I recently discovered that in England they have these things called ASBOs, which stands for Anti-Social Behavior Orders, which is basically a ticket you get for being a dickwad.  How awesome is that? So now you all know what to get each other for Christmas.  Or Hannukah.  Or both.  I don’t discriminate.

Speaking of dickwads, The Mob gathered this week at Westy’s, a bar we haven’t been to in a long time which I think is a shame because it’s located in a neighborhood where you can get a gun permit out of a van just about half a block away.  But I digress.  Lured to the bar this evening were Stacks, Just Manish, Nice Nuggets, Fat Ass, Sloppy Ho, Scooby Snatch, Tickle My Elmo, Sly Fox, Popeye’s Bitch, Two Clump Chump, Up Her Ali, Cunting Season, Tastes Like Chicken, Bastard Child, Europee’n On Me, Holy Fuck, Snowball, Can You Hear Me Now?, Egotestical, Queef, Little Red Riding Wood, He’s A Lesbian, Plastic Pud, Just Dave, Bumble Beaver, The Rash, and SheMan. 

After warming up with a few beers, drawing straws for hare, and replacing said straws in Cunting Season’s hair without her noticing, the Mob wandered out into the cold to stand around for Scooby Snatch’s chalk talk, which approximately no one listened to.  Upon realizing that Scooby had stopped talking, the Mob perked up and dashed off to find trail.  Trail led towards the Ben Franklin Parkway.  At the fountain, the Mob became completely confused by trail.  Hashers ran in all directions. Mass confusion reigned! Pandemonium!  Chaos!….until somebody yelled to quit following the virgin, fer cryin’ out loud, and the Mob found trail and everything was better. 

Better, that is, until trail started leading back to the bar through one of Philadelphia’s scenic bad neighborhoods.  The Mob became uncharacteristically quiet and a lot faster than usual, especially while sprinting by the very, very, extremely angry pit bull that was chained in the back of a truck.  I’ve never seen the Mob so relieved to get back to a bar.   

After some confusion about bags, and the whole “A to A prime“ concept, the Mob put on some warm clothes and headed to the A prime, which was the parking lot next door to begin the circle. 

The circle, this evening run by RA Scooby Snatch, and which was so cold I could barely write, so if I missed anything, bite me:

Hares: Cunting Season, Up Her Ali

Virgin: Just Dave, Egotestical made him come.

Visitor: Queef, from Princeton, who elected to show a body part. (And not the fun one either. ) (Unless you’re into that sort of thing.)

First In/Last In: Two Clump Chump, SheMan

Comes Lately: Tastes Like Chicken, Little Red Riding Wood, Holy Fuck

For Running in Front of a Car (which was total horseshit, btw): The Rash

Racing Shirts: Just Dave, and for not taking care of his virgin, Egotestical

Overacheving Ass Clowns: Stacks, Nice Nuggets, Fat Ass, Scooby Snatch, Can You Hear Me Now?, and under the When One GM Drinks rule, Tickle My Elmo and Cunting Season

Hat Violation: Nice Nuggets, Fat Ass, and under the When One OnSec Drinks rule, The Rash

For Using a Nerd Name in the Circle: Tickle My Elmo, Bastard Child, and under the When One GM Drinks rule, Cunting Season and Scooby Snatch

For Whining About Where He Should Park His Bike: Popeye’s Bitch

Autohashers: Virgin Pimp, Bumble Beaver, Tastes Like Chicken

For Announcing Overachieving Ass Clown Events in the Circle: Cunting Season, Bumble Beaver, and under the When One blah de blooh de blah, Tickle My Elmo, Scooby Snatch

New Shoes: Virgin Pimp

 And that was the circle.  After Bastard Child and I discussed Virgin Pimp’s fashion-challenged pleated pants (Bastard Child: Makes you look like you have Hammer pants! Doo doo do do, do do, do do!) The Mob retreated from the cold back into the bar to scar the other patrons with their karoke stylings, as follows: 

Tickle My Elmo: The Humpty Dance, by Digital Underground

Scooby Snatch: The drag queen favorite Shania Twain’s Man, I Feel Like A Woman, and The Ramones I Wanna Be Sedated

Can You Hear Me Now?: The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, by someone I don’t feel like looking up

At this point in time, Strap On arrived to the hash, followed by E = My Cock Squared.

Holy Fuck and Europee’n On Me: All I Wanna Do by Sheryl Crow

Snowball: Lola, by… some guy

Up Her Ali: We Belong, by Pat Benatar

Fruit of the Clue showed up

Queef: Let the Good Times Roll, the newer version, not the older one that sounds like it mated with The Bristol Stomp

Bumble Beaver and Two Clump Chump: the Blues Brothers version of Proud Mary

The Rash: Special, by Garbage

Popeye’s Bitch, Virgin Pimp, Just Manish: Bye Bye Bye, by the Backstreet Boys which so tickled the karaoke guy (I think he was drunk) that he made them stay up there and sing The Right Stuff by New Kids On the Block

Sloppy Ho: Don’t Stop Believing, by Journey

And there was more, probably, but this is where I went home.  Tada.

On On,

The Rash