BFM #297: 5th Anal Hallowinkie Hash: Fools on Parade
Yes, it’s the return of the 5th Annual Hallowinkie Hash! The hash where you can dress like a complete fool and no one will judge you! Which, frankly, is not technically that much different from other hashes, but hey.
The Mob congregated this evening on the second floor of Wooly Mammoth, where Meg the bartender was thrilled to see us. And we were thrilled to see her! She’s very nice and definitely put up with our nonsense so if you’re ever out on South Street, stop in. Hashers milled around pre-gaming and alternately admiring each other’s costumes and/or trying to guess what they were. And, in case you were wondering, here they are:
Target, as Himself
Son of a Goatf*cker, Also as Himself
Rear Engineer as a Giant Banana with Maracas, and one of the costumes this evening that also incorporated an audio element (“Peanut butter jelly time, Peanut butter jelly time, Where he at, Where he at, etc.”)
Cleavage to Beaver as Marie Antoinette
Fruit of the Clue as an Arab of some sort, also with an ululating audio component that we could’ve all done without, thank you, Fruit.
Midnight Tranny to Georgia as Fred Flintstone
Reginal Discharge as a ghost
Flounder in a defiant “This IS my costume T-shirt”
Cause for Blindness as “Mr. Jackson’s Worst Nightmare”. Cause also gets two points for guessing my costume by naming the actress who wore it (Elsa Lancaster) before I even broke out the wig.
The Rash as Bride of Frankenstein (as played by Elsa Lancaster, who none of you know anyway, but hey it’s my trash.)
Short Distance Rimmer in the Most Offensive Costume Since Little F*ckin’ Winkie’s Green Dress Appearance as “Special Winkie”
Hold the Sausage as a Reverse Cowgirl
Sleeps Around the Cock as a Ghostbuster
Just Bill as Hawkeye Pierce, his childhood hero, apparently
Mediocre and Stupid as The Gum On The Bottom Of A Shoe
Three Balls as Caesar
Grab My Handlebars as a disturbingly convincing Paul Bunyan
Two Clump Chump as a disturbingly convincing Balloon Boy, a costume which involved an aluminum roasting pan that we later figured out could double as both a drink holder and an ashtray
Sly Fox as a Beer Wench
Where My Vagina as Radioactive Woman
Just Joanna as a Giant Stripper (not in height, in circumference)
Just Lisa as An Elf
Just Carrie as a Crocodile Wearing a Tutu, Which Just Happened to Be in Her Closet
Just Ed as a “Terrorist” or a “Guy wearing a Youth-sized Dress Shirt on His Head”, take your pick
Mr. Snuffleupamuff as a Remarkably Convincing Flasher
E=MyCock Squared as an FRB
Chernoblow as a Whoopee Cushion, complete with her own sound effects
Jingle Balzzz as The Elf, a costume which consisted of the most unsettling velvet shorts I’ve seen since the time I went to that male strip club in Niagara Falls
All in all, one of the better costume years for the Mob. Hold the Sausage shouted at everyone to get outside for chalk talk, and the Mob strapped on the last bits of their costumes and wandered downstairs, where the first floor bar crowd paid absolutely no attention to us, because Game 2 of the World Series was on. After the requisite instructions, the Mob headed off in the direction helpfully pointed out by Rear Engineer, who had pre-laid the trail earlier. Pre-laying trail has become de rigueur for the Halloween hash ever since the first trail. The wanker who pulled the short straw that time was dressed as a satyr, a costume which basically amounted to furry shorts and a tail. After the Mob got going on trail, a bemused police officer was overheard by an FRB, radioing in “I’ll be right there, I have to go arrest this clown running around in a monkey suit first.” So, yeah. Pre-laid trail from then on. And trail this evening went east and south, toward the South Street Bridge, then wound back north, right behind Independence Hall, to Market Street, through City Hall, and then onto to the first beer check at McGillin’s, with everyone relying on E=My Cock Squared to find trail.
Except that it was not to be. Even though owner knew we’d be stopping by, also stopping by were the wall-to-wall Phillies fans out to watch the game. There was no way we could shoehorn ourselves in, so the Mob sucked it up and scampered off to the next beer check. Well, most people sucked it up. And here’s where I’d like to break for a brief rant. It’s actually a legit one this time, too, so gather round real close. I overheard a whole volley of complaining about the scrapped first beer check. You know, kids, a hash does not operate perfectly every single time. Frankly, we should be impressed that a bunch of half-minds like us can operate our own pants every single time, let alone organize a whole hash every week. But sometimes when something goes mildly wrong, like tonight, there has been some serious, ridiculous b*tching and it is usually by someone who has not done poop: planned a hash, run a beer check, laid a trail, and/or who does not quite understand what it’s like to herd a bunch of wankers who have the collective mentality of a pack of mules, but are considerably less useful. And this is some horsesh*t of which I am tired. You cannot come out and expect to be entertained without having to do anything in return. So! Sack up, motherf*ckers, because if I catch you whining like a beeyotch again because you can’t go 15 minutes without having a warm PBR I will do everything in my considerable power to make sure that you will be laying trail like it’s your job for the next few hashes. Or something. Creative and warranted b*tching as well as making untrammeled fun of Tickle My Elmo, however, is still encouraged and expected.
Ok, so back the happy fun bit. The next beer check was extremely close by at Lick Hymen’s place where Lick was waiting for us dressed as a Suicidal Yankees Fan. Despite the proximity, the Mob still managed to break up into four groups and take four totally separate paths to the check, including one that meandered through the Venture Inn where I think someone got a date. After 15 minutes of swilling Tecate and checking the score, the mob was back on trail to get back to Wooly Mammoth’s and more beer.
Arriving in the meantime were:
One Inch In as a Felon
Deep Discunt as a Phillies Bunny
Bansai Bush as a Golden Shower
Tube Cock as Meat Curtains, and who was also nice enough to share the meat from his curtains
I-69 as A Frigid B*tch or an Ice Princess, depending on who you ask
Goes Down Often as a Playboy Bunny
Just Ari as Himself
Snap Off as an Overachieving Ass-Clown
S&M Man as someone from Battlestar Galactica
Nappy Headed Ho as Day Man! (enemy of the Night Man!)
A new round of admiring/figuring out costumes ensued as Reginal Discharge wrangled everyone’s hash cash and started supplying the Mob with beer.
The Circle
Hare: Rear Engineer
Virgins: Just Joanna, Just Lisa, and Just Carrie, all courtesy of Chernoblow
First In/Last In: Mr. Snuffleupamuff, Midnight Tranny
Hat Violation: Muff
Comes Latelies: Lick Hymen, I-69, Bonsai Bush, Deep Discunt, Three Balls, One Inch In, Son of a Goatf*cker, S&M Man
Hat Violation: Deep Discunt
Autohashers: Snap Off, Reginal Discharge, Nappy Headed Ho, Deep Discunt, I-69, S&M Man, Goes Down Often, One Inch In
No Costume: Son of a Goat F*cker, Just Ari, Goes Down Often E=My Cock Squared, Target
Violations
For wearing a codpiece: Nappy Headed Ho
For wearing an I (heart) Muff t-shirt: Reginal Discharge
For posting the wrong bar address: Rear Engineer
For being a Frigid B*tch: I-69
For (according to my notes) falling over a whore: Just Bill
For Overachieving Ass-Clownery: Snap Off
For New Shoes AGAIN (seriously, what is this, 3 times now? More than twice is a fetish, you know): Mediocre & Stupid
Trying to give herself a hash name: Just Joanna
Not getting into McGillin’s: Muff
For thinking Reginal Discharge was Two Clump Chump: Midnight Tranny, Fruit of the Clue
For overachieving: Goes Down Often
For becoming a Grandmother: Cause for Blindness
For exposing his…I can’t read my writing, so I’ll say “nalgas”: One Inch In, but this was declared acceptable hash behavior and accuser I-69 drank instead.
Birthday Side-Sides: Rear Engineer, Jingle Balzzz
Best/Worst Costumes
(The most interesting part of this contest was the fact that both prizes were a bottle of Mad Dog.)
Best Costume: Cleavage to Beaver
Worst Costume: I-69
Announcements
11/6 Philly Full Moon Zombies vs Vampires hash. I suggest you go as Rob Zombie. I would, but my beard doesn’t come in that full.
11/7 Sausage and Rimmer are haring for the Philly hash. You should go.
Lost and lonely on the holidays? Hashgiving at Bonsai Bush and Tube Cock’s place.
BFM 300th coming up soon!
Overheard at the Hash
Cause: “I am not naked.”
Passerby to The Rash: “Rock that weave, bitch!”
Deep Discunt: “I’m so used to him mooning. It was automatic……And his ass is sooooo much hairier than yours. It has, like, tufts of hair….The back of him is way more hairy than the front.”
Rear Engineer: ‘Somebody slapped my ass and my dick popped out.”
Bonsai Bush: “Everyone can shower at my place!”
On On,
The Rash
Nice rant. The Rash and her dominating demeanor has always instilled fear in me, in a S&M kinda way.
I love that not one, but TWO of you confused Reginal Discharge and Clump Clump!!
I yell because I care.
“Frankly, we should be impressed that a bunch of half-minds like us can operate our own pants every single time,”
I’m gonna have to go ahead and disagree with you on that one…ask Sausage about the number of times she has had to yell at me to zip up my fly before venturing outside…
Actually it was three – Rear, Tranny and Fruit (stop denying it, I heard you)