The crawl began at Roosevelt’s - 23rd & Walnut - where information is scarce - your correspondent wasn’t on the crawl yet and must rely on your reports. Evidently nobody was sufficiently hammered yet to make what they did reportable. This condition did not last after the Mob moved to the second stop, Callahan’s - 26th & South.

At Callahan’s, the locals wondered who this crowd of meatheads was invading their bar. With curiosity they watched E=My Cock Squared round everyone up. With amusement they watched hashers hammer their livers with large quantities of cheap beer.

First up was the hare – Rash - who wasn’t there. So Tastes Like Chicken, who’s stamp of approval helped create this mess, got serenaded for the shitty trail. Then came the virgins, who’s names are lost in the beer fog. Horny Hands made them come. Next up was the visitor, who was Horny Hands.

Then E welcomed back people who haven’t been around to do down downs - Sternum & Rectum, Self Service, Drag Queen, and Just Ashley. Ashley wore a becoming scarf on her head, but since head gear and down downs don’t mix, she was forced to down down a second time.

Then came First In and Last In. Ever the gentleman, Wolfman Jackoff, wasted no time outing See Me Feel Me Touch Me as First In. She was First In because the Wolfman, ever the gentleman, held the door for her at Roosevelt’s.

Last In was E=My Cock Squared, who missed Roosevelt’s altogether but managed to turn up at Callahan’s, unlike a certain Grand Master, who managed to turn up not at all. And unlike a certain Trash Scribe, who opted to go swimming in absinthe instead.

The 69th hash is generally a milestone for every hash, so E=My Cock Squared called into the circle the miscreants who went to BFM-1. At that BFM, many people turned out, but only a few have survived - the rest lost to exotic tropical diseases, deep space mishaps, and the wiles of BFM women. The BFM-1 leftovers who were present were E=My Cock Squared, Little Fucking Winkie, Lunar Digit, Self Service, your correspondent, and Strap On, who turned up later. Lunar Digit was the one who called this a Mob, which stuck.

The circle ended with a fond farewell to the very British Dyke Queen, who is moving to Pittsburgh, where he will study cooking and how to speak American.

Actually, he is studying business, and someday he will carry on Rupert Murdoch’s quest to take back from the states what rightfully belongs to The Queen. When E called him into the circle, someone reflexively shouted, ‘when one Brit drinks, they all dri-‘ and stopped suddenly - there were no other Brits! Bitchard and Tinkerbell were somewhere else, likely drinking tea, probably quoting Johnny Rotten, and no doubt impassively beating Americans at marathons.

After Dyke Queen’s final BFM down down, the hash went in peace, moving on to Grace Tavern - 2229 Grays Ferry Avenue - which was too small for such a giant and unruly mob. So the Mob moved on to Chaucer’s – 20th & Lombard - which wasn’t on the schedule but made a great surprise addition. At Chaucer’s a friend of Hold the Sausage, Just Sarah, got named.

Just Sarah has a fondness for the animal kingdom, including hamsters. At Skin Fiddle’s Anglo/American cook off a few weeks ago, Just Sarah rescued a hamster who wasn’t being cared for properly by Skin Fiddle who, as everyone knows, is the Cruella de Ville of hamsters.

It was her love of animals and general decency that made Just Sarah save the hamster. It was its love of sex and general indecency that made the Mob name her, "Fur Snatcher." The other suggestions were “Furry Snatch" and “Gerbillator,” so she got off lucky. Winkie the 401K named her with the power invested in him by the state of intoxication. Rash would have done that, but she wasn’t there, th’bastid.

Since both Dyke Queen and Drag Queen came out this night, the Mob appropriately wound up at Bob & Barbara’s – 15th & South - which on Thursday nights is like the US Senate, except all the men are dressed like women, and they sing. Tongue Twister and See Me Feel Me Touch Me were the first to arrive, and there saving space at the bar was Skin Fiddle, who, as everyone knows, is a Thursday night Bob & Barbara’s fixture. After the Mob filtered in, the place got smokier and crowdeder, and people spilled out into the street.

Out there, Dyke Queen was spotted tongue fencing with a woman whose identity is known to the eight voyeurs who ran out like the paparazzi who ran after Diana’s death car. Back inside, the drag show’s “hostess,” Miss Lisa, entertained the crowd between acts by dragging people from the crowd to dance onstage, including a non-hasher and Self Service, who, according to a well placed source, “can really bust a move."

Shitty trail, shitty bars, e pluribus screw ‘em.

Can You Hear Me Now?- Thank you Tongue Twister for excellent photographs!!!