Trash By: Down Down on the Brown Brown (who's fighting Corona...jk..he's drinking one to kill his fever)
Hares: Everything Butt Sex and Music To My Tears
Pack: Down Down on the Brown Brown, 3 Balls, Poly Pocket, Groundhog Lay, Tits of Steel, Not In My Hair, Jewels of Duh Nile, Fort Dixalot, Knights of the Pound Table, Cuff Me the Vampire Player, 60k9, Angry Inch, Tinklebell, Cream My Ream, Jug Stain, Judge Doody, Gulliver's Tranny's (H5), Just Joshua (BH3), Just Angeline (BH3).
[Camera zooms out, to the narrator of this week's trash, shivering like a dying pocket pet in bed with covers up to his moobs]
[Wise, charming, sick af narrator sips his Corona while battling corona, coughs on his dog, and thrusts forward to tell his tale]
It was your average night when the pack assembled in Cavs. Once we saw Groundhog Lay, stuffing his face with wings while engaging muggles, we knew this would be a true shit show (i think he would later poop on trail or at least get himself off in a porta john, I think that was the fellow's name). The pack gingerly filled the bar, reported pupper petter and rac*st 3 Balls jogged in, then Poly Pocket (dressed to impress), Jug Stain brought her telephoto lens, Judge Doody graced us with his ferocious stache, the tall drink of water Gulliver's Tranny even showed up. After a late start, because what good is a hash, if not for starting late, we circled up outside as Tits of Steel and kind of Groundhog Lay led a chalk talk that featured BFM's hash pupper Won't Cum for the Clap cleaning her anal glands all over the marks...what an attention whore. The pack introduced themselves, the sexual tension rose, and off they went.
Almost immediately, the pack found marks and lost them...those hares EBS and Music to My Tears, such precotious hashers...we turned left, we turned right, tech on trail rung out into the night and after making 69 wrong turns, we were joined by Cream the Ream...he found us and trail. Kudos to this very beer-dehydrated hasher, bc none of us could decipher trail. As he joined and Down Down thought he knew where he was going--he did not--we realized we were missing someone and we also saw weird ass marks on the ground in blue chalk. Fucking Jewels.
The Tale of Jewels
As the pack ran off in wrong directions, a cold shivering Jewels regretted wearing short shorts. He knew showing off his thighs might be a solid move, but it was slightly colder than he expected. He crossed street after street, looking scared and needing friends to drink with, but with every turn, he didn't find friends, just darkness and cold.
He made it to 30th Street Station, made friends with some food truck vendors, until they were jealous of his short shorts, and he realized they weren't really friends, they wanted him to come on tour with him and serve hot dogs. Wiping tears from his eyes, he continued on to Drexel, drawing marks he knew would confuse his brother from another mother Down Down, and in turn the pack. After grinding on the Drexel dragon, several more breakdowns along the way he found the Shot Near in some park and waited to mansplain his errors or success to the pack.
A Case of the Blue Balls
While Jewels was grinding on the Drexel Dragon, the pack was figuring out:
a.) who made the blue chalk marks
b.) discussing if the marks we're balls
c.) analyzing whether the long marks meant true trail
d.) wondering what cuddle puddle Jewels was in and wondering why some of the pack weren't there
They followed the new marks the best they could, and kept their eyes open for the sadistic marks left by the hares. This was a science experiment with a only slightly happy ending (see urban dictionary, it's a thing) and no escape.
The pushed ahead into, idk where, somewhere by 30th street and probably thanks to tech on trail, found the Shot Near, which also had cookies. There was much rejoicing, shots were had, the furry beast was let free to chase her--at time of publication--still alive but suffering owner around the grassy knoll. It was a merry time, and the pack socialized like nobody else. They went back across the river, with morale boosted and knowing they'd be back in the bar soon.
The River of Dream, the Circle Also Featuring Cream the Ream
The went made it across the river and down to the bike path, where some kind of tropical drink was waiting with more cookies, YAY...treats! Groundhog Lay made some moves on the hash pup, she accepted, the pack thought about going down to the water but in their state, they declined. After a bit of socializing and banter, they took off, only to lose trail. The FRBs, 60k9, DDBB, Groundhog, Jewels, and wtf---Poly (with a interesting stride), considered going to Bonners but they realized they were almost back and then 60k9 had enough of Down Down, abandoned him and his pupper, and raced to Cavs. As we got to the street...Won't Cum burst out of her collar almost went splat but was put back into her transport for a holiday with Magically and Sphincter Grease (redound trailer NOT included). It all worked out and circle was commenced.
The hares took a lot of shit from the pack, but they're so likable (normally), that all-in-all, they were let off the hook. Judge Doody is no longer a backslider...for some reason Just Angeline keeps cumming back to us (I was told it's bc of the pupper), Down Down on the Brown Out...haha...was called into the circle for usual BS a couple times...who dat? Jewels got called in during all three rounds of accusations, 3 Balls was commended for not leaving the pack, some evil af Barbershop Quartet was summoned from the hell that is Rittenhouse...it was beautiful and bootyful...Cuff Me the Vampire Player raised her voice...Tits of Steel led the pack in the shortest version of El Camino this experienced hasher has ever heard...and $5 was offered to swim across the river, most of the pack said they'd do it for 20? Lol.
Food was order and sport drinking commenced...then...as we thought things were over...something extraordinary happened. We found out it was Cream the Ream's birthday, and for spending the night with us (and for catching up, which again, is amazing), we decided to give him a birthday down down, so the hariettes, clumsily but successfully hoisted up Cream for a Birthday Down Down, almost dropping him twice--it's a custom here--and sent him off on his 22nd birthday way, as chocolate moose was had, and the parking lot transaction with the pupper was finalized.
[The narrator passes out from sickness, spilling his corona all over himself]