOW the origins of our silly traditions.

So, dressed as an undocumented worker, I donned my $5 sombrero and headed into the Druids Keep, an Irish Bar, filled with real Lesbians, and their dogs, to celebrate a misunderstood holiday that is barely celebrated in Mexico. God, I love this country.

WHO STANKOed: Hold The Sausage, Just Meg, Short Distance Rimmer, Flounder, Cause For Blindness, Where’s My Vagina, Just Eliza, Just Jessica, Wild Bill, Dumpster, Rear Engineer, Eat Trail Suck Head (Visitor), 3 Balls, Just Dave, Can You Hear Me Now, He’s A Lesbian, Sternum And Rectum, Tits of Steel, Mr, Snuffleuphermuff, Doctor Squealgood, Shemale, Tube Cock, Bonzai Bush, Just Michele, Tickle My Elmo, Just Jen, Grab My Handlebars, Penis In My Ear, One Inch In, S&M Man, Shemale, and Piss Cycle (apparently PC is TWO words. Ya happy now? You can stop bombarding my facebook ).

Sausage started handing out straws and CAUSE, of all people, drew the short one. As we resigned ourselves to the trail lasting five days, Tits of Steel thrust her chest forward and decided to help. A quick conspiratory whispering session with Sausage followed in which the co-hares were told where the beer stop would be, and off they went. Since it was Cause, we decided to give her a decent chance and waited four hours before we chased after her.

TRAIL:
Upon exiting Druid’s Keep, we were confronted with the site of what can only be described as a flour explosion in the middle of Brown Street, and immediately looked around for Cause’s body, thinking that someone had made her a hood ornament. Apparently Sausage had yet to get a vaginoplasty for her bag of flower, and had also neglected to inform anyone of this. Finally someone yelled “ON ON” and we took off down Hancock Street towards Spring Garden. Do you know how hard it is to hold onto a Sombrero while you’re running? WTF! We hit all the back roads, running into parking lots and under Vine Street, next to a bum (Oh, I’m sorry, a Homeless person) who yelled a drunken expletive to us as we trucked on by, into Franklin Square for a Margarita stop. I snuck off into the tree line because I felt like tearing up my leg for no reason and then came back for some shots. From the stop, we headed up into North Philly. Since I felt particularly lazy, I decided to follow Rimmer to the beer stop, rather than run the trail.

I’m glad I did, because our hares had a hankering for some Ghetto Shiggy. Now I love urban decay as much as the next guy, but I have a minor problem with running unarmed through neighborhoods where I have been shot at or cleaned up bodies before. The last thing the pack needed would be me, saying, “Oh yeah, we had a shooting here, and over there is a drug corner” Instead, Rimmer and I wandered to the newly regentrfied Northern Liberties, near where some asshole used Subcuntinent’s apartment as an entry point to murder her neighbor. The beer stop was under a parking ramp, and no one apparently checked the unattended cooler. Nice. Glad Bin Laden’s dead, so he can’t use that info. (Like how I was able to mix in a current events reference?). We attacked the Busch beers like the media did the former President. (There’s two).

While we were swilling cheap brew, Tits wandered in, with a satisfied look followed by Cause sporting two bloody knees. Now we all made fun of cause, but later it dawned on me just HOW satisfied Tits looked. I missed it? Damn you, big belly of mine! We walked back and I decided to run and ended up at Liberties, an old bar where a cop had been killed in the 1870s. His portrait still adorns the wall there. I drank a quick Guinness for him and made it back to Druid’s Keep just in time for…

http://www.everytrail.com/view_trip.php?trip_id=1077386

CIRCLE:
HARES: Cause of Steel
VIRGINS: Just Michelle (Elmo made her come), Just Jessica (The internet made her come, as we think the bartender did later), Just Elize (Where’s My Vagina made her come)
VISITORS: Eat Trail Suck Head (NOLA H3)
FIRST IN/LAST IN: Cause/He’s A Lesbian
CUMS LATELYS: 3 Balls, Shemale, Just Jen, Wild Bill
HAT: Shemale
AUTO HASHERS: Shemale, S&M Man, Tickle My Elmo, Just Beredie

VIOLATIONS:
Just Dave: Singing a church song
Cause: Hash Crash, and Tits of Steel for the “when one hare drinks” rule
Rear Engineer: For squealing when something unreadable happened.
Tits of Steel: something unreadable
Hold The Sausage: For spilling shots
Penis In My Ear: For being Mexican, and LEGAL: Also He’s A Lesbian, Rimmer, Cause and Rear under the “When one person dressed like a Mexican drinks” rule

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
Full Moon H3: Two Clump is haring
June 9th: PROM PROM PROM PROM
With that, the mob slowly filtered out, with Just Dave doing his Virgin Pimp impression, and Just Jessica giggling insanely at everything the bartender said and motioning us all to leave…

OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“I’m basically a walking ‘That’s what she said’” – Tits of Steel
“Nothing like government housing to make you pick up your pace when you’re running behind.” –Just Meg
“That was my sphincter.”- Tickle My Elmo
“I have a shit ton of shit going on “- Just Meg
“It’s pretty much soggy now.”-Cause
“I don’t remember, but then she squirted something in my hair.” – Tits Of Steel

No Rock + 2 BN = Greatest Trail EVER

Especially since I laid it.
But, like a typical date, I’m getting ahead of myself here, and rushing to the climax. I wandered in to Tattooed Mom’s, happy as hell that I found a parking spot within a mile of the place. (Actually it was a half a block away), and after using the ATM parking thingy (when did THAT shit start?), I slid the little receipt thingy on my dash to avoid ending up like Cousin It’s car years ago. Inside, I found the usual miscreants already set up there, including one who keeps changing her hair style. We all started swilling the beers and awaiting everyone.

LUCKY HASHERS PRESENT: Sly Fox, Where’s My Vagina, Hold the Sausage, Short Distance Rimmer, Son Of A Goatfucker, One Inch In, Seizure Tits, Scooby Snatch, Rear Engineer, Just Meg, Bumble Beaver, Just Victor, Lips Around The Cock, Fire Down Under, Soft Core Analyst, S&M Man, Tube Cock, Bonzai bush, Can You Hear Me Now, He’s A Lesbian, Just Dave, Uncle Bad Touch, Mr Snupeluphermuff, Big Tackle, Virgin Pimp, Two Clump Chump, Tits Of Steel, Grab My Handlebars, Penis In My Ear

Hold The Sausage started running around with straws, and low and behold, we were actually doing a pick up hare again. Jesus, when was the last time I saw this happening? No Two Clump volunteerism, No 9 In the Rears, No Anal Pro Boners leading us all over to and losing us. Wow. I was shocked, and that’s why I took the first straw available. It was mangled on one end, and Sausage started cackling and thrusting a bag of flower in my hands. Shit. I had somehow managed to avoid being a hare for over 5 years though, so I guess it was about time.

THE GREATEST TRAIL EVER:
Right away I had problems, because the bag of flour that Sausage handed me had a hole in the bottom of it. I guess she’s into that kind of thing. It did make it easier just to smack the bag on the ground and leave a nice dollop there, but I digress.

My plan was to immediately run to a bar and hit them with a beer stop. The most ideal one was right next door, it was hasher friendly, and had an awesome back room for beer stops. But it was so damn close that even Cause could see the BN right from the front door. Damn. So I hit the back alleys and side streets, all the while imagining I could hear Rear leading the pack hot at my heels. I so wish I could have used the Last Man Up option that Carolina Trash has (LMU= you wait for the last person in the pack before you keep going, great and funny when someone yells “On Hare!” and you put about 10 LMUs one after the other). Anyway, I did the next best thing; I put checks up as I wound my way down to Rays Happy Birthday Bar for the first beer check.

I just planned to drop off some cash and continue, but dealing with the bartender was, err um… Challenging. Doing quick math trying to remember how many hashers there were, X 2 beers each, X price for beer, + decent tip. I’m not saying he was retarded, but, let me put it this way, remember the scene in Goodfellas with a Pre “Sopranos” Michael Imperioli is saying to Joe Pesci “No, Tommy, I thought that you said that I said, um” Yeah, it was like that. While I was dealing with Spider, the dizzy fuck, the pack came in, so I had to make good my escape, not realizing that I had bought a HUGE amount of PBRs and underestimated the size of the pack.

I took off around the corner running past Genos, where I toyed with the idea of giving them a Cheese steak Stop for a nanosecond ($9 a flippin cheese steak? Mincia!), so instead ran like the wind to the Triangle Tavern, thinking I was Oh So Clever by taking them into the parking lot across the street. As I came up to the bar, Ralphie, the Proprieter/owner, scared the hell out of me. He was on the phone with, of all people, Midnight Tranny, and nonchalantly said, “I guess you guys are here tonight, I got the guy wit da flowa right here.”

It didn’t matter, because like the best laid plans of mice and men, my oh so great idea of leaving lots of cash at Rays backfired, since it REALLY slowed the pack down. After a while they showed up. Want to have fun? Sit and watch a hash from the distance, knowing where they are supposed to go. It looks cute, really, like when your puppy chases a laser beam. They walked in COMPLAINING about too much beer at the first Beer Near. Bastards. I should have put up a False Beer Near right there to piss them off.

I started up, and found that Sausage had actually started heading back to the bar. There was brief moment of panic when she made eye contact with me, and I sprinted away like the hounds of hell were on my heels. Truth be told, she probably rolled her eyes and didn’t even bother. I ran back and started to run out of flour. Not having a rock to write with, I threw an ON IN down and made my way back to the bar. Thus endeth The Greatest Trail Ever. I am so awesome. I mean, seriously, can my head get any bigger? http://www.everytrail.com/view_trip.php?trip_id=1064691

CIRCLE:
HARE: He’s A Lesbian
FIRST IN/LAST IN : Son of a Goatfucker/Tube Cock
VIRGINS: Just Victor: Tube Cock made him come.
AUTOHASHERS: Seizure tits, Grab My Penis In My Ear, Tits of Steel, Virgin Pimp, Two Clump, Uncle Bad Touch, Big Tackle.
CUMS LATELYS: Bumble Beaver, Mr Snuffleuphermuff, Big Tackle, Virgin Pimp,

ACCUSATIONS:
Tube Cock: Being a raceist, AND having new shoes, which Scooby ripped right off his ass.
Virgin Pimp: Having a raceist shirt
One inch In, Where’s My Vagina, and Penis In My Ear for matchy matchy
S&M Man: For forgetting his own name
Tube Cock: tech on THE GREATEST TRAIL EVER and He’s a Lesbian for the “When one guy with a big assed watch drinks” rule.
Where’s My Vagina: For timing the beer check.
He’s A Lesbian: for putting just checks on the first mile of THE GREATEST TRAIL EVER.
Two Clump Chump: For missing Cause
Just Meg, Uncle Bad Touch, Soft Core Analyst and S&M Man: For doing something so heinous we can’t even mention it here. Actually, I’m sure it was great, but I can’t remember, and my notes are really fuzzy.
Two Clump Chump: For being too dressed up.
Rear Engineer and One Inch In: Just because
Just Victor: For looking thirsty (It was getting really bad)

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
NO MORE REAR TRAILS: YAY
MAY 12: Fruity Shorts Hash
JUNE 9: PROM PROM PROM PROM
And of course, Cousin It’s Tail Gate party, sometime this summer

OVERWRITTEN AT THE HASH: Couldn’t do overheard, but I found this lovely tidbit scrawled in my notebook:
“Lesbian unsheathed his saber he took from an Afghan and, placing it next to his penis, asked everyone, “Which is larger?”

When I first saw the announcement of the “Three In The Rear” weekend, I thought it was a great idea, and would be a lot of fun, but then again, I also had thought the same about invading Iraq back in 2003. Needless to say, both events turned out the same. Lots of innocent people killed, and a bunch of pussies, myself included, who just wanted to finish the damn thing and get it over with.
I arrived at the Rear Snatch residence at 3 pm and spent a good four hours looking for a parking spot. While gentrification has its strong points, finding parking makes one wish for the good old days when these guys were homesteading. I had just spent most of the day dealing with the absolute assholetry of both the Commonwealth of PA and the State of New Jersey and had had my chops busted online by Pisscycle, without a really good comeback, and was in no mood for anything.
I arrived to find that Rear, SDR, TCC, a few others, and myself were all wearing the same BFM T shirt and made the mistake of thinking it was cool. I would pay for this later, but read on.

WHO GOT CORNHOLED: Hold The Rimmer, Just Bonnie, He’s A Lesbian, Sternum and Rectum, Just Lauren, Two Clump Chump, Chernoblow, Just Dave, Tits of Steel, One Inch In, Swollen Cockpit, Post Anal Drip, Just Meghan, S&M Man, Can You Hear Me Now, Grab My Penis in My Ear, Cause For Flounder, Midnight Tranny, Where’s My Vagina, Skin Fiddle, Pisscycle, and of course, Rear Engineer.

After the obligatory meet and greet, punctuated by over a hundred ear piercing “OH MY GOD”s by Just Lauren (anyone else see a naming?), Rear briefed us on his plan, in his first attempt to Shock and Awe us into how cool this hash would be. The plan, like so many before it, was genius. It would be an A to B to C hash over the next three days, with each trail picking up where the other had ended. It sounded great on paper, and even cooler when they started handing out subway tokens.

THE TRAIL:
Off we ran down 18th then on to Wallace, then out to Broad St, where we all ran down into the Broad Street Line, and deposited our tokens. All of us crowded on to the platform, getting the normal raised eyebrows as we hovered near the entrance, lest one of our fair city’s not so desirable inhabitant decide to tune us up a tad. We piled on the Southbound train (Of course, even Rear isn’t dumb enough to take the trail to Broad and Lehigh, although that would be interesting and have the same results as his trail, namely 4-5 MIA hashers.

As we hit Lombard we spilled out and started looking for trail, finally finding one and then discovered that Rear ran our collective dicks into the dirt. Yes, I know, that not all of us are men, but have you seen some of our women? I am certain they have dicks bigger than mine (as does your average hamster), so I stand by my earlier phrase.

We ran out into old city, and up into Washington Square where we saw the infamous Moon Tree (so named because the Apollo astronauts took the seeds to the moon and rather than plant them there, tried Philly instead) Surprise, surprise, the tree was deader than my sex life.

Since there was a beer stop mentioned, as we got near each and every of our former beer stops and hash spots, we got excited, only to find that each and every time, Rear had dick teased us. We ran into Chinatown, and we didn’t even stop at Ding Bat’s house of happy ending massages, WTF! From there, down Arch to Market and around City Hall. I entertained some of the hashers with the useless knowledge in my head about the two statues on the North side of Dilworth Plaza (Generals Meade and Reynolds of Gettysburg fame). From there we ran across Love Park and started wondering if there was finally a beer stop at Westy’s, when the damn trail turned left again, and then around up 18th St to Logan Square.

At this point Grab My Penis In My Ear decided that they had enough fun, and like a pair of Congressmen, decided to bail on this little challenge. Somewhere or other, we started losing more hashers who were also saying, “enough of this shit” and were seriously considering an impromptu beer stop, when I noticed that we were Sausageless and used my piece of Tech on trail to call her, to find that she was at Rear’s house for a beer stop. We all ran there, and started sucking down beers, only to find out that this was only a beer stop and On In was at Flanagan’s on Spring Garden.

Just Meg decided to drive there, and since I am, by heart, a lazy bastard, and since my fun meter had been pegged, I decided to help her navigate the 5 blocks, which technically made us both auto hashers, oh well.

CIRCLE:
HARE: Rear Engineer
VIRGIN: Just Lauren, Sausage made her come (And she was quite proud of this)
AUTOHASHERS: Skin Fiddle and since they gave up on trail and took a car to the On In, He’s a Lesbian and Just Meghan, who chickened out.
CUMS LATELY: Post Anal Cockpit

ACCUSATIONS:
Just Lauren was violated for wearing a race shirt and Sausage had to drink for not briefing her virgin
Rear Engineer: For making someone do gardening
Just Bonnie: For doing Roller Derby on trail
Where’s My Vagina violated Penis In My Ear for “only sucking when it’s hot”
S&M Man violated Mediocre and Stupid for looking like Just Lauren, or was it vice versa?
He’s A Lesbian, Rear Engineer, Short Distance Rimmer, for having matching attire
Just Bonnie: for Not knowing it’s 80s night
Cause For Blindness: Having a dryer sheet sticking out of her shorts pocket
Penis In My Ear: for looking at Cause’s shorts
Where’s My Vagina: for Eating Fries
Pisscycle: Tech on trail
Hold the Sausage: For not educating her virgin

BIRTHDAYS: Both Tits of Steel and Pisscycle

OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“I Tried to dirty them up earlier” – Just Bonnie

“You had to put it in your mouth already?” -Just Bonnie to He’s A Lesbian
“There goes that fun” -Two Clump Chump, chiming in.

“I have to pee again” – Just Meg
“OH MY GOD, so do I! – Just Lauren

“I like to feel them up before anything because they start coming.” – Pisscycle

“I suck when it’s hot.” Penis In My Ear

It’s good but it’s gross” – Tits of Steel

“Wow, I discovered if you pull it really hard it comes out.” Tits of Steel, sharing WAY too much info.

EPILOGUE: I would have liked to say that Rear’s three-day hastravaganza ended awesomely and everyone discovered Jesus (He was mowing my neighbor’s lawn), but like the Hollow Men, it ended not with a bang but a whimper. The Philly Full Moon had a bare few, and a monotone Two Clump led circle, and the rain and the rumors of the Rear death runs almost killed the Saturday hash. One person, and one person only ran all three, drum roll please, and she had Tits of Steel. At least we thought she ran trail, since she looked like a drowned rat upon her arrival.

We got to the hash after the run was well under way, and I had hopes that since we were missing the run, I would not have to worry about doing the damn trash, but apparently it was spring break time, and Two Clump was out trying to convince some nubile young honeys down in Florida that A. He wasn’t gay, and B, was really over 21, appearances be damned. Aren’t you glad I’m back, folks?
Just Elizabeth and I walked up to the Raven as Penis In My Ear came running by with a bag of flour. I scared the hell out of both of them by yelling, “ON HARE”, and the poor wanker (PIME), did a Linda Blair spinning his head around, looking for someone. He ignored us completely. Had I been gone THAT long? I should have depantsed the bastard.
We walked in to the raven and I got the obligatory “welcome home, you asshole”s from the hashers there that remembered who I was. Sausage immediately drafted me in to writing the trash. Lucky me. It was tough this time, since about 50% of those there were unfamiliar faces. I HAD been gone that long.

WHO SHOWED: Rear Engineer, One Inch In, Tube Cock, Son of a Goatfucker, First Down, Bonzai Bush, Grab My Handlebars, Penis In My Ear, Hold The Sausage, Short Distance Rimmer, Uncle Bad Touch, Where’s My Vagina, Soft Core Analist, Just Lou, Tust Tabitha, Just Tara, Just Dave and Just Elizabeth. I’m sure there were more, but hey, when you are trying to drink PBR and write notes on people you don’t know, things get a tad dodgy.

THE TRAIL: Since I had spent the last year writing reports, I tried to ply my skills in order to find out what happened on trail. Apparently Grab My Handlebars and PIME were the hairs and let our hash on a merry little jaunt from the Raven, through the city in what was apparently the shortest run in the history of the BFM, barely even a mile. There were supposedly two beer stops (At Dirty Franks and Fox and the Hound) and the trail went to Broad Street, where, according to the second and third hand reports I got, there was also a beer stop at Deep Discunts, where, depending on who you talk to, either she blew everyone, or blew off the circle, I can’t decide. They all had a tea party, Rear shit diamonds, and everyone found Jesus. I believe it; he was restocking the bar at the Raven.

THE CIRCLE
To add insult to injury, they were serving the PBR in shotglasses. Not Pints, not cans, not even regular sized glasses. Seriously, WTF, I don’t want to sound like an old bastard, but when I first joined way back in 06, we drank out of pints, and since then, it has gotten wimpier and wimpier. Yet another sign of the ongoing pussification of America. Made me long for the Philly hash and that nasty ass horn. I mean we couldn’t even break into a chorus of “Why are we waiting…” W T F !!!!

HARES: Penis In My Ear, Grab My Handlebars
FIRST IN/LAST IN: Soft Core Analist / Uncle Bad Touch
VIRGINS: Just Tabitha & Just Tara: The letter S made them come. Someone did, but I forgot to ask who. Just Elizabeth, HAL made her come.
AUTOHASHERS: HAL and Just Elizabeth
CUMS LATELYS: HAL, 1st Down, and Just Dave
ACCUSATIONS: There were a bunch, and alas, I lost my notes, so they had something to do with a bunch of inside jokes that only a few of us would ever understand. I’m sure I was violated for something, and there was at least one “when one….drinks…” as well as a mention of some other problem.

With that, the hash went off in search of that infamous stripper pole, with Bonzai Bush leading the way. Two of the virgins got nicely hammered and of course some male hashers picked that moment to push the envelope on just how far on this side of the sexual assault section of the PA Crimes Code they could go. It wasn’t pretty, but there was the added benefit of one of the virgins bumming cigarettes outside the bar and loudly announcing to passersby about “how cool the hash is”. I will be surprised if we are allowed back inside the Raven for a year or so.

So I am really enjoying my election to mismanagement so much so that this week I get to enjoy being on-sec as well as RA. Therefore, you all get to enjoy my recounting of this week’s hash without a net, notes, or proper grasp of the English language. (I apologize in advance to all grammer freaks out there.

So allow me to recall who was there… ahhh

Sleeps Around the C*ck, H*ld the Sausage, Rear Eng*neer, Mr. Snuffleupam*ff, One *nch In, Tube C*ck, Seizure T*ts, Working G*rl, Uncle B*d Touch, Short D*stance Rimmer, Son of Goat F*cker, Where’s My Vag*na, H*-Hi, A new transplant from Okinawa, Dr. Squ*algood (eventually snuck in post-circle), Just Mike,  Just Dan, and Just Tom (I really have no idea, my bad.)

… If you were there but not up there (?), just accept it. This is what happens when on-secs are on vacation.

Trail:

So after we tore ourselves from some of the most amazing tater tots in Philly, the pack ventured out into a brisk Smarch night. The trail wound around and through the most r*pe-tastic alleys and historical parks of Old City eventually leading down into the underground tunnels of the city. Now, let me say it is not unheard of for the mob to travel underground in the subway system on occasion, however, this night we hit a record. We managed to travel all most full mile underground until the hare encountered the local underground law enforcement who, as usual, were not too happy about the idea of laying trail underground. So the pack was ejected back into the cold. Luckily, it was only about a two blocks away from the beer stop at the oldest ale house in the city. After Tube C*ck regaled us with a few stories of the second most popular Canadian past time of f*sting, the pack was on-in back to everyone’s favorite hipster basement to sneak some of dad’s PBR pounders and tater tots.

The Circle

Hares: Short Distance Rimmer

Virgins: Just Ray (?), Just Frank (?), Just Bill (?)… if you have a better guess what their names were, let me know…

Visitors: Something or another from Okinawa, welcome to the new transplant

First In/Last In: Son of a GoatF*cker / W*rking Girl… Seriously, he was. She decided to hold the door for himself and then got confused when he never walked through.

Comes Latelies: Ho-Hi

Autohashers: ahem… they disappeared before circle began.

Accusations:

Visitor… for escaping Japan

Uncle B*d Touch for letting everyone know that f*sting reminded him of grade school.

Tube C*ck, Visitor, Just Bob (?) for impersonating Where’s my Vagina

… this carried into a bunch of when one virgin drinks all virgins drink

Short D*stance Rimmer for getting more flour on his pants than on trail. But in his defense, he had to do a taste test for the police.

Rear Eng*neer for a false accusation. How could you expect a virgin to get a name right when veterans can barely remember another hashers name in the morning…

… There were some others but at this point, I would have to drink several PBR pounders and put on awkwardly tight jeans to remember…

Announcements:

Rear Engineer will be putting on a “3 In the Rear” hash in April 14/15/16.  Start limbering up now.

Overheard at the Hash:

Hasher 1: That reminds me of grade school

Hasher 2: F*sting reminds you of grade school.

On On

One *nch In

Well, before I get good and started on the trash, I think it’s only fair to warn you that I’ve given up swearing for Lent. This means none of the big seven, none of the words you’re not allowed to say on the radio, and no use of four-letter slang terms for the naughty bits. This will be hard, because I have just discovered a fabulous new epithet (“c*ntwaffle”) which I cannot use for the next month and a half. But I assure you, this will in no way affect the high quality of trash that you’ve come to expect. I will be replacing swear words in print in several ways. 1. Asterisks. 2. Madlibs.  3. Euphemisms. 4. Sex and violence. 5. French.

Right, now with that little caveat out of the way, here’s who showed up to this week’s nonsense:

Sleeps Around the C*ck, Hold the Sausage, Tw*t of Darkness, Midnight Tr*nny to G**rgia, Post An*l Drip, otherwise known as “Mrs. Swollen C*ckpit”, along with Swollen C*ckpit, who is otherwise known as “Mrs. Swollen C*ckpit”, Attila the H*ng, Likes the H*rd One, rear Eng*neer, G*g Reflex, H*rny H*nds, Wing N*tz, C*nting Season, Mr. Snuffleupam*ff, Mayor Q*imby, St*n, Softcore An*lyst, Two Cl*mp Chump, J*bal, One*nch In, Major Piece of *ss, Big T*ckle, S*M Man, T*ts of Steel, 3 B*alls, Working G*rl, Chern*blow, Just Ch*ryl, Deep Fl*te, Bee Org*, Not In My H*ir, Short D*stance R*mmer, Seizure T*Ts, Son of GoatF*cker, P*ss Cycle, Just Ry*an, Just Andr*a, Bumble B*aver, Little R*d Riding Wood, Cause for B******ness, Flo*nder, Pen*s in His Ear, Where’s My V*gina, Just Fr*nk,Dr. Squealg**d, and You’re Not My D*addy.

Hasher’s stood milling around, bewildered by the classy new changes at Bonner’s.  Paint that isn’t pus-colored?  Bathrooms that you don’t have to perform acrobatic maneuvers on the toilet to get the stall door to close? What’s the world coming to?  Disgusted, the pack emptied out onto the sidewalk to pay half-hearted attention to chalk talk before trotting off into the night.  Trail headed off in the direction one of those big ramps off of Market Steret, then down to the Schuykill River Trail.  After a nice long stretch of check-free trail and lots of complaining, the pack came upon a check near the Art Museum.  Surely it led down to the river? Up to the gazebo?  Definitely not across the Spring Garden Bridge, right? Right?? Nope, into Powelton Village with a lovely view of the train yards.  Nervous, the FRBs kept sprinting, even after announcing a Shot Near.  The more sensible and slower of us, however, had no trouble noticing Two Clump Chump in full Dollar Store Leprechaun regalia (glittery hat AND glittery vest.  Like Liberace.  Or Cher.)  Anyway, the pack ambled over and proceeded to slurp down carbombs as if the police were after them.

Which they were.  After managing to finish all the booze, the pack wobbled off to be met directly with a police van. (Here’s a completely unrelated aside: In my elevator at work there’s a notice that if you stay too late in the building and set off the alarm, The Police will be called.  I want to try it once, just to see if Sting and the boys really do show up. Anyway.)  After a brief reassurance that we weren’t actively engaged in criminal activity right at that moment (No thanks to the dude in the green hair who gleefully announced “We just committed a robbery!” Seriously, don’t ever do that again. Ever. Just let an adult-looking person talk to the police.) the pack continued through the Drexel campus, mildly befuddling the already seriously-toasted student body.  Trail wound south through Penn’s campus, across the lovely new South Street bridge, past a rather annoyed couple who were clearly trying to have a Romantic Moment on the bridge, and to Callahan’s for a beer check.  Except that they were out of beer. Well done. Annoyed, the pack stormed back to Bonner’s, intent on getting drunk.  But not singing karaoke. In place of karaoke this evening was a man who looked like a tow rope operator from Teaneck, New Jersey, gamely DJ’ing for a bunch of drunk college students in green grinding on each other. Oh well. The Mob wandered into the back room instead (still delightfully tacky, thanks to the wallpaper border), and commenced circle.

The Circle

Hares: Two Clump Chump, Bumble Beaver, You’re Not My Daddy

Virgins: Just J*hn, coutersy of P*ss Cycle (We also picked up two virgins on trail, and promptly scared them off)

Visitors: Gomez, You’re Not My Daddy, Bee Orgy

First In/Last In: 3 Balls, Cause

Comes Latelies: P*ss Cycle, Mayor Quimby, Little Red Riding Wood, Horny Hands, Deep Flute, Attila the Hung, Not in My Hair, Tw*t of Darkness

Autohashers: Bonsai Bush

Accusations:

Tw*t of Darkness, for holding Softcore Analyst’s loofa for his shower later

Chernoblow, for Japan

Not in My Hair for something r*cist

P*ss Cycle, for buying lip gloss before the hash

Working Girl, for wearing a dress and looking better than the ladies, per usuale

Mayor Quimby for wearing a holey shirt, which he blamed on the Hold the Sausage for the increasing price of hash cash.

Then a lot of ‘When One GM Drinks”

For Philly Hash’s Saturday hares, preemptively,

And a bunch of other stuff, but nothing that I felt like writing down legibly, apparently.

Announcements:

Muff has foot magnets. $3, or maybe you work out your own special deal, I don’t ask questions.

Rear Engineer will be putting on a “3 In the Rear” hash in April.  Start limbering up now.

Overheard at the Hash

Hasher 1: “Are the police pulling that car over?”

hasher 2: ‘No, they’re pulling us over.”

On On

The R*sh

The thing I like the most about writing the trash every week is… well actually I don’t like writing trash every week, for the love of beer please find one of the other On Secs, tie them up and drag them to the hash. I have resorted to writing this trash while proctoring the state assessment tests, which I am sure is a violation of some law. Lucky for me our illustrious Governor has cut the education budget, so no one is coming to check on me. Anyway about this week’s hash, the Institute is known for several things; good beer, good food, and lots of ghetto. A recent addition are the numerous galvanized pipes adorning everything from the taps to the bike rack, personally I think they are taking the whole institutionalized theme a bit too far.

Who Came
Can You Hear Me Now?, Hold the Sausage, Just Frank, Just Mary, Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, Short Distance Rimmer, Sleeps Around the C*ck, Sly Fox, Softcore Analyst, Three Balls, Tits of Steel, Two Clump Chump, Where’s my Vagina, and Working Girl

Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these half minds from the hash. Once in my life I ran a trail during a rainstorm that was so bad, the flower was washed away; fortunately this trail was not like that.

The Trail
The straws were drawn and Just Mary drew the lucky (or in her case unlucky) straw. She opted to take on a co-hare, so Where’s my vagina eagerly stepped up. Hold the Sausage distributed the flower, with one decree “it better be quick”. Now I am not sure if that comment was directed to the hares or Short Distance Rimmer, because they both seemed happy to hear it, but considering the weather it was an understandable statement. After a few minutes the hash headed out side for a fast chalk talk, and then the pack was under way. A block into trail, the rain started to pick up and we feared the worst; however, we pressed on and much to our elation the weather never really worsened. We wound our way south, then west than north. A creative false led us farther west until finally returning to the on in. As promised the trail was quick and easy, like many of you on your first dates. After the pack was done filtering in we headed upstairs for…

Circle
We learned the true reason for our GM’s motives when we setup for circle, as a DJ was also setting up alongside us. We formed our circle in between a large speaker and a trash can collecting rain water that was dripping from a tarp, suspended from the ceiling (those of you who were expecting a Tsunami joke somewhere in there should know that even I have my limits, if only He’s a Lesbian where here).

Hares: Where’s my Vagina, Just Mary
Virgins: None
Visitors: None
First in/ Last in: Short Distance Rimmer/ Three Balls
Cums Lately: Three Balls
Auto Hashers: Hold the Sausage, Scooby Snatch, Sleeps Around the Cock

Accusations
Rear, Rimmer, Soft Core for being twins (which should have been a false accusation since there were three of them)
Sly Fox for stealing Scooby’s friend
CYHMN for looking thirsty
Working Girl for pulling out early (he is leaving the military)
Just Frank for tech on trail (he stopped at an ATM, but didn’t buy us any beer)
Just Mary for not knowing what she did was called Haring
Scooby for ordering the cheese platter, which apparently no one does because they didn’t know how to make it
Short Distance Rimmer for confusing Just Frank with White Trash
Sly Fox for stating that all blacks look alike while standing in between J Frank and Working Girl
Working Girl for sharing his cup and giving out herpes
Softcore for showering on trail

Announcements
Philly Hash: You missed it and it was awesome
Green Dress is this weekend!
April is three in the Rear, stay tuned
After circle we waited patiently for the DJ to come on, that never happened so after some food and more drink the hash fizzled out.

Over Heard at the Hash
Rear Engineer “It didn’t penetrate, but I did feel a poke”

On, on,
Two Clump Chump

As I walked into Cavanaugh’s in University City I was preparing myself for a crazy time, and sure enough Cavanaugh’s came through, but more on that later. Our GM walked the crowed distributing straws, and after about three rounds our illustrious RA Rear Engineer drew the short straw. With the eagerness of a freshman at his first sorority party, Tube C*ck offered to co-hare. With this mess out of the way the pack was ready for a chilly chalk talk.

Who Came:
Broken Rod, Cunting Season, Dr. Squeal Good, Grab My Handlebars, Hold the Sausage, Sternum and Rectum, Just Bonnie, Just Frank, Midnight Tranny to GA, Nappy Headed Ho, One Inch In, Pen is in my Ear, Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, Short Distance Rimmer, Skin Fiddle, Sleeps Around the C*ck, Softcore Analyst, Son of Goat Fucker, Stacks,Twinkle Toe Hoe, Tits of Steel, Tube C*ck, Two Clump Chump, Uncle Bad Touch, Up Her Ali, Who Hi, and Working Girl

The Trail:
Ever so often a trail comes along that defines the soul of hashing, this trail was not one of them. The pack ran off in all directions only to find falses and reconvene back at the start. After much milling about we traveled south on 38th through a construction site where we stumbled upon our next check. After several more falses we were again on our way through the quad. The trail continued much like this until we ran through the scary muggers pond and back to where we started from. Could it be two of our more veteran hashers crossed their own trail? The mysteries of University City will do that to even the best trail layers. But fear not, like true half-minds they fixed their mistake by moving the old trail and continuing on. Luckily for the pack a little birdie knew (or thought she did) where the beer check was, so off to Sternum and Rectum’s house we went. After drinking cheap beer and complaining about the cold we returned to the bar. I would be remiss if I did not point out the boob check at the infamous corner where “fake” Cause was arrested for indecent exposure a few years back (I know what you are thinking, isn’t any exposure by Cause indecent?). Back at the bar Pen is in my Ear leered at the Jagermeister Girls as they got changed, while we gathered around in our special room for…

Circle:
Before I jump right into this I thought I should point out that tonight’s hash was an RA double header. We had an RA trail and an RA circle, and both were sh*tty. One Inch In is not quite ready to turn in his water wings, needless to say circle was a little non-traditional. Now not that I am complaining (I don’t think I have had this much fun laughing at someone else’s misfortune since Charley Sheen went crazy), but being that we are all half minds it took some getting used to. After a while I think he was purposely messing up, just to see if Up Her Ali would wet herself from laughing so hard.

Hares:Rear, Tube C*ck
Virgins: None
Visitors: Who Hi from Guam
First in/ Last in: Two Clump/ Working Girl
Cums Lately: Twinkle Toe Hoe
Auto Hashers: Up Her Ali, Grab My Handlebars, Broken Rod, Pen is in my Ear, Short Distance Rimmer, and Hold the Sausage, Sternum and Rectum

Accusations:
Uncle Bad Touch for forgetting his hash name
The Hares for trying to avoid crossing trail by changing the old trail
One Inch In for whining in circle, and messing up every song
Uncle Bad Touch for not following women to the beer
Handlebars false accusation against Softcore for not wearing enough clothes
Softcore for almost making a girl cum
Cunting Season for stealing Sternum’s water
Twinkle Toe, Tube C*ck, and Tits of Steel for R*cing

Announcements:
Philly Hash: You missed it and it was awesome
Green Dress is cuming soon
April is three in the Rear, stay tuned
After circle we moved the party upstairs for food, drinks and dance club? That’s right Cavanaugh’s is now UC’s hottest Thursday night dance club complete with DJ and light show. We took this opportunity to tear up the dance floor (we were the only dancers), and make fun of the 21 year old girls in mini-skirts and halter tops. Ok I was gawking (after confirming they weren’t students of mine) but Just Bonnie was poking most of the fun. After several hours too many beers and not enough good music the night came to an end.

Over Heard at the Hash
UKH “There is no way that girl is of age.”
Uncle Bad Touch “Two words: Plausible deniability.”

On, on,
Two Clump Chump

As I circled the blocks looking for a place to park I noticed the friendly sight of hashers converging on our favorite north Fairmount bar Krupas.

Who Came:
Bonsi Bush, Can You Hear Me Now?, Cause for Blindness, Cunting Season, Fire Down Under, Flounder, Grab My Handlebars, Hold the Sausage, Just Bonnie, Just Frank, Just Lesley, Midnight Tranny to GA, Nappy Headed Ho, Pen is in my Ear, Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, Shefeltafish, Short Distance Rimmer, Skin Fiddle, Softcore Analyst, Son of Goat Fucker, Stacks, The Rash, Tickle My Elmo, Tits of Steel, Tube C*ck, Two Clump Chump, Uncle Bad Touch, Where’s My Vagina?, and Working Girl

The Trail:
Soon after entering the bar our new GM was fast at distributing the straws, and none other than our Grab My Handlebars drew the famed short straw. Eager to sharpen her trail laying skills she opted to take a more veteran co-hare. After setting up the marks, Handle Bars and Rear Engineer were off. The trail went off west with a creative back check over the train track bridge and through the woods. After a few miss-marks by the art museum I caught the hares at the base of the steps. I recruited Rear to continue trail with me and off we went. We heading south then east towards 15th, and finally north again. We headed north to the beer check and stood and waited for what seemed like ten minutes. Convinced the pack gave up we walked into a dark and repainted Westy’s and ordered to Lagers. A few minutes later the pack rolled in complaining about missing marks, come on people it’s called checking, look into it. We drank and joked and then returned into the night. The trail home wound through various parking lots and side streets until we returned to the safety of the on in. Alas the story does not stop here, for as we relaxed from the rigorous trail we noticed a figure off in the distance stumbling towards us. As the figure approached we noticed it was an inebriated young co-ed who clearly needed more alcohol. As she fell into the bar we followed for…

Circle

Hares: Handlebars, Rear, and 2 Clump
Virgins: Just Lesley by Nappy, Just Bonnie by Cunting Season, Just Frank by Pen is in my Ear
Visitors: None
First in/ Last in: Cunting Season/ CYHMN
Cums Lately: Skin Fiddle, Nappy Headed Ho
Auto Hashers: Bonsai Bush, Skin Fiddle, Shefeltafish, Short Distance Rimmer, Hold the Sausage, and Scoobie Snatch

Accusations:
Cause for Blindness for picking up a used condom on trail and blowing it up
Midnight Tranny to Georga for making the virgin wet without her permission
Pen is in my Ear for a false accusation about Tits of Steel and trying to drink from the pitcher
Pen and Just Frank for racing on trail and under when one virgin drinks Just Lesley, Just Bonnie
Handlebars and Rear for getting caught
Bonsai for passing up on free beer
Skinfiddle for housing Anibirds in his beard
Rimmer for inventing Anibirds
Rear, Tubec*ck and Softcore for “Matchy Matchy”
Pen for using the phrase “Matchy Matchy”
Nappy (in the spirit of GDO and her infamous accusation) for missing Just Lesley’s face and hitting her, well you know what
Son of Goat F*cker accused himself because he was thirsty
Finally it was time for everyone’s favorite event, side side. The orange clad Where’s My Vaginia was hoisted for her tribute.

Announcements
Philly Hash: You missed it and it was awesome
Green Dress is cuming soon
April is three in the Rear, stay tuned
After the close of circle the pack returned to the main bar to continue imbibing. What happened to the drunk girl from before you might ask. Well after doing a few shots, she was asked to leave the bar for being a Visibly Intoxicated Person. She picked up her things and stormed, I mean stumbled out of the bar. After we were done laughing, we started to feel bad for letting this girl walk home alone in this state, but don’t worry I checked the news the following day, and I am fairly sure she made it home in one piece.

Over Heard at the Hash
UKH “Look at that girl, she is wasted.”
Two Clump “What if she is not drunk, what if she is a zombie?”
UKH “Brains!”

On, on,
Two Clump Chump

The last few weeks have been very trying for me in the realm of parking, but at least I’m not the only one. Anyway, I set out to arrive at the super-secret 7pm Mismanagement meeting; however, 35 minutes looking for a parking spot caused me to show up just in time to miss it. That being said I was not the grumpiest person in the basement of The Black Sheep that night.
Now there are two things that I have found are inevitable as an on-sec: First is that you will try and convince some new virgin that writing down their phone number is a necessary part of the job, and two is that you will lose your hash notes. Unfortunately for yours truly, I am better at the later.

Who Came:
Bee Orgy, Bonsai Bush, Can You Hear Me Now?, Chernoblow, Just Dave, Just Jennifer, Midnight Tranny to GA, Mr. Snuffleupamuff, Not in the Hair (not to be confused with Nut in the hare, he doesn’t exist), Rear Engineer, Scooby Snatch, Softcore Analyst, STD, Tickle My Elmo, Tits of Steel, Tube Cock, Two Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Where’s My Vagina?, and many more

The Trail:
We left our stuff in the capable hands of our private bartender and headed to the curb for some chalk talk. The marks were explained and off we went in search of our dual hares. The trail went north towards the Museum which holds a special place in our hearts. We crossed through Logan Circle and up towards Westy’s. Alas no luck as we were fooled again, so easterly we went. We cut through a scary rape alley where allegedly a strange little man was lurking, but I didn’t see anything. Down through china town where I pointed out the problem with running trail through china town: wait for it…you want more trail an hour later. We made a turn south and then through a brave (stupid) maneuver, we ran through the Greyhound bus lot and terminal. Trail continued towards CC where we found our favorite mark, BN, outside of McGillans. After a quick check the hare took off, but we were not properly timed and took off not much later. A few block into the trip home Scooby spotted the hare and the two of us took off. We caught the hare a few blocks from the bar and proceeded to fight over who would be stuck finishing the trail (don’t worry it wasn’t a typical Scooby fight). He grabbed the bag and began throwing the flower at me instead of the ground, but enough about me on to…

Circle
Hares: Up Her Ali, STD
Virgins: There were two but they didn’t wake up in my bed so I don’t remember their names (not that I would have if they woke up in my bed)
Visitors: Probably
First in/ Last in: Can I say E and Cause, oh wait neither of them where there
Cums Lately: There were several and they are all bad people
Auto Hashers: Bonsai Bush

Accusations:
There were many and they were all very funny, but I can’t remember except that we did accuse someone in honor of Just John from Glenside to which we learned his new song.

Announcements:
Full Moon (You missed it and it was awesome)
Philly Hash “ “
Green Dress is cumming soon
April is three in the Rear, stay tunned

After the close of circle the bartender announced that the lower bar was closing, we asked where we should go, and he replied how about leaving. We apologized for spending money in his bar, he went on to complain about having to watch our bags and using him as a locker room. We left and went to good dog where we spent more money, drank more beer, and Scooby got into more fights. After learning how to do the Dougie, it was time to call it a night.

Over Heard at the Hash:

Scooby “How is it going?”
Cop “I don’t know, you are the one running through a bus station.”

On, on,

Two Clump Chump