BFM #26

Posted on August 19, 2004

19 August 2004: On Thursday, the Ben Franklin Mob HHH flooded Liberties Restaurant & Bar, 705 N. 2nd Street. Flagrantly flouting pointless hash convention, Lunar Digit wore a suit and tie and ordered a Martini. Fresh in from Boston was Wee Willie Wanker.

When someone (was it Self Service?) presented straws, grabbing hands reached in from every direction, but no one drew the short straw, including experienced hares like Bitchard, E=My Cock Squared, Strap On, Where’s Dildo?, and even Little Fucking Winkie. So would the short straw go to a newby like Just Damien or Just Clay, or to a virgin like Just Kate or Just Jen? What happens when a virgin hasher must lay live trail?

We didn’t find out because STD stepped up and pulled the shorty. It was in her hand, and a poker face crowded out her smile. She grabbed the flour bag and rushed from the bar, due south. Back inside mob mismanagement determined that there were many virgins, requiring a chalk talk, which E conducted outside. He was heckled, but he got it done. Then the on on was on.

STD’s trail turned left sharply and hooked back through an alley behind the bar. The mob haplessly passed the alley by. Only after lapping the surrounding blocks did the mob discover the sneaky alley trail, and through it the mob went. On the far end, the trail opened into a series of loops leading in all directions, tracing a giant cat’s cradle in the neighborhood’s diagonal streets and undeveloped shiggy lots.

The trail confused the mob. All part of STD’s plan, which was to avoid capture by making finding trail as challenging as possible. That she did. She compounded the mob’s confusion by disrupting her cat’s cradle loops with many “F”alse marks. At one point Bastard Child found trail and drew a helpful arrow. It was a thoughtful act, but his arrow pointed where we had already run. D’bastid.

STD’s trail dispersed the mob into moblets, with everyone yelling “are you?” and “checking,” but rarely “on on.” On one street you’d see three hashers running north, and on the next street another group running south. Groups would merge, run together briefly, and break off in different combinations. The old buildings were dark; there wasn’t much moonlight. People began to disappear, one by one. What happened to them?

They returned to the bar and started drinking, that’s what. Skin Fiddle led that charge, never looking back. In time, the streets were quiet and the bar got loud. But where was the hare? Some hashers went looking, fearing the worst. This squad of Dudley Do-Rights included Drag Queen, Master Baster, Strap On, E, Rash, and Little Fucking Winkie.

Your correspondent also went looking, only to be find the words “ON IN” which the hare wrote in flour next to a horse stable. Was this the ‘unicorn of hashing’ – the ever-elusive live trail beer check? Nope. The only way “on in” to the stable was through a doorway that framed a guard dog descended from the Tyrannosaurus. It didn’t need to growl. I returned to the bar.

In the bar there was the hare, triumphantly un-caught. The rest of the mob was busy with each other and the bartender. Crusty Calves was chatting with Skin Fiddle and Master Baster. E was in the back chatting with Just Elizabeth, Just Sarah, and Just Heather. Was he trying to explain his hash name?

Also in the bar was the auto hashing Wolfman Jackoff, who led everyone outside for the circle, which duly dishonored STD for her exceptionally shitty trail. First In and DFL drank, as did auto-hashers. Then came the accusations. The mob was especially ornery, tossing accusations like dodge balls.

Just Elizabeth drew a double violation for cell and pager on trail. Just Dan got it for cell during circle - calling voice mail no less! Drag Queen got it for wearing a racing shirt, though it was a charity race shirt. No charity for him this night. Lunar Digit got doubled for the martini and the suit, and Bastard Child was nailed for being “helpful” on trail. Finally, Winkie was violated for being more whipped than a vat of creamery butter.

Many livers got hit hard, but in the end everyone was standing. There were announcements, and the circle broke. People made their way back in while others remained outside, including Nut Cruncher, who would neither confirm nor deny that he had no comment. Soon came Cause for Blindness, who may be regressing to her auto hashing ways. The evening slipped away, as did the beer, as did hashers, sometimes one by one.

On on.

Denouncements:

THIS FRIDAY: Philly Full Moon Hash - Friday, August 27 - Seven O’Clock PM:

Co-Hares are Self Service and STD. Gather up in the parking lot on Church Street between Front & Second - no you can’t park here or they’ll tow your ass. Church is 1/2 block north of Market for those that don’t know.

Call if you need more info. 215-829-1363 or 215-300-6165 cell.

THIS SATURDAY: Phillies Game / Tailgate Party: Saturday, August 28.

It is a night game (7:05) against Milwaukee.

This is an All-Hash event. Hashers from any Hash are welcome.

The tailgate will cost $5. Everyone liked the tailgate last year and it will be even better this year. If you are curious, ask someone who went last year: B&E, Cousin It, Clorineman, Plunge & Puke, Comes Early, Crib Snatcher, E=MyCock^2, Handjob, Jaguar, Jubal, Just Janet, Rock Hard, Strap-on, Target, Teflon, Just Wyatt, Just Mom, Baby Huey, Just Nate, Mary F. Poppins, Butt Head, Devil Woman, Late Cummer, Just Gwen, Dry Hump, Curly, Larry, Moe, Manny, Moe, Jack, Tom, Dick, Harry, Count Chocula, Frankenberry, Boo Berry, and others.

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