So I’m always running late for any hash in Olde City because YOU CANT FIND @&$X#  PARKING!!   I finally snagged the “perfect” spot on Front Street around the corner from Drinkers Tavern where the BFM 172 was being held.  It was 7:50 and the meter ended at 8. Cool,  I’ll just put in a quarter to cover 15 minutes.  For some reason it never ends up being that simple with the PPA.  I went to pay a ticket online yesterday from waaaay back in March (because they were threatening to boot my car for "late payment").   Ironically, and much to my delight, I discovered a new parking violation for last Thursday, June 7. On Front Street.  I love Philadelphia. 

After paying the meter, Stan and I ran at lightning speed to Drinker’s where we found a very sparse crowd there to welcome her home from her recent trip to Cannes. Stan now prefers wine over beer, and she no longer bathes or shaves her armpits….just like a true Euro (sorry, Euro).

It was 8pm, and we seemed to be missing one Religious Advisor and one bag o’ flour. I passed out the straws, which only ended up being one straw because Plastic Pud drew first, and he drew the short one. Cunting Season immediately called foul and demanded he have a co-hare, based on Pud’s reputation for shitty trail.   I decided to volunteer, but quickly regretted that decision.   I passed baby Stan over to Cause for Blindness, who took her into her bosom (literally). Now for the next challenge: Flour.

 

I vaguely remembered where there might be a store, and ran out of the bar with Pud in tow. He got a bit too chatty jogging along, and I had to keep us focused, considering Gestapo Cunting Season was only giving us 10 minutes to find a market, buy flour, get back to the start and then somehow lay the trail ahead of the pack.  

We found the Mulberry Market many blocks away, and bought a bag of flour for each of us. As we were r*nning back to the bar, we saw the Mob already outside doing a chalk talk. FUCK!   I told Plastic Pud to “quickly” throw down a check at the corner and “quickly” get out of their site.  He was there for what seemed to be an eternity – and I’m sure the Mob could see him at this point — as I yelled for him to hurry up.

I told Pud I would lay the trail, and then I gave him ONE simple instruction: “Just mark the checks where I tell you to, and then catch up to me.” I then pointed to where he needed to mark his first check.

Like Da Vinci painting the Mona Lisa, Pud began delicately crafting his work of art on his sidewalk canvas.  This should have taken 2 seconds, but I had gone about a quarter mile before I realized he wasn’t following. I waited for about another 3 minutes that felt like an hour. Realizing that the pack soon would be catching up, and that Pud must have been too distracted by his masterpiece to realize which direction I went, I made the decision to abandon my co-hare tortoise and move on. 

 

I took the trail down some stairs to Columbus Blvd and made my way back up Olde City to Independence Hall area. This area is always a challenge because the park and all the federal buildings are off limits to flour.   Or anthrax.  And they are serious about it. So you either need to run a loooong way around it to keep the trail going, or you just do like I did and head on back to the bar.   I went across Market and down 4^th Street to Chestnut, weaving back through the alleys towards Drinker’s Pub.

 

Thankfully beating the Mob back to the bar, I now looked like shake n’ bake covered in flour with my notepad, trying to recap what I just did for the trash as the bartender was making fun of me. The Mob came in about 15 minutes later, saying they’d caught my “co-hare” on trail, who was standing around looking confused. I can only imagine.   The trail would have been longer for them, but they apparently gave up at Market Street and shortcut back to the bar. I suppose that’s a lot easier than actually looking for marks – like the 2 glaring marks on the first 2 trees going down 4^th street.  

 

As the Mob began to file down into the Drinker’s dungeon for circle, we noticed a large closed circuit television capturing the action in the basement for the upstairs bar. Smart for them to keep an eye on us. Some hashers began flashing the camera from downstairs.

 

 

Hares:

Holy Fuck and Plastic Pud …he definitely takes his time haring and chugging

 

NNFA:   Cause for Blindness for breastfeeding Stan

NNFA:   Lick Hymen for thinking the spray painted words “One call” on the sidewalk were an actual mark on trail. “ ‘One call’?… what does that mean?!!”

Cunting Season:  Plastic Pud for losing his co-hare.

 

Autohashers:

Skin Fiddle, Just Diane… Note: there were many more upstairs avoiding the circle.

 

I saw Just Travis get down on his knees, which I guessed meant he was going to be named. But he does this a lot, so you never know.   Fun facts about Travis: He went to NC State. He was a math major. He’s been to a lesbian bar where he got down on all 4’s wearing a dog collar, while a ‘cop’ rode him and whipped his ass like a pony. And ladies, you may be interested to know he’s also pooped on trail. In his pants. Grrrrrrrr.  Just Travis was also the jackass who took Stan to Mexico but got “too wasted” and forgot to take pictures. 

 

Many lame-ass names were proposed in the circle, so we had to toss out the first round and start a-fresh. In the end, Pooper Trooper was pushed out as the clean winner.  

 

·        BFM Prom – June 14

·        Savoy at the Academy of Music – June 15 (see Jingle Ballzzz for tickets)

·        2 Clump’s Summer SolstASS – June 21

·        Gynocracy’s Excellent Adventure – June 28

·        Philly “Blue Moon” Hash – June 29

·        Hashtille Day (and Stan’s birthday) – July 14

·        Bruce-a-Palooza – July 28

·        Cousin IT’s Annual Phillies Tailgate – August 11

·        “Got Stan?” tee’s are being ordered – See Euro to pay

·        Cause is still divorced.

 

At this point, more autohashers appeared downstairs including Tickle My Elmo, Mayor Quimby and Rear Engineer.  The basement felt like it was about 40 degrees, so I went upstairs to warm up and found Strap On playing the crack box. She proudly noted that she still has the high score from when we hashed here in March. But can she beat this guy?   http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ymx8z_ydOeU 

 

And what exactly IS the secret “eye trick” ?  Must find out!

 Sloppy Ho and I watched the game upstairs at the bar for a while until more drunk hashers began coming upstairs and flooding me with information for the trash.  In case you didn’t know…

….Just Alice gets excited when she sees Virgin Pimp in the elevator. This statement raises lots of questions, but I’ll start with ‘what is Alice doing in the elevator with Pimp?’

 …Stan is going to Frankfurt, Germany this week with her father.

 

…2 Clump Chump told us that Drinker’s Pub was apparently not named after the act of imbibing. It was established in 1724 by a guy named Tom Drinker. Tickle My Elmo pointed out, “It’s like that guy Crapper who invented the toilet”

 

…Virgin Pimp has special tongue talents, which he proudly demonstrated for the crowd. He can flip it backwards, twist it, curl it, and stick it in Pooper Trooper’s ass. I made that last one up, but Im sure he can do it well.  

 

Mayor Quimby then ordered a round of shots … it was something that sounded like “Chewbaca.”  A wookie. I don’t know what it really was, but rocket fuel would be a more accurate name for it because it put everyone on the moon. 

The bartender leaned over to ask me what I wanted to do with my flour that I had left at the end of the bar. This question did not register at all with me after the shot I just had.   “I have a flower??” I asked curiously.    “No,” he said. “You have a bag of flour.”   I’m sure he would have liked to punctuate that with “you dummy!” Fred Sanford-style.   He was actually very nice and gave me a free beer for being a “good sport” with his earlier teasing about all the “flour” on me.

Hashers spotted a picture of Elvis behind the bar and began taking pictures of Stan going down on him… this eventually led to more “Stantics” with random strangers at the on-after at Lucy’s.  I wont describe the scene here, but you can see some pictures for yourself posted on the site.  I think they will be self-explanatory.  

 

 

“I have an exceptional palate” – Mayor Quimby

“I lost my tonsils in ‘nam” – Virgin Pimp

“I drink any shit that’s cheap" – Lick Hymen

 

 

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