Oh the days of old, where a man or lady (who you calling a lady) used to simply show up to the hash wearing whatever athletic attire they had laying on their floor from the week before. But not today; not under the reign of Fort Dix, where presumably every day is a day for dress-up and merriment based on one random factoid or another. This week's hash was brought to you by the letter "S" for school; the reason for the glorious return of a million, bajillion undergrads to the streets and bars of West Philly. And so we joined those students the best way we could, by going to one of their cheap bars and wearing what experience, or the media, has told us students wear. That means catholic school girl outfits and one pajama-clad representative from Northeast Philly (cause that's how they do).
A whole bunch of hashers decided that they would descend upon West Philly this week and partake in the debauchery of the hash. Trail was laid by none other than your RA-extraordinaire, Slothy Seconds, and her TA compatriot, Just Kelly. J. Kelly is now no more, but more about that a little later. Trail wobbled and weaved throughout all aspects of West Philly, from campus life at Drexel and Penn, to the Ethiopian quarter where we had our beer near at Dahlak. Nothing better than outside seating at a rando Ethiopian restaurant where the bar essentially refuses to recognize us or serve us until the bar gets so filled with hashers that we're a force to be reckoned with and we get that liquid libation we've all been seeking: beer (and water of course because we have some serious racists in our midst).
Not to be forgotten, although I usually do, we had a shot check and not any ol' shot check, but more accurately a Rosé wine gummi-bears check. Hundreds of those little bastards were shoved in people's mouths and Goose even found the time to eat approximately 14 of them off the pristine Philadelphia streets (sidewalks to be specific). No Rosé-flavored wine gummi left behind, that's what he always says. Anywho, after some awesome beer and gummi-bear checks the pack slowly, but surely hobbled its way back to the basement of Cavanaugh's University City for circle.
Circle was brought to you by our fine friends at Rolling Rock and some other beer that I can't quite remember. But we had many pitchers of it, and for $7 each no less, 50 cents better per pitcher than your hard-bargaining GM had negotiated. Oh, did I forget to mention this was based on the beer special posted on the wall, no haggling required. Good negotiating there Dix.
After a few rounds of accusations and a take over by our good friends from LVH3 we moved to our favorite part of the evening: telling Donald D*ck to stop talking in circle, no that's not it, oh wait that's right - naming J. Kelly.
Drumroll please .....................
The BFM is proud to present to you:
All in all a great night hashing with hashers from near and far (I didn't forget you Carolina hasher, err maybe).
Til next time,
Gay Matthews Lamb