With the hash on South Philly, I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to walk to the hash. So, I decided to take my new bike out for a spin. This all seems easy, except I live on the 3^rd floor, it is a 45 degree angle up the stairs to my apartment, and my bike is really heavy. Despite the odds, I made it down the stairs without any major injuries.

 

The address of the Triangle Tavern is 1338 Reed Street. Thus, in Philly standard geography the bar would be at 13^th and Reed streets. Not so fast partner, this here is Southie. In Southie, we throw out the grid and do whatever the F we want to. We park where we want to, we label the streets however we want to, we smoke in bars despite the smoking ban; you get the drift you, you…Yankee!

 

Upon reaching the corner of 13^th and Reed, I wasn’t the only one lost. I ran into two equally confused folks, Just Billy and Two Clump Chump. After some scouting, we found the Triangle on the corner of Reed and Passyunk. Nifty Fifty’s used to be across the street but it has since been replaced by Rita’s Wadur Ice.

 

The participants in this week’s episode of Lost included: Sloppy Ho, Son of a Goat F*cker, Europe’en On Me, Just Laura, Just Kyle (who was named something, but I forgot the name), Snap On, Can U Hear Me Now, Two Clump Chump, Dry Hump, Teflon, Little Red Riding Wood, Just Liz, Popeye’s Bitch, Where’s My Vagina, Soft Core Anal-ist, S&M Man, Rear Engineer, Fire Down Under,

Sloppy Ass Kisser, Nappy Headed Ho, Bastard Child, Hold the Sausage, Flabbio, etc.

 

The bartender of the Triangle is awesome. He let Sloppy, Can You and I park our bikes inside. This calmed all of my fears of the relentless, evil Philly bike thieves.  

 

After fielding many calls from lost stragglers, Hold the Sausage began passing out the straws to determine the night’s lucky hare. The first round went awry when the short straw “accidentally” dropped to the floor. Where’s My Vagina pulled the short straw in the 2^nd round. Soft Core Anal-ist agreed to co-hare and they were off.

 

While waiting at the bar for the trail to start, some random thoughts came to me:

 

Teflon, back from NM, and Dry Hump, straight out of NJ, are good friends. However, they remind me of the clubbing pair from Saturday Night Live. You know the ones who tilt their heads to the side to the Baby Don’t Hurt Me song.

 

Europe’en was sporting a warm winter cap. It made me colder just thinking about how cold it is about to become.

 

LRRW was showing her Phillies pride with her cap.

 

Can You Hear Me Now was sitting pensively in a chair waiting for the run to start.

 

It was a smaller crowd than normal. Perhaps all were saving up their energy for next week’s bar crawl or they are too lazy to head South to Southie.

 

 

It was eventually time to start the trail. Sloppy ushered us out into the chilly night.

 

Sloppy mentioned some of our awesome special events coming up in December:

Hash 201 is actually the BFM 200^th. 200^th is Festivus. Got it bitches!

 

At some point during the intro circle, Dry Hump had his hands in his pants. I don’t think this is all that unusual.

 

Then, we were off. (You know, like a horse race)

 

We headed out down Reed St and were immediately check hung. This would be a theme for the rest of the trail. This group is never so close together on trail unless we are just plain lost. But…we were just plain lost during a majority of the trail.

 

The pack also needed a good lesson in Hash 101. When you are looking for trail and someone says, “R U?” you respond with “checking”, “looking”, and not dead silence. When someone calls “False”, don’t look so confused.

 

As we were check hung again in front of a Dry Cleaner, Two Clump made a funny. “Wow, it must be a dry cleaner since there are so many hangers.” (clever, very clever…)

 

As the run went on, the neighborhoods just got shadier. We knew we had to get to Mifflin and something for the beer check, but what and Mifflin? We knew Little Red Riding Wood would know, but where was she? Finally, we were smack in the ghetto. The neighbors seemed pretty entertained by us. Only one dude called us “Mother F*ckers”. I think he meant that literally. Mr. Snuffmysomething found some Herpes mattresses from a neighborhood crack house. Hey, crack addicts are people too!

 

Eventually, we found the trail and we were off again. It’s funny how we all get faster and quieter in the ghetto. We found Mifflin Street and the beer check. We were happy! The beer check was at Michael’s Place at 12^th and Mifflin. We all know what block Michael’s Place is on for future reference and we were not so far away from the start after all. It just seemed like forever on trail. Hmm, it confirms it; this area of South Phila really is the Bermuda triangle…

 

After the beer check, we headed back to the Triangle. We passed a nice neighborhood with a bunch of nice restaurants. In the middle of this nice street, there was a talking water fountain. It was crazy! (To add even more strangeness to our evening in the S. Phila Bermuda triangle)

 

Arriving back, the bartender bought us pizza. Again, he rules! Nothing like a few beers and free dinner, the Triangle rules, even though it’s part of the SPBT (South Phila Bermuda Triangle)  

 

 

First, we toasted the bartender for the free pizza and being generally cool. Then, we were down to bizness…

 

Hares: Where’s My Vagina and Soft Core Anal-ist. The trail didn’t have enough herpes mattresses, unmarked checks, and not enough time in the ghetto.

 

Virgin – Just Liz and she made herself cum. (woo hoo!)

 

Visitors – Teflon from NM and Flabbio from San Diego

Teflon told a joke we have heard about 10 times. Flabbio showed us his junk. We didn’t really need to see it.

 

First In – Little Red Riding Wood and she drank again for head gear in circle

 

Last In – Where’s My Vagina

 

Autohashers – Scams Old Ladies, Bastard Child, Mr Snuffamymuff (Stan Stealer!)

 

Long Time No See-ers – Nappy Headed Ho, Sloppy Ass Kisser, Teflon, Bastard Child

And when one sloppy drinks, and when one ho drinks – Sloppy Ho drank

 

Accusations:

 

Snap On was accused of whining on trail.

 

Flabbio was accused of bragging about overachieving with Sarah Cunter – beerly departed

 

Sloppy was accused of dropping her cell phone in the toilet.

Two Clump made his second funny of the evening, “So, I guess you made a lot of sh*tty phone calls)

 

Sloppy was accused of pointing in circle by S&M man. Then, he had to drink for pointing in circle.

 

Soft Core Anal-ist drank for his eyeglasses.

 

Hold the Sausage drank for giving us all bad directions to the Bermuda Triangle

 

Hares were accused of not marking an ‘F’ for falses

 

S&M man made some false accusation on the hash cash beer

 

Nappy Headed Ho and Fabbio drank for something

 

Where’s My Vagina was accused of losing her credit card at the beer check bar and finding it in her pocket

 

Rear Engineer drank for messing up a hash song

 

Bastard Child – Haring on Nov 10^th at his house in the lovely Brandywine Valley.

 

Holy F*ck It’s a Europe’en Oktoberfest – I hear it was a good time.

 

Snap On – Was playing in Manayunk on Saturday

 

Ski Trip – Register Now - $245 until Nov. (everything included, even a non-stop game of Tit Your It)

 

200^th Hash – Coming up in December and it will be better than the boat ride – bitches!

 

On the Date of the 200^th – Festivus

 

Next week – BFM Fall Bar Crawl – It will start at the Cherry Street Tavern and end at Cavanaugh’s River Deck – Be there and bring your party pants!

 

 

Not too much else happened. We drank beer. We socialized. We got drunk. We left.

 

On, on, YFF

 

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