BFM #167 – Cant resist the Mist™!
Posted on May 10, 2007
It seemed like any ordinary evening at the hash. I entered Buffalo Billiards on Chestnut Street to find a decent sized crowd of BFM regulars gathered around the bar drinking in preparation for the trail. Stan had already been stolen to no one’s surprise (a careless moment of neglect by her father). You can usually identify a fine drinking establishment by whether they display their vodka with colored backlighting. Buffalo Billiards had an impressive selection in the center of the bar and the bottles were all glowing red. I was surprised to find it was not the hole in the wall I had pictured, and that there were no tattooed bikers (or cowboys) playing pool.
Who Came:
Sloppy Ho, Just Diane, Can You Hear Me Now, Little Red Riding Wood, Hold the Sausage, Europee’n On Me, Holy Fuck, Strap On, E=My Cock Squared, Popeye’s Bitch, Rear Engineer, Stacks, New Kid on the Cock, Scooby Snatch, Just Megan, Mr Snuffle up a Muff, Mayor Quimby, Stan, Cause for Blindness, Attilla the Hung, Up her Ali, Big Tackle, Nappy Headed Ho, Little Fucking Winkie, Jingle Ballzzz, Just Kate, Fiber Opdick, Deep Flute, Tight Lips, Plastic Pud, Beagle, Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass, Soft Core Analyst, Son of Goat Fucker.
No straws were passed out since our volunteer hare Plastic Pud had pre-laid trail that night. Witha beer check. As Mayor Quimby nervously searched for Stan, I overheard Winkie mention that there would be a naming tonight.
The Mob meandered outside for Sloppy’s chalk talk, while Beagle and Sausage and headed off into the night in search of cheap beer for the outside circle. Our hare informed us we would see both 76 and 95 that night referencing his confusion over directions and highways.
The on-on was due east and we lost trail somewhere around Independence Hall. Not sure why we thought there would be a trail there since we’ve been warned many times NOT to dump any “unidentified illegal substance” there.
The Mob picked up trail going in the opposite direction and down Lombard. We ran straight for an eternity. I began to wonder if we would really see 76. So then we turned and ran straight in another direction for a long time. If I had to retrace the trail from that night, it would go something like this:
BAR
Beer Check
Not many surprises, but there was a good beer check at some place called Cocos in the Jewelry District. On our way into the bar, I noticed Just Reese with a cell Phone/GPS/MP3/DVD player strapped to his ass. And here I thought the spring in his step was because he was gay! Mental note to pick on the new guy in the circle. And in the hash trash.
Once inside, I began investigating Stan’s disappearance, eyeing up suspects, questioning potential perps. Fiber Opdick, taking any trips in the near future? Idaho you say? Poor Stan. Winkie says he’s not going away until August. Hmm… Deep Flute’s going to Florida this week… doesn’t seem a likely suspect. But she mentioned that she could have gotten a picture of Stan right next to the Space Shuttle at Cape Canaveral where her brother works. Note to kidnapper: Those Mexico pictures better be pretty damn good to top THAT.
We finished beer (some finished 2) and completed the last right angle of the square back to the bar.
An unusual scene took place outside as everyone in the Mob began stretching like we are serious runners or something. “Look at all you fuckers stretching!” Scooby called us on it. But we kept on doing it. And it felt good.
Sloppy Ho and I began to wonder where our Grand Mistress was since no one had seen or heard from her since she left for beer. She soon appeared with 3 large bottles wrapped in paper bags, luring the Mob like the pied piper to follow her to the circle. This walk took about as long as our run and many hashers were starting to whine.
We finally arrived at our destination where HTS supplied us with clear plastic cups, while she revealed the mystery drink in the bag … much to the confusion of the Mob. Apparently all beer distributors were closed and the bar 6 packs were too expensive for us, so our resourceful GM made the executive decision and got us Arbor Mist. Ah…Pink, Feminine, Fruity… much like the gynocracy.
This lightly carbonated, slightly sweetened wine product has a refreshing taste that is perfect for all social get-togethers, relaxing with friends, and as a personal indulgence at the end of a busy day. Ok, I got that from their web site. I also learned that Arbor Mist is “lower alcohol than many other wines,” so this does not help explain Europee’n’s giddiness as she left the circle.
After recovering from the initial shock, the Mob began to embrace the pink bubbly liquid, sipping with pinkies out, many claiming to prefer it over beer.
Hare: Plastic Pud
Virgin: Son of Goat Fucker … So that’s your real name then?
First In/Last In: E=MC2 and Cause for Blindness … this field should be a template that automatically populates in each hash trash.
Cums Lately: Rear Engineer volunteered himself. I think it should have been 3 Balls, but the Mob got distracted in the excitement of Arbor Mist and didn’t make him drink afterall.
Accusations:
Little Fucking Winkie – So this guy apparently had sex with a REAL virgin. He claims he didn’t know til AFTER. NNFA said that the girl just used him to “break it in” but she really likes someone else. Winkie added that she stood him up on a date via text. I’m scared to even ask how old she was.
CYHMN violated Hold the Sausage for making him drink “this swill” twice as a stand in hare until Plastic Pud got to the circle.
Winkie violated Just Reese for not knowing who Stan was – particularly because he plays kickball on the Stan’s Bitches Kickball team! Apparently Just Reese made claims that when he finds out who Stan is he’s “gonna kick his ass.” Our money is on Stan.
Sloppy Ho violated Fiber Opdick for having a gay moment with Popeye’s Bitch when he reminisced that one year ago today they both made out. I should note that they made out without Popeye’s consent and that it was during a bet Fiber Opdick made to get women to make out.
Sloppy also violated E and Strap On for making out in their car. And when one married person drank… Big Tackle and whoever else I missed drank. Note: Cause DID NOT drink.
Holy Fuck violated Just Reese for tech on ass on trail. Reese said I was just looking at his ass.
Announcements:
Europee’n On Me: She is taking order for Stan’s Bitches Tee Shirts
Hold the Sausage and NNFA: The 169 will be a trail, scavenger hunt, pub crawl… and we’re going with the theme kids! “Spicy”. There may be a hike in hash cash. Bring your party pants.
NNFA: Full Moon is Tomorrow
Scooby: Full Moon is Tomorrow
Attilla the Hung: His brother’s in town next Friday – we need to show him a good time
E=MC2: He and Strap On are haring the Tuesday Philly Hash in King of Prussia
Just Reese: Stans Bitches team practice is Sunday at 4pm
Holy Fuck: 11am we are meeting at McFaddens for the après-Broad Street run
Hold the Sausage: Needs your tee shirt ideas for the haberdashery… a big vagina?
Now it was time for the naming of Just Reese! He teaches linguistics, his favorite position is IN, his O face is unimpressive, he went to Boston College, grew up in Valley Forge, and his favorite farm animal is a parakeet (?).
Some of the names tossed out included Corky Romano, Plays with Himself, Kick Balls, Polly Wanna Cock, Mango, Pitcher and Catcher, Wrong turn to Brown Town, and Every Man I Blow. After several ties, the Mob finally stopped voting twice and Barry Maniblow was the clear winner based on Just Reese’s resemblance to the gay singer and probably more influenced by the fact we were drinking Arbor Mist.
The circle was closed and the Mob made the long arduous trek back to the bar for Dos Equis bottles. Inside were autohasher Tickle My Elmo, Anal Proboner, Skin Fiddle and Just Megan waiting at the bar.
I played one round of foosball with Barry Maniblow against Mayor Quimby and Just Kate. Once they kicked our ass, I realized I could never live up to Barry Maniblow’s mad foosball skills, so I went and ordered chicken fingers. I will note for the record however, that I did score our only goal in that game.
The Mob seemed mellow, eating dinner at the bar or having casual conversations around the room. I think we can also attribute this to the Arbor Mist. Since it wasn’t gonna be a rock and roll night and no one was obviously taking over the jukebox, I left. Whatever happened after that is your business.
On, on!
Holy Fuck 
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for clarification: the vagina idea for 200th is MINE and always has been!!