BFM #9
Posted on April 22, 2004
22 April 04: The mob piled tonight into Doobies, 22nd and Lombard, a venerable neighborhood dive in Philadelphia’s Fitler Square section. Upon entering one immediately saw Bastard Child, dutifully manning the bar (from the drinkers’ side).
To the bar’s misfortune, also present were Lunar Digit, fresh back from the slopes of Bamf, and Scooby Snatch, wearing a Snapple logo t-Shirt but which didn’t say Snapple – it said "Snatch," which recalls the Dunkin Donuts bumper sticker that says, "Fuckin’ Donuts," and the Burger King t-shirt that says, "Murder King."
It was a t-shirt kind of night. Sarah Cunter showed up with a t- shirt that said, "Vaginas Are Way Cool," which, one might say, is like a t-shirt that says, "The Sky Is Blue." Your correspondent stumbled in with a t-shirt sporting a giant FU finger and which said, "Can You Hear Me Now?"
Wing Nuts was there, too, apparently to recover articles of clothing he had left in Little Fucking Winky’s apartment. The story is he left them there the night of the Full Moon 69. (On this night, the BFM 9, he did the Ben Franklin Mob a grave dishonor by running trail.) And STD also appeared, softly influencing the mob with her calming yet rowdy charms. Making the rendezvous just in time, Purrier put in a rare and welcomed appearance.
Last week, at BFM 8, Winky drew the first straw, and it was the short one. This week Winky drew the second straw, and it was the short one. (Later, it was rumored, he undid his fly, and it was a short one.) And so Herr Vinky once again was the hare and, with bag o’ flour in hand, made a hasty exit.
Fitler Square’s loaded with alleys, and LFW trailed flour though most of them. The trail then broke out into the River Park, past a still playground, and onto the new paved path along the Schuylkill River. Mobbers may recall that in the past Winky has laid false trail into subway concourses (as well as sheep). Tonight he reversed the trick and laid true trail up three flights of stairs from the bike path, across the width of the bridge above, and right back down to the bike path from the bridge stairs on the other side. Once again your correspondent fell for it. Dat bastid.
Instead of taking the mob into University City, Winky went east back into Rittenhouse, through Rittenhouse Square, in and among the bench- sitting swells, and past the busy sidewalk cafes. Though nobody knew it at the time, Sly Fox was otherwise occupied at a bar right off the Square, but she didn’t hear any "on ons" despite keeping an ear out. In the Square, your correspondent did shout "on on," and some chickee walking with her young daughter turned with a giant grin and said, "all right!" No doubt a hasher in a former life.
ack at Doobies, the auto hash contingent was particularly large, and included such notorious characters as Self Service, fresh back from a tour of the great American Southlands, Tastes Like Chicken, and the Mad Max of auto hashing, Cause for Blindness. For some reason, Cause’s blouse was tucked in tight tonight, though nobody seemed to mind.
Winky convened the circle inside the bar since taking whole pitchers outside might have led to arrests. Wing Nuts did down downs for being a BFM virgin and following trail that was laid either last week by Winky or the week before by Sarah Cunter. Renaming a hasher is frowned on, so Winky renamed My Damn Butterfly. Suggesting that MDB resembles Waldo of "Where’s Waldo" fame, Winky dubbed him "Waldo’s Dildo," a name which brings to mind images that just ain’t right. To memorialize the renaming, Winky sprinkled flour on Waldo’s groinal region, and Cause for Blindness said, "I’m on trail!"
The second naming of the evening went to Just Bob, who the mob got to know last week during karaoke at Bonner’s, where he played a mean air fiddle while singing "The Devil Went Down To Georgia." Continuing tonight’s phallic naming theme, Winky named him, "Skin Fiddle," which, again, brings to mind images that just ain’t right. Yee hah.
Other stuff happened, but I’m out of words. Shitty little fucking trail, shitty bar.
On on.
PS: Some wankers may recall the mob ran into Derf last week. Derf is someone who hashed long ago and far away. But Derf’s true identity and address are now known. The mob is, therefore, depositing a BFM shirt for him anonymously and without explanation at his place of residence, leaving him to wonder, "what the F***?" Any contribution toward the shirt would be greatly appreciated. Just a dollar will do – we need seven more. Thanks!
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