BFM #19
Posted on July 1, 2004
1 July 2004: Tonight’s trail started at the Cherry Street Tavern, 22nd & Cherry Streets, near the Ben Franklin Parkway. The mob was happy to see the return of Cousin It, who made his BFM debut at the Commando Run. Mr. and Mrs. outgoing-Full-Moon-GM also showed. (No doubt you already know, but this upcoming Friday is Strap On’s last full moon as GM, a sorrowful occasion that should be attended by all. Plus, if you didn’t get one, the t-shirts are very nice, and you can even wear them in the real world without offending anyone, except, perhaps, Werewolf-Americans).
Drag Queen showed, though not in drag, but he brought another dude named Just Brian. Tickle My Elmo returned, fulfilling the red head quota for the evening. Also there was Rash, who became responsible for the hash cash, which seemed right. Some referred to her as the First Rash-ional Bank (not to be confused with Rational). All the guys kept their eyes on her, perhaps to make sure she didn’t abscond with the cash? Other bastids were there – and you know who you were, if your addled brains can remember, y’bastids.
Someone brought a brand new tennis ball to mark trail, but, this being the BFM, nobody brought flour. Ever-the-trooper, however, Bastard Child went out and scavenged a five-pound bag. Bastard Child also took over Sarah Cunter’s role as the straw-giver; he filched mixing straws from the bar and gnawed one into a stump of its former self. The hare was selected in a nail biter with only two straws remaining.
As it so happened, yellow carpenter’s chalk was on hand. When flour is mixed with yellow carpenter’s chalk, flour takes on a friendly, unthreatening off-yellow cast. When applied to the pavement with a tennis ball, it makes a friendly little circle, like a smiley face without the eyes and mouth.
And what did the hare do with his tennis ball and his friendly yellow flour? He made friendly little circles around the regional United States Postal Center at 30th and Market Streets, getting the postal cops out and antsy as the mob ran by. And the hare made friendly little circles on the plaza in front of Philadelphia City Hall, drawing a keen eye from the security forces as the mob ran by. The hare also made friendly little circles next to the Criminal Justice Center, where Wolfman Jackoff recently had fun with justice.
The hare had other uses for the flour. He wrote “BN” near Bonner’s, a popular BFM haunt, causing mobbers to infest the location, in search of a surprise beer check. But the bartender had no idea what we were after: it was a false beer check. Later on, the hare also drew a giant arrow pointing away from City Hall, sending the mob across one of the busiest intersections in center city. Mobbers dutifully followed the arrow’s direction, only to realize that, like the “BN,” the arrow was false. E=MC2 found true trail, which led past the Criminal Justice Center.
Although the hare proved to be quite skilled in marking beer checks which didn’t exist and arrows that led nowhere, somehow his skill lapsed when time came to use the letter “F” when marking a False trail, of which there were many. The hare’s trail also made more turns than a subway turnstile, causing some hashers, long into the trail, to think the hare was lost and still running haplessly. Such hashers included Bastard Child, E=MC2, Strap On, Tickle My Elmo, and Wolfman Jackoff. Among these outlasting remainders of the BFM armada, there was little chance of losing the others because Tickle My Elmo shouts ‘On On’ like a human megaphone. ‘Are you?’s were at a pleasant minimum.
Back at Cherry Street Tavern, greeting the tired runners was Skin Fiddle, who opted against running this particular evening, but he showed up this time without suit and tie. And the apparently sneaker-less GM, Little Fucking Winkie, showed up in civilian garb, though he quickly took stage center and electrified the ass-emblage, as well a good GM should. He’s a charismatic bastid. In late and without sneakers, too, was Self Service, whose juicy feminine edge completed the BFM’s domination of Cherry Street’s back room, which is the venue where Wolfman Jackoff made the circle.
Just Brian down-downed for his hash-virginity. It and E down-downed for first-and-last. It blew it by down-downing with his trademark baseball hat still on, so he repeated his down-down with a fresh brew-ha-ha. If nothing else, this proves that hash traditions can survive even the BFMess.
The circle rightfully condemned the hare and pointed out the autohashers, some of whom drove in, or flew in, including Self Service. Lots of other thangs happened, most of which are best left unrepeated. May we all go to pieces, and may we all get some peace.
On on, ye bastids.
Filed Under Trash |
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