BFM# 215: * + FBN = WTF?!
Posted on April 7, 2008
+FBN
This was the mark that greeted me upon my arrival at Kellian’s West. (Not to be confused with Kellian’s East, the site of the huge cockroaches and ghetto trail) I walked in to see our new quiet man Raidr, sweet-talking a local hottie, as well as Short Distance Rimmer and Dublin Dick (from Hockessing H3). I asked them what the cryptic markings meant outside, and we were pretty sure it meant a False Beer Near, which didn’t make much sense since we had beer already there in the bar, but we decided that maybe the marks were there for chalk talk. How prophetic that banter would prove to be.
Maybe the + was a new symbol for our checks. Who knows?
While I was pondering this, the rest of the mob started showing up, Fiber Opdick leading them. Well, not really LEADING them, I meant he just showed up first, followed by Anal, Up Her Ali, etc.
While there I observed the following exchange between Sloppy Ass Kisser and the bartender; she was showing him her GRADE SCHOOL SWEATS! Now think for a minute about this. OK, she still fits in her sweats from grade school. AND she has sweats that are at least six years old. Two words, hon., GOOD WILL. Besides, if I were to put on my clothing from 8th grade, it would look like that great “Fat guy in a little suit” moment from “Tommy Boy.”
THE IDIOTS WHO SHOWED UP:
Raidr, Nappy Headed Ho, Short Distance Rimmer, Fiber Opdick, Anal Pro Boner, Up Her Ali, Rear Engineer, Just Laura, Likes the Hard One, Mary Fucking Poppins (Blue Hen H3), Doggy Erectus (Hockessing H3), Sloppy Ass Kisser, Sponge Bath No Pants, The Rash, Just Liz, Virgin Pimp, He’s A Lesbian, Son of Goat Fucker, Popeye’s Bitch, Fisted Sister, Major Piece of Ass, Little Red Riding Wood, Fire Down Under, Jingle Balls, Strap-On, E=My Cock Squared, Stunt Dick Double, Mother May I, Coxxx on Demand (EDWH3), 2 Clump Chump, Cousin It, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Wheres My Vagina, Soft Core Analyst, Dublin Dick (Hockessing H3), Stern Em and Wrecked Em, and virgins Just Jeff, Just Kate and Just Katie,
As we were getting ready to think about running this great pre-laid trail, a commotion was observed outside with the tell-tail flashing lights of two 18th District cars stopped at the corner of 44th and Spruce.
Now if you ever want to empty a bar full of hashers, do not yell “Fire” or, “Last Call” “On-On” or even “Chalk Talk”. When the cry of “Holy shit, is that NAKED WOMAN?!” filled the air, everyone there killed themselves to get out of the bar and look. The entire bar was emptied in .24 seconds, faster than a Google search for “Man being fucked to death by a horse”. Look it up, you know you want to.
Outside stood a light skinned black woman buck ass naked. And I mean no clothes, nada, barefoot and everything. I mean she might have had hair extensions, but that was it. It was like that scene in “Terminator” when the guy shows up naked, but sicker.
The sad thing is I had seen it before, from a naked woman directing traffic at Broad and Lehigh (and doing a better job than the cops I might add), to the naked girl who bounced a radio off her mother’s head, to the fat naked chick who threw me over the nurses station at Hahnemann, and then rammed her hand inside herself and flung vaginal blood at us screaming “I got AIDS, I birthed all you motherfuckers!” Ah yes, good times in the city. In fact, remember a period in 1998 when, as a cop, I wrestled more naked women at work in a month than off duty, kinda shows how sad my life can be.
While all these fun memories were floating through my head, almost the entire mob swore up and down it was Cause being scooped up. The woman had the same basic physical look as Cause, I think. Even Just Liz remarked, “Those look like Cause’s boobs.” I never even knew Just Liz had SEEN them, but hey, maybe. We decided that if Cause didn’t show up for the hash, then it WAS her being locked up.
Finally Our Hares, Likes The Hard One and Major Piece of Ass snuck out and sent us on their pre laid trail. Rear Engineer immediately called Chalk Talk and we all stood out in the rain to get briefed. Out three virgins were all excited and ready, especially the Just Kate and Katie duo, who seemed relieved after Virgin Pimp velcroed himself to them earlier.
THE TRAIL:
Well well, well, now I love a good goatfuck as well as the next guy, but holy shit!
Off we ran South down 44th Street, and kept running, crossing Pine, Osage, and into Clark Park, where someone spotted the trail heading East down Regent, then South on 42nd and East up Woodland, passing the SEPTA trolley stop at 40th.
During this time I heard a most unusual sound on the trail. I am used to hearing the following, “On-on!”, “Are you?” “Check!” “Looking.” “Onon called”, and even “Oh what the fuck! This trail sucks!” but I have never heard “Squeak Squeak!” before. I wondered what was going on, did someone have new shows that squeaked on the wet concrete? Then I realized that the squeaking was coming from Just Laura. She was squeaking something that sounded like Beer Near.
Sure enough, at the entrance to Woodland Cemetary, there was a BN pointing into the cemetery gate, which two University of Penn cops were locking. Wow, a false Beer Near, we were right!
No one could find the trail at all, and someone noticed it across the street, so off we ran back to the SEPTA platform and found the trail headed North on 40th, then West on Pine, then North on 41st, then West on Spruce back to the bar.
Cries of “That’s it?” filled the air, and for the first time someone actually had the balls to say, “Lets run it again!” as we all debated on what to do and where to do it. Some suggestions were heading back to the park and playing Jailbreak, Red Rover, Manhunt, or as Fire Down Under yelled, as she slapped me upside the head, “TAG! Youre it!” So I hit her back.
She didn’t talk to me the rest of the night.
Somewhere during this time the two virgins Kate and Katie vanished, along with our hares, who were MIA, and presumed trapped in the cemetary. A debate ensued over sending a rescue party out to the cemetery where we were sure they had been locked inside. A plot was hatched to jump the fence and free them, “Bring a Lawyer!” Anal Pro Boner said. Some more debate was being done on whether or not to bring a grappling hook, when in walked our wayward hares, cursing Michael Nutter for telling the cops to lock up the cemetery at night.
Now running a trail into a cemetery is one thing, but when you do it at NIGHT? AND have a beer check there AT NIGHT? Many a scary monster movie has started out on such a premise. Perhaps we got off lucky. I mean after all there are fences up around them. People put fences up around cemeteries because people are just DYING to get in. Chuckle chuckle snort snort KNARF KNARF KNARF!
TOTAL DISTANCE RUN: 1.52 miles. Insert your own comment here.
THE CIRCLE:
HARES: Major Piece of Ass and Likes The Hard One
VIRGINS: Just Jeff, (Coxx on Demand made him come)
VISITORS: Coxxx On Demand (EDWH3), Dublin Dick (Hockessing H3), Doggy Erectus (Hockessing H3),
FIRST IN/ LAST IN: Stunt Dick Double / the Hares,
COMES LATELYS: Mary Fucking Poppins, Just Laura, Son of a Goat Fucker, Nappy Headed Ho,
AUTO HASHERS: Sloppy Ho, Anal Pro Boner, Fiber Opdick, Up Her Ali, Fisted Sister (Who was trying to hide, nice try hon!) Sloppy Ass Kisser (under the when one sloppy drinks rule) and He’s A Lesbian (under the family member rule, we only SHARE the same last name, we aren’t related, ya fucks!)
At this point Cousin It tried to interrupt the circle to make some announcement, and was shouted down. E=MC2 tried to come to his defense by saying, “Hey, he just got back from laying trail last Saturday.” But whatever Cousin It had to say, it was lost. SEE BELOW
ACCUSATIONS:
Just Laura: Squeaking on the trail.
Cousin It: Whining in Circle
Sloppy Ho: For being a bad slopperazzi, and Sloppy Ass Kisser under the one Sloppy rule,
S&M Man and Fire Down Under: for racing during the trail. (LAME EXCUSE #869: “We weren’t racing, we just didn’t want to be last in.”)
Long Distance Rimmer: for fucking something up
BIRTHDAY: Fisted Sister got her side side
NAMING:
Just Laura was brought in to be named. During the questioning, when asked her favorite sexual position, a dead silence filled the air. It was like the old commercial, “When EF Hutton Speaks….” Apparently she is from Pittsburgh, plays the flute, met Rear Engineer at band camp, and went to Villanova, does clinical research with Goats or something, my notes a fuzzy here. Name suggestions were:
Ass Systant
Flute Fucker
Band Camp
Squeaks on Trail
Oil Me Up
Beeker (since she sounds like a muppet character)
Beeker, I Just Met Her
My Butt Felt Funny
Ass Flutist
Steelers Suck
VP of Fun & Games
Cum On My Tits (She had a shirt that said SCUM, but the S was unseen)
Pearl Necklace
The mob voted and she will henceforth be known as Cum On My Tits, Welcome, YFF.
OVERHEARD AT THE HASH:
“I went to Catholic school and all I have to show for it is a very naughty jumper”-Anal Pro Boner
“I feel used, like a tainted tissue.” –Cum On My Tits,
“Oprah likes Sloppy’s Breasts” – 2 Clump Chump
“If you ever hop a fence you need to bring a lawyer.” Anal Pro Boner (on a roll)
“Why’s that shit smell so good?” Fiber Opdick
“You’re bigger than me in every way, shape and form.” –Popeye’s Bitch to He’s A Lesbian.
“Who is Benny Hill?” Sloppy Ho
“Is that Cause?” – Everyone who witnessed the naked chick being locked up.
On-On
He’s A Lesbian
Filed Under Trash |
Leave a Comment
If you would like to make a comment, please fill out the form below.
