BFM #57 - Dancing with Bum’s Urine
Posted on March 22, 2005
22 March 2005: Y’all come down to South Philly and Ray’s Bar (Happy Birthday), in SheMan and Deep Flute’s old neighborhood. And we did. Well, a few of us did. Dances with Bum’s Urine, Pound it In and Mary F*cking Poppins were there, already into the lager when I arrived, along with Tinkerbell (fresh from the slopes), C*nting Season, and our Grand F*cking Matress, Rash. Nut Crucher found his way, as did E=MC^2 and the lovely bride -to-Strap On. Even Dancing Fool made his trail-only appearance. We schmoozed and boozed until straw-pulling time, when Bum’s Urine was first and last to draw. No chalk talk tonight, just a raggedy bunch o’ hashers fell out into South Philly in search of Bum’s Urine. Shouldn’t be much of a challenge there, eh?
Trail was finally spotted (spotted, get it?), the orange tennis ball markings leading us east and south and north and east and west and … You get the idea. Mr. Urine used checks in his inimitable way, keeping the pack checking and on-onning together through the neighborhoods, deftly avoiding all the parks and playgrounds and otherwise non-asphalt byways. We passed several police cars during the On-IN stretch, and I wondered if they were suspicious of us and the strange Spots. However, Dancing (Fool) and I were greeted with a pleasant "Good Evening" by one of the local gendarmes, so they must have had better things to worry about. Or worse, I guess. The whole Mob was gathered outside the bar at the end, allowing me to be both first and last in!
Water, Beer and Winkie greeted the sweaty pack, and we were revived after our short but arduous journey. E convened the circle and the down-downing began. Our recently employed hare, Dances with You-Know-What (and overhears phone sex conversations at work) was *honored* first. First In and Last In, Tinkerbell and Cause for Blindness, were next, after which E requested a repeat performance for myself, since he so enjoyed reading the trash. Not. Winkie was drank alone as autohasher, Still Just Tyler having timed his appearance to miss the circle entirely. There may have been other accusations, but they are lost to me, drowned in a sea of lager. I know there was Pizza. And the Mob made it through another hash.
Don’t forget the Bachelorette and Bachelor fests this weekend.
And that’s the way it was.
On-oN,
Cause
Filed Under Trash |
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