BFM #181 – Winkie’s Last Stand

Posted on August 15, 2007

We had heard about it - the first time when he was accepted to grad school. Then, it came as random reminders as the summer progressed. This week, we heard about it every bloody day - Winkie’s last hash with the BFM. Maybe they came because they wanted to hash. Maybe they came because they were thirsty. Maybe they came because they wanted to hear Sloppy Ho sing Don’t Stop Believin’. Maybe they came to get out of the rain. Or maybe, just maybe, they came because they were sick of the emails. But they came…
 
Big Tackle, Cause for Blindness, Cousin It, Cunting Season, Dry Hump, E = My Cock 2^, Europee’n on Me, Fiber Opdick, Hold the Sausage, Holy Fuck, Insane in the Membrane, Jingle Ballzzz, Likes the Hard One, Little Fucking Winkie, Little Red Riding Wood, Lunar Digit, Mayor Quimby, Mr. Snuff Up a Muff, Mulva, Nappy-Headed Ho, Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass, Poop Weiner, Popeye’s Bitch, Rear Engineer, Skin Fiddle, Sly Fox, Softcore Analyst, Son of a Goat Fucker, Sloppy Ass Kisser, Sloppy Ho, Strap-On, Suck Yer Dad, Taint Me, Tastes Like Chicken, The Rash, Virgin Pimp, Well Hung Jury, Just Brian, Just Chad, Just Diane, Just Chris, Just Joe, Just Jenny, Just Kyle, Just Anastasia, Just Jeremiah, Just Tima
 
I walked into Bonner’s and the party was in full swing. It felt like everyone and their neighbor came out to see Little Fucking Winkie off into the land of the Beerly Departed.  As I weaved my way through the mob, he was standing there, smack dab in the middle, big smile on his face, taking the moment in.
 
I spotted Just Diane, actually dressed in hash gear. Could she be at 100%?  Nope, not quite but she was walking trail.  I greeted and hugged our man of the hour as he happily snapped photos.  As I walked to stash my gear, I ran into Mayor Quimby.  His gal, Stan, was with him and she had some very peculiar white goo around her mouth.  I think Quimby was pimpin’ Stan out again to pay for parking.  However, Holy Fuck did point out that, otherwise, Stan’s been well cared for.  With gear stashed, Rear Engineer asked, partly to himself, partly to me, “wonder if I have time for a beer before circle?”  Nope.  It was time to circle up.
 
As the mob reconvened outside Bonner’s the rain began to fall. Sloppy Ho, welcomed the mob with her typical “snatch air-out” and called the virgins into the circle. Everyone looked around. Huh. With the numbers that had turned out, surprisingly, we had no virgins…probably because Winkie slept with them all. Instead she called for a volunteer to tell a joke. Mayor Quimby and Stan stepped up.
 
            A father and his daughter were in the bathroom preparing for the day. The daughter asks her father, “Daddy, when will I get a penis of my own?” the father replied, “when your mother goes to work.”
 
That sick bastard.
 
The pack was off into the rainy night. We headed up Samson and then over on 22nd.  As we crossed 22nd on Chestnut, I watched Just Mike practically take out a dude with a big white umbrella. We continued up Chestnut to 19th Street and then headed over to Locust. We headed down to 17th and then ended ujp at 15th and Walnut where we found our hare, Winkie, covered in white flour goo. Hey, wait! Stan had the same white goo around her mouth…. Winkie informed us that E=My Cock 2^ had caught him.  By now the rain was really falling.  Knowing our destination, we made a bee-line for McGillian’s.
 
Like a pack of rats that had just jumped ship, the mob filed in one by one, into McGillians. As I walked in the door, two large bouncers were sizing Holy Fuck and I up. I momentarily held my breath and then I heard the bigger bouncer say, “let ‘em in.” I exhaled, wiped the sweaty rainwater from my forehead and headed upstairs.
 
As we stood around drinking $5 pitchers of Coors Light, watching pre-season football and chatting with the Texas Hold ’em participants, we realized that somehow we managed to lose half the mob. What was even more curious was that we were missing our hare, E. We found ourselves with a bit of a dilemma on our hands. We didn’t have flour. Where would we pick up trail? Where did E go? We finished off the remaining pitchers and with no hare in sight, headed downstairs and out into the rain. As we gathered among the puddles, Sloppy presented our dilemma to the mob. It took no time at all for the mob to come to a solution: On-bar!
 
Hare(s):
Little Fucking Winkie
E=My Cock 2^
 
I was busy taking care of mis-management duties, like collecting hash cash, taking photos, buying beer and helping with the cake so I missed parts of circle.
 

Virgins:

 

Auto-hashers:

  • Cause for Blindness
  • Nice Nuggets…Fat Ass
  • Skin Fiddle

 

At some point during circle, the other half of the missing mob showed up.

 

Accusations:

 
Accusations opened the floor for stories about Winkie -
E gave a nice speech about how little work Winkie did as GM, and how he tells everyone that he started the BFM but others like Tastes Like Chicken, Cunting Season, and the beery departed Sarah, were all co-founders.
 
The Rash and Tastes Like Chicken threw in a few words…but I missed them!
 
Sloppy Ho then told the story about how Winkie was used by a virgin as a test drive for the dude she really wanted to sleep with.
 
Announcements:
 
The last official BFM circle for Winkie was closed. The mob headed out to do what it does best- drink beer…
 
On, On!
Europee’n on Me

Filed Under Trash |

Leave a Comment

If you would like to make a comment, please fill out the form below.

Name (required)

Email (required)

Website

Comments