BFM #324: The Epic of Gallagher’s
As Philadelphia begins to shed her layers of winter, the mob slowing grows fat on fair-weather hashers coming out of the woodwork and racists using the hash as training for whatever event they plan to abuse their bodies at over the weekend. Gallaghers slowly filled with the likes of Big Tackle, Hold the Sausage, Can You Hear Me Now?, Bonsai Bush, Just the Brown Tip, Mayor Quimby, Rear Engineer, SheFelta Fish, Mediocre and Stupid, Working Girl and his lovely Sleeps Around the C*ck, Short Distance Rimmer, The S & M Man, Softcore Analist, Tube C*ck, Where’s my Vagina?, Two Clump Chump, Slutty When Wet, Snap Off, Up Her Alley, Just Clifford, Three Balls, Broken Rod, Son of Goatf*cker, Sub Cuntinent, Second Cumming, Is That a Penis?, Pen-Is in My Ear, Sloppy Ho, Orangabang, and Two Finger Tuesday. There, unable to run for sheer laziness was Deep Discunt, One Inch In, Broken Rod, and Midnight Tranny to Georgia as autohashers.
As we stumbled through the east Fairmount shiggy (who knew there was shaggy on this side of the river?!) and the hobo dens, the mob struggled to find trail as the darkness came upon the hills of lemon (it was dark – it was hard to see that it was that picturesque). A few trailed off to begin their plotting back at the bar, while the mob continued on for libations at a rather small bar on Brown, where the booths are small, the tables are wobbly, and the conversation consists of the balls of Sox that are red and plaid bridesmaid dresses (frightening!). Little did they know the tragedy that was to befall them as they left Krupa’s and headed on-in back to the bar.
Upon returning to Gallaghers, the stage was set for such an unexpected turn for the worst that we just started the…
Circle
Hares: Two Clump Chump and Three Ball
Virgins: Just Angela ala Slutty When Wet
…and The S & M Man then had to drink for pointing in circle
First In: Mayor Quimby
Last In: Pen-Is in My Ear
Visitors: Orangabang got lost on trail, returned and then left to find his counterpart. Upon his return, he chose the option and bared his ass but Two Finger Tuesday who had gotten thoroughly lost on trail returned first to show us a joke: his upper thigh…
Cums Latlies: Deep Discunt, Second Cumming, Sub Cuntinent, SheFelta Fish, Snap Off, Is That a Penis?
Autohashers: Deep Discunt, Midnight Tranny to Georgia, One Inch In
Accusations
Circle began with a grandiose speech from The S & M Man about how ashamed he was of his fellow hashers. You know, here at the hash we like to run some, as a conduit for drinking beer. We have some pretty low standards and we can deal with the likes of 5 miles. We can even accept 10 miles…20 miles… and though 25 miles is pushing it, we’ll take it. Even 26 miles is within the realm of reason. But when Hold the Sausage, Rear Engineer, Working Girl, Sleeps Around the Cock, and Short Distance Rimmer decided to push it to 26.2 miles, it just was just plain unacceptable – so the mob got an insurrection! I mean they rioted! They tore down posters, shattered mirrors – you should have seen Tube C*ck hanging from the rafters like a crazed guerilla, with a shank held between his teeth – as Second Cumming used his military skills to tie up the infidels and tickle them unmercilessly. Mayor Quimby joined in, pulling riot gear out of somewhere to bash heads and protect his well-styled hair. As Big Tackle tried to qwell the anger, he was tossed aside by the smashing of chairs and emptying of taps (Noooo….! Alcohol Abuse!) – Is That a Penis? even threw on battle paint (out of that little bag she carries on trail for her phone and what-not) and ravaged the kitchen, taking Pen-Is in My Ear hostage (not really sure how that sword fight went). The mayhem was immense, with SheFelta Fish and Son of Goatf*cker setting fires and Mediocre and Stupid standing in the middle saying, “What, what, what?” The mob razed Gallagher’s beer pong heaven to the ground for such a grievous offense.
The End.
Oh, wait… That wasn’t what happened? Hmm, must’ve gotten water on my notes. Well, I think I remember something about a moderately loud ruckus that was really a rousing round of, “Oh, There are No Real Hashers in a Marathon…” lead by our very own Rear Engineer. So since Gallagher’s was still intact, the accusations continued.
…as Tube C*ck joined the infidels on the “When One C*ck drinks…” rule
For bringing the 80’s back with her full-force pastels: Slutty When Wet
For once again carrying tech on trail (and threatening to just go home if trail was too long): Is That a Penis?
For popping my racist cherry on Broad Street: Grab My Handlebars
For hash-crashing into a stop sign: Softcore Analist
For being an overachieving ass-clown and taking Sleeps Around the C*ck off the market (and something about being off the Market himself, and disappointing the ladies): Working Girl
…and for agreeing to get hitched: Sleeps Around the C*ck
For racing Snap Off to be first in: Mayor Quimby
For admitting to Bonsai Bush that I wanted to drink for being a racist (hey! It was my first!): Grab My Handlebars
For generally looking sneaky: Son of Goatf*cker
For letting his bra straps hang out: Second Cumming
For being denied by the backdoor: Slutty When Wet and Sloppy Ho
For facilitating Just Clifford’s crack (aka ice) habit: Midnight Tranny to Georgia
For committing to being a racist but not following through: Pen-Is in My Ear
For laughing at Orangbang’s ass (it was a joke apparently too): Sloppy Ho [Declined]
…instead Tube C*ck drank for a false accusation – laughing is always appropriate and nice.
For saying that Tube C*ck couldn’t sleep with Sei’zer TiTs: Bonsai Bush
Announcements
Mayor Quimby: Bruce-a-Palooza will be Saturday, June 12th – sponsored by BEN FM. There will be beer, live bands, and much shinanigans – find them at Bruce-a-Palooza.com
Midnight Tranny: Prom! Lose your virginity in the parking lot all over again – Thursday, June 10th
Birthday Side-Sides
One Inch In
Deep Discunt
SheFelta Fish
And since Gallaghers was safe for another day, the mob left it peacefully (wasn’t there a bar fight outside? Hmmm..) – ok, at least moderately peacefully – but they glared over their shoulder(s) spitefully just once for good measure. And that, my friends, is the epic of Gallaghers.
On-On,
Grab My Handlebars
bonsai bush? why not? mr. snuff-YOUR-muff can sleep with you!
She just said I couldn’t “sleep” with you. But baby, you can rock my world all night long, then kick me to the curb. :O