BFM #72 - There’s no place like home
Posted on July 7, 2005
7 July 2005: Dateline Philadelphia. A motley crue of folks calling themselves the Ben Franklin Mob Hash House Harriers invaded the quiet confines of McGillan’s Old Ale House tonight. Tucked away on tiny Drury Street in Center City, the friendly pub was quiet on this Thursday night. But not for long. First to arrive, dressed in club garb, was a woman who gave her name only as Rash. Soon after a slim fellow called, strangely, Pound it In, sidled up to the bar and ordered a lager. Soon small contingent grew to small crowd size with the rapid arrival of a Can You Hear Me Now?, Little Red Riding Wood, Cause for Blindness, and several whose names make this reporter blush, like C*nting Season, B*stard Child, Nice Shoes, Wanna F*ck?, Little F*cking Winkie, and Mary F*cking Poppins. With the addition of Hold the Sausage, Lunar Digit, Skin Fiddle, Cheep Show, E=MCSquared and his new wife, Strap-on, and a Fur Snatcher, a quorum was declared and the evening’s business began in earnest. Rash, apparently the one in charge of the Mob, counted out enough straws for everyone, then chewed off the end of one, making it noticeably shorter. She then held them out to each of the assembled, in turn, until one of them, Cause for Blindness, drew the short straw. The young woman took a bag of colored flour - Red, in honour of Independence Day - and set out as the "Hare," setting a trail for the "Hounds" to follow.
The trail led down to the end of the narrow lane and Ms. Blindness drew a large X on the corner, indicating that the trail stopped there, only to begin again in an unknown direction. "This is to keep the FRB’s (front running b*stards) busy while the DFL’s (dead f’ing last) catch up," she explained. Then she took off in the direction of the Walnut Street Bridge and who knows from there. Five minutes later the rest of the group, the "hounds," came out to follow the flour, with shouts of "RU?" and "On-on" in their wake.
Meanwhile, back in the Bar, Mr. Shoes and a woman named Beer Sucks enjoyed some drinks, biding their time until the noisy crowd would return, and chatting up the proprietor, Chris, whom they referred to as Free Beer Tomorrow. Cousin It arrived, too late to run, as did a Dancing Fool, however Mr. Fool decided to hunt down the pack on his own. About 30 minutes later, a tired and visibly sweating Cause for Blindness returned, bag nearly empty, and demanded a beer. Right Now! She then recounted her travels through University City, especially delighting in setting a few false trail on the Penn campus, over the South Street bridge, zig-zagging back to the bar. The rest of the runners were not far behind, though, and soon the whole group moved upstairs to their private room to continue their revelry.
At the bidding of the "Religious Advisor," E=MC^2 the crowd came to to some sort of order, and the ritual of "down-downs" began. Cause for Blindness, as the hare, was accused of setting a sh*tty trail, and made to drink while a bawdy song was warbled. Strap-on was honoured (?) as First in and Skin Fiddle, as Last in. Those who arrived late, or otherwise did not run, were next into the middle of the circle: Nice Shoes, Beer Sucks, Cousin It, Pound it In (who only did half the trail), Mulva, and a quiet woman named, surprisingly, F*ck Off, who had had a prior engagement, but joined the group during "the Circle."
After much drinking and singing and talking, the Harriers drifted downstairs, and home, happy to have met one more time - this was the 72nd - as a Big F*cking Mess.
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Witnesses:
Bitchard - Can’t get enough punishment
Can You Hear Me Now? Caught the pack en route
Cause for Blindness - Co-hare, delinquent trash scribe and therefore drinker of Shirley Tempest. (Nasty stuff)
C*nt’mo - visiting here, visiting there, visiting everywhere
E=MC^2 or Mr. On
Fur Snatcher - One of Sausage’s virgins, a keeper
Hold the Sausage - First In, Virgin-bringer record holder, birthday neglected in April finally acknowledged
Just Jackie - Virgin
Just Todd - Another autohasher
Little F*cking Winkie - Auto hasher and world traveller
Nice Shoes, Wanna F*ck? - Virgin Hare
Pound it In - Injured Reserve, autohasher
Rash - Our Grand F’in’ Matress
Skin Fiddle - Last but not least
Sly Fox - Finished her Boards!
Stacks - You used to know her as See Me etc.
Strap On - or Mrs. E
Wolfman - Auto hasher
Trail:
Trail was short and sweet, with a visit to all the bus and subway stops in the Market East area. Not once, though, did the trail actually go into any underground area. Rumor has is that several hashers did. Approximate length, 1.5 miles (counting all those falses).
Overheard:
"The only thrills left are speed and pain."
"Obviously none of you have had sex with me."
Announcements
The BFM #75th (July 28) will be a Formal Dress Hash.
Kilts are okay. Practice running in your favorite red dress.
Cousin It’s Annual Phillies Tailgate Hash will be Satruday, August 20, against the Pirates.
Wachovia Center Parking Lot C-2
Broad and Pattison, Philadelphia
Tix - $20
Tailgaite - $10
RSVP Cousin It
Keep in touch with Tongue Twister in Fort Drum:
Paul Eivins
19415 Caird Rd.
Adams Center NY 13606
And thanks to CYH MNow? for updated our Beerly Departed page.
Filed Under Trash |
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