Initially, I was overjoyed. Finally, I could show up, semi on time for the hash and NOT drive around for three hours looking for a parking spot. I had been trying to get my cousin (A Sergeant in the 3rd District) to join us for a while, and this time he had no excuse. That is until he said, “You know that’s a Pagan hangout, right?” Um, no, I didn’t and having been outside the country for a flippin year I could have cared less. I had more pressing concerns, like where I could get good internet porn and bootleg copies of movies that didn’t have a shadow of a theatre go-er standing up and the subtitles were NOT in Cyrillic. No matter, this place had a parking spot, and since I wasn’t going to make Prom (I had to wash my hair), this might be my last hurrah for a bit. So, I cruised up Passyunk and pulled right in, happy as a clam.

Imagine my surprise at the large number of hashers from the Philly Hash who showed up. Probably because the Triangle has been the host to many a Philly Hash (and BFM). And the bar has been renovated, it almost looks respectable. Although I miss the safety rails they used to have there to separate the 1-foot high deck. Sigh, life changes. One thing didn’t, and that was the clientele inside. I walked in and was greeted by a woman who sounded like one of Marge Simpson’s sisters. She’s been smoking for years, and caution be damned, but her lung is great. She had been hacking, er I mean talking up Just Randy who had shown up for the Hash at 6:30 PM. Yes, you read right. Hmm, Cums Early sounds like a good hash name for him.

SHAPELY HASHERS: Hold The Sausage, Just Meg, Short Distance Rimmer, Working Girl, Sleeps Around The Cock, Just Randy, Sternum And Rectum, Flipper Over, Just Lauren, Dry Hump, Teflon, 3 Balls, Son Of A Goatfucker, Hoo High, Just Sue, Just Victor, Just Dayna, Twinkle Toe Ho, Soft Core Analyst, Tits of Steel, Where’s My Vagina, Just Dave, Can You Hear Me Now, He’s A Lesbian, Grab My Handlebars, Penis In My Ear, Just Stacy, and Two Clump Chump

Sausage handed out straws and 3 Balls proudly snatched the shorty. A groan filled the room of those knowing hashers because…

TRAIL:
A 3 Balls trail has a lot of traditions, First, it is usually just shy of a Bataan Death March, and Second, you really need to try to find it. This one was no exception. Off we ran, West on Reed, even taking the side Reed, and straight across Broad St into the Point Breeze section. Now for those uninitiated to the city, Point Breeze is a area where you play Good Block Bad Block, and Bad Block usually wins. At a certain point, trail just stopped, we all assumed that 3 Balls realized exactly how far he strayed into Bad Block, and since he lives on a farm, the “inner city” landscape made his white ass forget to put in an X.

After about 20 minutes of looking, (Which is about 19 minutes and 30 seconds longer than the attention span of our group), someone found trail and we ran South down Broad. Near Dickinson, we found an F facing the wrong direction, and ran down Carlisle and discovered a huge explosion of Flour had taken place 15th & Tasker. At first we thought that one of the wildly careening cars driven by nonlicensed drivers had smacked poor 3 Balls, but there were no blood stains, only a HUGE pile of flour, so we CSIed that 3 Balls must have dropped the bag. Turns out that Sausage STILL has not fixed her damn hole and we were right. Someone suggested they taste it to make sure it was flour, (The powder, not her hole, you sick bastard) but since it could have been coke, we didn’t. The last person to do something like that turned bald and fat and thought he was funny.

We ran back down Broad again, and lost Trail at Broad and Passyunk. For some reason Can You Hear Me Now ran NORTH on Broad, screaming “On On” only to be briefed that we had already found that trail and had in fact run down it no more than 5 min before. In a fit of exasperation, Hoo High ran further down Broad and couldn’t find anything except a subway, and even though she had a suspicion the trail MIGHT go down there, being the good Government Worker that she is, kept that tidbit to herself, much like an INS agent stamping Mohammed Atta’s VISA request so he can attend flight school.

So we stood around trying to figure out what to do for about what seemed like hours (it was 5 min), and we headed up Passyunk back to the Triangle. S&M Man led a bunch into the Adobe to either check for green cards or an impromptu beer check, I don’t know. We arrived back at the Triangle in what is almost tied for the SHORTEST TRAIL EVER (1.64 mi), to find 3 Balls. When he found out we didn’t finish his trail, a sad look crossed his face, like a kid who opens a Christmas present to find clothes, and he ran back to find lost hashers, assuming that we were too stupid to remember how to get back. (actually this decision of his could be based on sound judgment, but I digress). Interestingly enough, the trail we did run turned out to BE the shape of a Triangle, woohoo. http://www.everytrail.com/view_trip.php?trip_id=1121506

The bartender at the Triangle was REALLY happy to see us and actually set up a spread of food, which looked like almost like a Trailer Park Wedding Buffet….Hot dogs, baby carrots, hoagies, oh my. We chowed down on health food, and since Where’s My Vagina was looking for herself, I used my combat tested command presence to tell Hoo High to collect hash cash for no other reason than she was closest and made the mistake of making eye contact with me. When I told her to get hash Cash, she gave me that loving look a woman gives, when you throw them in your basement freezer.

Finally, 3 Balls came wandering back, accompanied by the remainder of the hashers, including Soft Core Analyst who swore he was on trail, even though his heartbeat was surprisingly calm, despite me feeling him up. Perv. Two Clump also snuck in, wearing a shirt and tie and quickly left when one of the Bikers said he looked like a Fed. Flipper Over then got nauseous because Marge’s Sister breathed on her and gave her secondhand lung cancer and had to leave, with Just Lauren escorting her out, saying they were going to watch “Vampires Kiss “ and “A League of Their Own” together. (Yep, time to start THAT rumor) The beers were poured a quarter way into the 8 oz sized cups (yet another sign of the pussification of the BFM) and we started a rather shapeless…

CIRCLE:
HARES: 3 Balls
VIRGINS: Just Dayna (Twinkle Toe Ho made her come)
VISITOR: Teflon (Since he moved to Albuquerque )
FIRST IN/LAST IN: Just Matt / Working Girl (Happens when he doesn’t wear pumps)
CUMS LATELYS: Dry Hump, Twinkle Toe Ho, Son Of A Goatfucker, Working Girl, and 3 Balls
AUTO HASHERS: Just Meghan, Two Clump (who snuck out) Where’s My Vagina (Who really looked forlorn that she couldn’t do Hash Cash due to her tardiness) and just Sue
BIRTHDAY SIDE SIDE: Just Meghan and Son of A Goatfucker

VIOLATIONS:
Tits of Steel and Just Meghan: For something unreadable
Just Meg: For falling down stairs (“alone or in pairs”) in a strange house trying to do the walk of shame (At least that’s my assumption, and I could be wrong, and frequently am)
3 Balls: For Biffing and leaving a chalk outline of himself
Penis In My Ear: For beer poaching (I’m sorry, but isn’t this acceptable?
Just Randy: For coming an hour early
Son Of A Goatfucker: For bumping into a 7-foot high ceiling fan.
Soft Core Analyst: For showering at S&M Man’s house (and not inviting him and Cleavage to join in)
Dry Hump and Grab My Handlebars: Just because.

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
June 9th: PROM PROM PROM PROM
May 2012: Bay To Breakers
THIS SUMMER: The everyone EXCEPT Cousin It‘s Tailgate Party
PHILLY HASH has moved to Tuesdays

With that, the circle closed and I got a text message from my cousin asking how many members of the __ were in the bar. I then noticed the red diamond on a the chests of a few members (1 %ers) and since I had to be up at 0400 anyway, I decided it would be a good time to leave. I got in my truck and my cousin scared the shit out of me by smacking on the driver side window, “You stupid fuck! I told you the bar’s under surveillance!” I replied that no, he had merely said it was a Pagan hangout and I didn’t see any Pagans, only __. I was then given an impromptu lecture on the motorcycle gang hyarchy in the Philadelphia area. Now these guys aren’t very violent compared to a North Philly gang, I’m sure there’s no problem there, but here’s a word of advice. When the cop member of your hash, who is notorious for staying till the last second at a hash trying to put the moves on any female hasher who smiles at him, gets a text message and suddenly is one of the first to leave, you might want to look around. It was OK, however, no one was hurt, but if anyone has seen Two-Clump….

OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“Random Woman, Walking Teddy Bear in Stroller.” – Just Lauren, reacting to South Philly

“Lesbian did something wrong, so keep it in your bra.” – Hold the Sausage to Where’s My Vagina

“I’ve been smoking for 30 years and my lung feels great. Hey, where ya’s goin, honey? Commere” Marge’s Sister to Flipper Over

Yes, the news is full of a strange mathematical prediction that has the world ending on Saturday, 21 May sometime during the day. Not wanting to miss a deadline and get the last word in, I better get this trash done NOW. Yes, we’ve all had our scares of events causing the world to end; Y2K, 9/11, Cause and Flounder hooking up, HAL getting laid, Bin Laden being finally caught, and now the possible Rapture. And while we all laugh at it, part of us, deep down inside, asks, “Holy shit, what if they’re RIGHT?” Boy, will we look embarrassed.

The damn hash was being held within 24 hours of Philadelphia actually experiencing a flippin Tornado, and at a bar that had previously thrown us out. Apparently, according to whispers, there is actually a Bad list of places we are NEVER to go to, and McKenna’s is on there. So, I drove the black beast all through Fairmount, arriving a half hour early and spending the next thirty minutes driving around looking for a flippin parking spot. There was a reason I left that neighborhood. I walked in to see Skin Fiddle already there, talking about bracketing a woman walking in the same direction. In yet another sign of the approaching apocalypse, STACKS was there as well. But, with the overwhelming smell of good weed there, at least we would be raptured happy, but hungry.

FINAL HASHERS?: Hold The Sausage, Just Meg, Short Distance Rimmer, Where’s My Vagina, Just Eliza, Just Dave, Can You Hear Me Now, He’s A Lesbian, Doctor Squealgood, Grab My Handlebars, Penis In My Ear, One Inch In, Skin Fiddle, Stacks, Just Matt, Just Mary, Just Stacy, Just Brad, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Two Clump Chump, Just Brian, and Just Angela

Sausage handed out straws and Just Mary ended up getting the shorty. Since she’s new and didn’t know the neighborhood, Where’s My Vagina decided to help out, and off they ran into the rain.

TRAIL:
After a brief instruction by One Inch In, off we went, down 24th St, turning and running halfway up Aspen, and then back down again as someone found the trail heading off in the other direction. During this time, Two Clump and PIME entertained themselves by shaking each and every tree they ran by, thus dousing whoever ran underneath it.
We ran down Aspen and up 27th to my old neighborhood, where Joe, the bartender at Krupas, saw us coming and squealed with delight, thinking we’d be in to drink his beer and fill his pockets. Sadly it was an unlabeled False Beer Near. The look he gave us was reminiscent of my old dog’s face when I would leave for work, so very sad. Now, having hashed in Fairmount before, I should have remembered that when you head in this direction, there is only one place to go, and I should have torn off down in the doggy park and chased down our hares as they neared the Art Museum., but NOOOOOOO, I decided to only do the quick shortcut over the foot bridge crossing the railroad tracks, into a darkened Fairmount Park, and up the back side of the art museum. The vicious two then set the trail up that damn hill near the gazebo overlooking the waterworks and across the little footbridge and then back down the hill. My fat ass hit terminal velocity and I zoomed passed Just Dave, who looked really scared that I would crash into him.

We ran under the Spring Garden bridge, near where gay guys used to meet before they paved the trail (Don’t ask how I know this, lets just say that I had a very weird day mountain biking there back in 96), and up, hugging the Ben Franklin Parkway towards 22nd Street. I was so sure they were headed to the Cherry Street Tavern, I veered off course and completely forgot about Flanagan’s, until I saw the pack headed North instead of South. So, I joined them and we wound up in Flanagan’s for the beer stop. While we sat and BSed, we found out that McKenna’s was having Quizzo that night. Our initial plan was to head back there, and since we have a trove of experts in useless knowledge (Skin Fiddle, Myself, Rimmer, Sausage spring to mind), we would RULE there.

No such luck.

The hares tried to lay a nice trail heading in the wrong direction, but I immediately ran straight up the Parkway, up 24th and back to the bar. The rest of the pack arrived a few minutes later in the side door, which apparently confused Just Meg, who showed she was a great political aid by asking where the hell she was. (Oh and she also know about Aaaahnold’s love child either. Nice.) Quizzo was going on, and we interrupted it by forming a bucket brigade of beer glass carriers since McKenna’s ran out of pitchers. After a while, we were wondering when exactly we would start circle. Stacks got tired of waiting and snuck out. According to One Inch In, the game was still going on, and he had to wait to start the circle because he was being polite. POLITE?!?! WTF! Sounds like a case of Pussyitis to me. Check your urine, is it pink? Finally, right before sunrise it was time for….

CIRCLE:
HARES: Just Mary, Where’s My Vagina (With He’s A Lesbian as a Designated Drinker for WMV)
VIRGINS: Just Brad, (Just Stacy made him come), Just Angela and Just Brian (Just Meg made them both come)
FIRST IN/LAST IN: He’s A Lesbian / Penis In My Ear
CUMS LATELYS: Just Frank
HAT:
AUTO HASHERS: Skin Fiddle, Just Angela, and Just Brian
BIRTHDAY SIDE SIDE: One Inch In

VIOLATIONS:
Where’s My Vagina for not being there to drink, and Just Mary under the “When one Hare drinks” rule
Just Meg: For telling Just Angela NOT to give the option, no matter how badly we beg
Penis In My Ear and Two Clump Chump: For getting the female hashers wet the WRONG Way
Two Clump, PIME, and Hold the Sausage: For Matchy Matchy
The Virgins: Because we had way too much beer and needed to get rid of it.

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
Full Moon H3: Fri May 20th at the bar formerly known as TA Flannerys
June 9th: PROM PROM PROM PROM

With that, the hash went out and Up Her Ali showed up with Clifford the Big Red Dog. All the females there, squealed “Oh a puppy” and went to pet it. Sadly, the dog was nervous, as if he sensed something that might happen soon. No matter, on Saturday we all we-

OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“I did the hare.” –Tranny
“Wouldn’t your fiancé get upset with that?” –Rimmer
“DIG! DIG!” –Tranny

“Are We on something?” – Sausage

“People assume that if you have a dog that you know where you are.” –Rimmer

“I have ultraviolet shit on my cock”- One Inch In

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