Ok, so the end of the night rolled around, and I had just about almost pretty much decided that I had had a great time especially because this is one of the prettiest and most relaxing hashes of the year, what with the lights and all, and I didn’t need to write a rant in this trash, and I was actually so content that I didn’t even feel sad about it. Until two things happened. One: Deep Discunt told me not to write one as she headed out the door, and ordering me to do anything is like waving a gigantic sign to do the exact opposite (see T. Rash vs. V. Pimp, Re: How About Putting a URL Linking the Trash in the Email Announcing That it’s Posted? How About "No."), and Two: Oh, you’ll see. Just wait.

So this week’s hash started at the South Philly Tap Room. Showing up this evening were Softcore Analyst, H2Hoe, Just Mike, Mr. Snuffleupamuff, Rear Engineer, Deep Discunt, One Inch In, Flounder, Cause for Blindness, Sloppy Ho, Dancing Fool, Post Anal Discharge, Chernoblow, Reginal Discharge, The Rash, Sly Fox, Fruit of the Clue, WhiskeyDick, One Night Only, Cunting Season, Little Red Riding Wood, The Rash, Up Her Ali, Tube Cock, Snap Off, Naerosmith, Scooby Snatch, Fire Down Under, Just Pam, Bonsai Bush, Sleeps Around the Cock, Working Girl, Can You Hear Me Now, Sex Tonight, Denied!, Dublin Dick, Grab My Handlebars, Just Jose, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, Just Kate, Just Lauren, Just Anne, Goes Down Often, Where’s My Vagina, Mediocre and Stupid, Scammin Ole Ladies, 2 Clump Chump, and Dr. Squealgood.

Little Red Riding Wood was the hare for the evening, as she is for this hash every year. Tonight she had pre-laid two(!) trails, one for the r*nners, and one for the slacker walker types who were either slow, injured, or had forgotten to bring r*nning clothes (Reginal Discharge) After the obligatory blather about marks, the Mob was off to find trail and to Oo! excitedly at the lights. Trail wound through the most festive neighborhoods in the city, under sparkling canopies of lights strung over entire streets, past a slowly and dramatically rotating Christmas tree, past every inflatable holiday lawn thingy known to man, and arrived at the beer check. The beer check was the Blue Suede Bar, which has a stunning amount of (guess what?) Elvis memorabilia, and also a mysterious game sort of like vertical pinball which was in reality totally boring but it was beer-themed, so hashers immediately surrounded it like insects to a porch light and tried to figure out if they could make it give them beer. Upon discovering that it would not, in fact, dispense beer, the Mob stormed off all hurty and back onto trail. (There was beer at the bar. Just to be clear.)

Back on trail, the Mob ran through most elaborately decorated block in the city by far, with motorized mailboxes and a waving Santa in a sleigh, and gobs of lights and music and more lights and figurines and inflatable things that sparked Mob discussion about who, exactly, organizes all of this, and what their PECO bill is. Impressed, but chilly and wanting more beer, the Mob hustled back the the Tap Room and proceeded to clamor for beer.

Once the beer and Mob were wrangling, the Circle was cranked up:

The Circle

Hares: Little Red Riding Wood

Virgins: Just Pam, via Bonsai Bush

Visitors: Naerosmith, who serenaded us with a heartfelt rendition of one of the filthiest songs I’ve ever heard, ever, and that’s saying something.

First In, Last In: Up Her Ali, Whiskey Dick

Cums Latelies: Sloppy Ho, Sly Fox, Dublin Dick, Sex Tonight, Denied!, Chernoblow, Fruit of the Clue, Dr Squealgood, Can You Hear Me Now, Cunting Season, Goes Down Often, Just Jose

Autohashers: He’s a Lesbian

Accusations:

Hash Crash: One Inch In

Hash Crash AND Destruction of Property: Fruit of the Clue

Race Shirt: Scooby Snatch, Post Anal Drip, Mediocre & Stupid, and under the When One Anal drinks rule, Softcore Analyst

For wearing a whole damn Santa suit: One Inch In

And under the when One Santa Hat drinks rule: Snap Off, Where’s My Vagina, Cause

For Wearing Elf Pants: Fruit of the Clue

For being jealous of Working Girl‘s pearls: Mediocre & Stupid

(And just an aside here, Working Girl does have the most stunning pearl necklace hash necklace ever. EVER.)

For only coming once a year; One Inch In

For just arriving: Tickle My Elmo

For not putting his penis in Goes Down Often‘s bush: Whiskey Dick (look, I just write this sh*t down, people)

For decorating her bush: Cause for Blindness

And under the Decorated Bush rule: Bonsai Bush

For actually wanting Whiskey Dick’s penis: Goes Down Often

For the biggest pearl necklace in the metro area: Working Girl

For not having enough menorahs on trail: Little Red Riding Wood

False shoes accusation: Scooby Snatch

For bad grammar: either Goes Down Often or Midnight Tranny to Georgia, I can’t tell

 

And so the rest of the night was spent upstairs at the Tap Room, enjoying the festive holiday season, not wanting to go back out into the cold, and drinking the last of the beer. I was just about to leave, when I decided that one last stop at the ladies room was a good idea, and here’s my rant: Look, ladies, yes, a public bathroom, especially one in a bar full of hashers is probably not sterile. But is that any reason to PEE ALL OVER THE GODDAMN SEAT? Look, you don’t want to put your precious tuchis on it, fine. But there was plenty of toilet paper to create your own little cushion! Or to use to WIPE UP AFTER YOURSELF after you performed the four-inch hang about the seat and proceeded to hose it down with your pee. What the HELL? And how did you get it a a whole puddle full foot in front of the toilet, too?? Sweet Christ Almighty, we live in the United States, fer cryin’ out loud, you are not going to catch Ebola from parking your nalgas the whole way on the seat for 30 seconds. If I wanted to have strangers’ bodily effluvia on me, I would’ve never quit doing Scheisse porn.

F*ck it. I’m using the men’s room from now on.

 

Overheard At the Hash

 

Goes Down Often, excitedly: “This is where I met you! Remember!!!”

Dr. Squealgood: “Oh yeah!” [aside to Two Clump]: “What the hell was that?”

 

Tube Cock: “You only get herpes once.”

 

On On,

The Rash