Oh my god! Yes, Yes, YESSSSS!!!!!!
Fellow half-minds, the ABC trail can only be described as a love fest…an orgy of chalk and flour with a wave of bodies crashing upon center city Philly to leave the local muggles awe-stricken and the hares and hounds rolling in their oxytocin fueled delight. It’s hard (so hard) to say when the event stopped, as for some the magic carried through to the next day, but I’ll start at the beginning.
Our hares for this amazing journey were none other than Slothy Seconds and Silence of the Goats and there had been rumor of a sinister concoction spoken of only in whispers…”twinkle juice”. The pack was expecting an interesting night to say the least as they began to assemble in a private back room of Cav’s. This my friends is where things got “different”. Our normal attendees were stripping themselves of their muggle disguises and transforming to true form in any attire that did not resemble clothing. Our fearless leader Shop N’ Fuck fashioned a tunic from bamboo placemats. Silence of the Goats transformed into the embodiment of “race-ism” with ”69” runner numbers. Sex Toys For Tots found additional use for a dog food bag. Jewels Of Denile was determining whether one layer of shower curtain or two was needed to properly mask his manhood, as Statutory Consent took scissors to another shower curtain to fashion a very short poncho and belt. (Shop remarked that it may end up a little slutty and Statutory was pleased.) Judge Doody appeared to have either just stepped from the shower or the Hitchhiker’s Guide wearing towels and ready for anything. Everything Butt Sex, regally draped in blanket and wicker lampshade, proudly displayed his thrift shopping prowess. Blew Men In Groups brought the party game Twister to life with special attention to the blue circles of course. Me Shrub You Long Time arrived with a suitcase that was not containing “not clothes”, but did quickly contain Shrub himself, sans shorts. Visitor Dribbles Before He Shoots managed to find appropriate holes in a laundry bag which coincidently was the same laundry bag that Assassination found useful holes in. Not to be out “matched” visitors Glitterous and Parks & Masturbation arrived in coordinated beach bag attire, while Groundhog Lay affixed two pillow pets fore and aft of his pelvis (more later on where those pelvis pets ended up). Some of our hounds unfortunately wore actual clothes and are so shamefully listed here: Cuff Me The Vampire Player, Where’s My D, and Just Mike. Two virgins, Just Andrew and Just Maggie, joined us at the pre-lube and were enticed to stick around for the fun. Don’t fret if you missed your name here. Some hounds came later and some came after; but all who wanted to come definitely came.
Foreplay, dear hashers, is fundamental and the pack was sufficiently pre-lubed from the soft whispers and light petting of Cav’s back room. The muggles marveled at our lack of clothes as we walked through the bar to the street where, because we were now disrobed, Shop had promised to perform oral (chalk talk) on all of us. He’s so generous! We all met our virgins and discovered the internet made Just Andrew come who in turn made Just Maggie come. Shop’s tongue worked it’s magic and we were all enthralled by the white substance and edged toward the true trail. No release yet you excited hounds, there is trail to be had and with the “on-out” the pack was off and running. (As I started off I noticed an odd single purple nitrile glove on the ground…someone had brought protection.) The trail was a delight of hashers bodies and various housewares moving down the streets; in and out, in and out, in and out, of muggle foot traffic. The pack came to checks, they came to marks, and they called “ON-ON” so all the others could come too. It was an exuberant symphony of movement. At one point the pack encountered a family of German tourists of whom the patriarch had heard of a hash run, but wouldn’t bring his brood along (so he had probably heard correctly). The pack continued to Rittenhouse Square where they regaled the locals with a musical story of familiar lineage and transmissions (that’s a tranny right?). Searching for additional marks we were led to a long straight down Pine street to a park at 24thstreet where the infamous shot was waiting. We also discovered the protection minded hasher was none other than Slothy Seconds who wore a “no glove, no love” dress which fortunately had plenty of gloves to go around.
This is where the shot “twinkle juice” enters our tale and the trail took a figurative turn, towards epic! The juice itself contains milk, chocolate syrup, and apparently some grain alcohol and unicorn cum because it was potent and magically delicious. Late comers Roller Girl and Not In My Hair arrived dressed in matching pink and leopard print duct tape kilts. The only difference being NIMH was topless and Roller Girl had a duct tape tube top to contain her bosom, which Where’s My D used to hold and distribute her serving of “twinkle juice”. They had also brought Just Justin who MacGyvered up a blue tarp toga to partake in the night’s theme. The shot near was eventful and a welcome lull from the hard pounding action of the checking…we all needed to replace some fluids. Dribbles revealed he has a hasher son named Amber Bait who would be a perfect match for the fiery haired Statutory Consent especially considering the fabricated sexual preference for which she is named and the age of said son. Needles to say, she was intrigued by the idea and moistened by… the evening’s humidity. Shop and Shrub both became canvases for trail appropriate chalk art, and Sex Toys sat on a turtle and caressed a bear thus showing he is a true animal lover. The pack managed to finish the THREE jugs of “twinkle juice” and started back off on trail while Statutory remarked “I’m drunk, all of a sudden.”
Rejuvenated by the juice and once again full of vigor the pack ran again, lithe bodies glistening in the night’s illumination. We came upon a very large bird bath (fountain) in which some of the hottest hounds cooled their heads, we sang a song I didn’t write down, and we encountered a hasher from another kennel (LVH3?) who decided she would rather eat fro-yo than subject her friends to our big fucking mess. The pack set off again and shortly came, yes again we came (sooo good), upon a playground where many stopped to enjoy slippery slides and suspended swings. Little did we know that just beyond that frivolity lay the beer near and some were already relishing in the nourishment of our favorite drink. The park in which the beer hid was well known to our kennel. It was there that Where’s My D lost herself to the dogs and Blew Men In Groups was recently named, so very appropriately both ladies proceeded to invade the dog run area and molest all the puppies. The invasion was not one sided though as the dogs sent an actual hound (picture Trusty from Lady & The Tramp) to investigate Sex Toy’s kibbles and bits. Roller Girl, very amused at her duct tape creation, reminded us of the method by which she served Where’s My D her shots and proved to effectively do the same with canned beer much to the refreshment of Sex Toys and Shrub. The hot night made the cold drink disappear rather quickly and we knew the only place for more to be had was the on-in so once again the pack was off. Along the trail Just Maggie revealed that she was indeed having so much fun her cheeks hurt (odd that I didn’t remember a slap check). We returned to Cav’s with endorphins gushing, muggles bemusing, and thirst growing. While circle beers were being poured Parks & Masturbation admitted she had forgone her beach bag “one mile deep” due to chafing, Dribbles said to Shop “I came because of you” and Shop replied “You can put it in my ass anytime.” Some of our kennel came very late, but again we are happy that they came at all. 60 K9, Three Way Stop, and Emo Kid were all present for circle but unfortunately wore actual clothes.
We apologize for the length and tone of this trash. Those responsible have been sacked. Recording of circle was done at the last minute, in a completely different style, and at great expense.
Assass accused someone (probably Silence of the Goats) for race-ist attire.
Sex Toys accused Dribble of looking homeless in laundry bag and confusing people.
And when one matchy-matchy drinks… (so Assass also drank).
Sex Toys accused Shop of actual clothing aka 16th century Samurai.
Shop accused the gingers of soulless-ness.
Where’s My D - …didn’t like (?).
Not In My Hair - something about pics in circle.
Groundhog Lay accused Where’s My D of going after all the puppies (including the one on his ass?).
Shop accused Where’s My Sex Playground of “all greens make everyone wet.”(?)
Buttsex rebutted “not all greens”.(?)
Shrub commended Cause For Blindness(even in her absence) of having the creepiest rendition of “I fucked a dead whore”.
Sex Toys accused Shop of “I wear my sunglasses at night”.
Blew Men accused Shrub of the cum on his suitcase.
Groundhog Lay – drink everyday but two (?)
Shop accused Three Way of being way too fancy.
Silence of the Goats was accused of not mentioning Mayor’s Cup, so she promptly mentioned Mayor’s Cup.
Somebody referred to Slothy’s dress saying “Please do not wash your condoms and reuse them”.
Virgin Andrew accused all of seducing him to the dark side, and he approved. “Initial impression you are all idiots, but I love you.”
The auto hashers were accused of missing all the fun.
Sex Playground accused Roller Girl of making a kilt but not treating it like a real kilt. 😉
Sex Toys accused Slothy of looking like a German shepherd puppy with one ear up and one down.
There were puppy jokes for a while.
Assass accused Slothy of losing parts of her glove dress along trail.
Slothy and Goats cheered for anarchy in the hash.
Assass accused Shop, “Shop stood up and I thought a table fell over”.
Judge Doody remarked ”We got a taste of SlothyGoats! We want more!”
The hares were accused/commended for shitty trail/amazing outfits. #nailedit
The virgins were commended of choosing the Anything But Clothes trail for their first. =No Clothes Win
Two new virgins were introduced. Just Kurt and Just Rob: SlothyGoats made them come.
“We couldn’t resell these patches” (SexToys?)
It’s a Slothy Goats hash!!
Shop commended the Sloth Goat guest RAs “You make it look easy”.
Jewels – Something about twinkle juice!
Slothy accused Just Kurt of claiming to have run with the Fishtown “hashers”. (No such thing!)
Much booing from the pack.
Groundhog accused Slothy of bullying virgins.
Sex Toys accused Just Kurt- something fallout boy. (?)
Shop accused Sex Toys of something about a lie regarding the fallout boy accusation.
Just Maggie accused Just Andrew of making her come to such craziness, but she loved it!
Sex Toys remarked “after we sucked a wad out!”
Announcements: MAYORS CUP!! (shocking) and 10/26/18 Philly Full Moon Hash (Rocky Horror Picture Show)
We apologize again for this new style of trash. Those responsible have also been sacked and the original hired back on at even greater expense.
Circle was a wet hot mess of action, emotion, comedy, love, laughter, some clothing, and a lot of not clothing. The events of the evening dwindled and some hares shuffled off presumably for a post hash-coital smoke, some stayed to converse with dear friends, and some made their way to the bar to continue into the night. One thing common to all the pack at that point was they had shared an energetic release. The endorphins produced by our hashy love-fest rushed into all our blood streams, mixed with twinkle juice, and raced back to our hearts in the most wonderful and warming way. Some of our kennel were so emotionally moved that they felt the freedom to share those feelings with us and write love letters to the BFM. One hasher awoke on an unknown couch while clutching a Groundhog “pelvis pet” in safety and comfort because the kennel had taken care of them. (Another hasher took the other “pelvis pet” home to be washed.) A visitor was so enamored that they barely made their flight home, but made it they did. We certainly all felt the rush of the twinkle juice powered, anything but clothes, hash orgy. But, moreover my dear hashers, many of us felt a long lasting warmness after the hormones subside that is the difference between hash-gasm and hash-love.
BFM is now the Marvin Gaye of kennels so “Let’s get it on-on. Let’s love, baby.”