BFM 163 – “Finn McCool” Rhymes with “Dancing Fool”

Posted on April 12, 2007

It’s April now and temperatures have once again dropped to the 30’s.  Why?!   I’d like to know when we are going to start reaping some benefits from global warming.  For some reason, I decided to walk to the hash tonight, which would be my first time since moving to Philly.  And it was far…like over a mile far.   Bumble Beaver accompanied me on the long cold journey to Finn McCool’s where BFM #163 was being held. 

We arrived at the corner of 12th and Sansom as the pack was finishing up with the chalk talk. Dancing Fool, our volunteer hare, had left well over 10 minutes ago so we were officially late.   We dropped off our bags and I came out, pen and pad in hand, much to the relief of Up her Ali who was thinking she was in it for her 4th trash in a row.  

My, what a small crowd this evening … I’m assuming the rest of you got scared off by the cold? Those who bravely beared it:  Dancing Fool, Queef, Just Allison, Tour de Puke, Jingle Ballzzz, Bumble Beaver, Holy Fuck, Sloppy Ho, Soft Core Anal-yst, Plastic Pud, Mayor Quimby, Stan (naked), Cause for Blindness, and Little Red Riding Wood.
 
The pack took off down 12th Street. Bringing up the rear (yes I said “up the rear”), Up Her Ali and I were prodded along by a helpful hobo,“You guys gotta catch up!”   The Mob continued past Reading Terminal Market (my reco for breakfast is the Dutch Eating Place … just like mom’s in the kitchen), and up past City Hall. 

 
We started thinking Dancing Fool could be taking us down the ol’ Green Dress route. “Recycled Trail!” yelled Sloppy Ho, with no pun intended. We ended up stuck on one of those tiny triangle cement island thingys in the intersection. For like ever. 
 
The pack headed down JFK to 17th when I heard someone yell, “Hey is that E?!!”  Standing at the corner in the distance was E=My Cock Squared, back pack in tow.   Some may have been surprised by his sudden appearance, but I’ve recently become aware of the underground network of tunnels and phone booth elevators that E=MC2 and Strap On use to navigate their way around the city, appearing seemingly out of “nowhere.”  As we rounded the corner, I saw Strap On emerge from a sidewalk grate.
 
We continued down Ben Franklin Parkway, passing a mother and her 2 kids who immediately began imitating our heavy breathing and lethargic running style. Ok.  So we may not be the MOST athletic group, but we deserve props for running our freezing butts off for beer.   
 
 
We heard a familiar “On, On!” in the distance and looked to see E=MC2 waaaaaaaaaaayyy up the Parkway, beckoning us like a Mother Hen.  Since no one was particularly fast this evening, nor were we interested in looking for trail, we pretty much just did whatever E said.  
 
After an “exhilarating” run down the center of the Parkway (I’m still not sure how we survived) we found a welcome “RMN” [Recycling Machine Near] near the corner at 22nd.

 
 

 

For those of you who have never had the opportunity to see Dancing Fool’s vehicle, I had wanted to paint a mental picture for you by describing some of its contents. I found that I could barely identify what was in the top layer of “stuff.”  I asked the rest of the pack to help me out and tell me what was in the car.   “What isn’t in the car?” replied Cause for Blindness.  
 
Besides the usual smattering of cans, I found 2 rolls of “Happy Birthday” banners, some used bags, and a gasoline can. The whole inside of the car smelled like gasoline for that matter, and it seemed to me like it would be a lot easier to just burn the vehicle with everything inside rather than try to sort it all out.  I know, I know—that would defeat the point. 
 
Luckily Jingle Ballzzz was able to locate the case of unused Yuengling cans graciously left under the front seat for the pack.   I heard him excitedly shout “Oh we got Chocolate!!!” as he pulled out a box of Hershey’s Pot o’ Gold. Not sure it was meant for us, and no one seemed to be jumping for it, so he threw it back. Too soon, in my opinion.   
 
The Mob drank their beers in full view of the intersection, trading amusing Dancing Fool recycling/cleaning stories. Cause then made sure everyone crushed their cans to his liking before placing them in a recycled bag to be recycled.
 
E led us out again, we circled the large apartment building across the street unnecessarily, then found trail heading down 22nd. Turning right on Winter Street, some hashers went off road and over the area of grass I like to call “Charley’s mine field.” I did warn whoever was in earshot that I don’t always carry a baggy with me. 
 
We ran back up to 22nd and appeared to be heading right to my building.
 
-“Holy Fuck, are we doing another beer check at your place?”
-“Not unless he broke in.”
-“Maybe Dancing Fool is recycling your stuff right now.”
 
We made a right down the creepy alley behind my building. I figured Fool picked this place because it’s ridden with abandoned recyclable materials (some call it trash).   Tonight the alley was looking unusually clean.  Coincidence? 
                                     
Mayor Quimby and Stan caught up with us at this point, and I gotta be honest I had forgotten all about them. Yes, you too, Stan (mommy loves you).  MQ started whining about the fact that we allegedly left him at the start when he ran off to find the trail and blah blah blah, we may have forgotten to yell “On On” when we took off, and yada yada yada, he had to hash the entire trail by himself and miss the beer check. Waaaaah. Mayor Quimby threatened everyone in the Mob with a violation for this. And the Mob was scared.
 
We heard the faint sound of E yelling in the distance, which we eventually found to be coming from the corner of Market and 22nd. The Mob continued up Walnut and through Rittenhouse Square, at which point we lost trail. We hung around for a bit waiting for E to again tell us where to go, but everyone got impatient and short-cutted back to the bar.  
 
Back at Finn McCool’s the dance was music pumpin’ loud on the juke box and a crowd of happy hour leftovers were standing in my way.  We pushed past them to the back table where our bags were (we hoped) still stored. I noted the first autohasher of the evening Rear Engineer sitting at a table trying to assimilate with the happy hour crowd. 
 
Sloppy Ho, our appointed GM for the evening, made the executive decision to hold the circle in the parking garage across the street with a sweet case of Yuengling bottles.  At this point the hare had already split, and E was still somewhere on trail. 
 
Our second autohasher, Can You Hear Me Now, appeared in the garage and began affixing a mysterious piece of paper to the wall (more about this in a second). The circle began with Sloppy’s toast to “Drinkin’ in the Alley”, for which Up Her Ali ran around the circle to clink everyone’s bottles.
 
Hare:   Tour de Puke… someone volunteered him as a stand-in.
 
At this point, CYHMN yelled “Hey, what’s that?” and pointed to the paper on the wall… this turned out to be Sloppy’s missing cheet sheet. Whew! We were almost as worried about its disappearance as we were about Stan’s.
 
First in: Mayor Quimby
 
Last in: E=My Cock Squared.   He was the only one left on trail. 
 
Autohashers: Rear Engineer and CYHMN
 
Cums Lately: Queef … I have in my notes that he got beer in his eyes when he was chugging.  If you are that out of practice drinking beer, you need to show up more often.
 
Sloppy called for accusations and, as we expected (and feared), Mayor Quimby stepped up to the plate. He no sooner got through announcing that his name was “Mayor Quimby” when the Mob viciously turned against him yelling, “Whining!” Accusation was denied.
 
Accusations:
 
Up Her Ali to Soft Core Anal-yst for running face first into a gate while he was looking for trail.
 
E=MC2 – “We have a bike hasher!”   Popeye’s Bitch showed up at that moment, but spent so much time “parking” his bike we forgot to make him drink.
 
CYHMN to “Blondie” (Holy Fuck) for using his nerd name in the circle.
 
And when one “blondie” drank…. Sloppy Ho drank.
 
And when one on-sec drank … Up Her Ali drank.
 
Announcements:
 
Jingle Ballzzz: Philly Full Moon is tomorrow. Will have 2, possibly 3 beer or shot checks. Revisionalist history note: There will be 2 checks. The second one will offer both beer, shots, Maneshevits, and a golden retriever.  
 
Tour de Puke: Cape May Hash… didn’t get the date but I think it’s over.
 
 
The circle was now closed.  As we finished up our beer, Queef peed behind the dumpster next to me so of course I was going to write that.   The Mob headed into the bar for warmth and more beer. I was surprised to find Jingle Ballzzz sipping a smooth Cabernet (he actually said he got a choice of “red” or “white” so he didn’t know what he was drinking). This supposedly had something to do with Passover, but I think he is really just trying to class up the group.  Kind of like the NYC Hash.
 
A drunk autohasher named Tickle My Elmo stumbled in late with Just Rich as the BFM girls were preparing a massive jukebox coup.  I got in a debate with Bumble Beaver over why I smelled “farted chicken wings.” She claimed that she only smelled “sweet chicken wings.”  I added that I smelled those too. And also a big fart. Thankfully, Elmo cleared the air and confessed. (Shameless pun, I know).  We were also right about the chicken wings. I saw them being served up at the bar, but somehow I had lost my appetite.
 
As I was ordering beer, a huge meathead at the bar started asking about our r*nning club and who was the “fastest r*nner” in the group. Unsure what his motives were, I was quick to sacrifice E=MC2, pointing him out in the crowd for the big scary stranger. The guy claimed that he “chases people down for a living,” and that even though he was big (read: huge and fat), he could still “take the fastest person down” before they got away.  I said I’d like to see THAT.  He said if I paid him, he would chase down E.  Unfortunately I had no cash left, so we will never get to see it.  
 
He proceeded to hike up his pant leg and show me his big meaty calf. He then asked me to feel his calf muscle.  I found this to be both creepy and fascinating at the same time.  Later and drunker, he would challenge Tour de Puke to a “calf-off.”   TDP skillfully diffused the situation by acknowledging Larry had bigger, more muscular calves.   Did I not mention his name is Larry?   To recap, Larry has BIG calves. Most likely from chasing people down for a living. Olympic Athlete? Professional Killer?  Mayor Quimby surmised he could be a Bounty Hunter.  How exciting!   But it seems our fun with Larry was over when I heard him calling some hashers “bird shit” as he was leaving the bar. That’s the best you got Larry?  Elmo farts in your general direction.
 
Allturd Boy showed up at some point after his date, but I can’t remember if it was before or after the calf-off.
 
Toward the end of the night it was time for my favorite drunk topic of discussion – politics!  Yes, in case you missed Elmo’s announcement, I am *gasp* Republican!  Elmo, didn’t your parents tell not to discuss religion and politics in “polite company”?  I can ‘out’ myself, thank you.  And as I sit here watching Fox News, curled up with my copy of Godless, I am reminded that our differences in opinions and the freedom to express them are what makes this country so great. [Actually I’m watching Cool Hand Luke and writing the trash (duh)].  I don’t generally discuss politics, but for those who care to engage in lively political debate I would refer you to the Philly Hash…ask for Hand Job.
 
And finally … for you to download to your Ipods …the 13-song superset that rocked the house at Finn McCool’s last Thursday. There would be more but we ran out of money. You may recognize a few gems from previous hashes?
 
  1. Don’t Stop Believin’ – Journey
  2. Ecstasy – Rusted Root
  3. Just Like Heaven – The Cure
  4. Flagpole Sitta – Harvey Danger
  5. Since You’ve Been Gone – Kelly Clarkson
  6. Don’t You Want Me – Human League
  7. Toxic – Baldney Spears
  8. La Isla Bonita – Madonna
  9. Folsom Prison Blues – Johnny Cash
  10. No Sleep Til Brooklyn – Beastie Boys
  11. What’s My Age – Blink 182
  12. Summer of ’69 – Bryan Adams
  13. Crazy – Beyonce
 
 
Gay innuendo overheard at the hash:
 
Jingle Ballzzz: So…what are you doing later?
Mayor Quimby: I’m not spinnin my dradle!
 
 
On, On!
 
Holy F*ck 
 
 
Without question, the greatest invention in the history of mankind is beer. Oh I grant you that the wheel was also a fine invention, but the wheel does not go nearly as well with pizza! 
– Dave Barry

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1 Comment so far
  1. mycocksquared April 12, 2007 7:14 am

    I wish everyone would always just blindly listen to what I say. It would make everything so much easier.