It was a special treat that brought the slobbering hounds out to South Philadelphia for the first trail of a new month, and it had nothing to do with the return of the second laziest on-sec from Mis-Man 2019. No, my lovely harriers and harriettes, the draw was from promise of a trail to be hared by our very own (and reliably slow) Cause for Blindness!  In a precursor to International Women’s Day, she set upon the streets to flex her prowess and prove that neither gender nor age can constrict such a “queen of hashing” (accompanied by her helpful Knight of the Pound Table) from laying us all to waste with flour a plenty.
    
Not only were your regular cast of characters such as Cuff Me the Vampire Player, 60K9, Poly Pocket, and Not In My Hair enticed to cum, but a few visitors as well.  Gulliver’s Tranny and Hare Today Cum Tomorrow both made their way out from the chocolate scented hills of H5, Just Jackie trekked the tremendous distance from GrittyH3, and Cuff Me aroused a virgin (Just Chris) to venture a taste of our antics.  As the pack collected on the second floor we saw the likes of Everything Butt Sex, Groundhog Lay, AssAssInNation, MeShrubYou Longtime, Sergeant Snatch Snitch, Wheels on the Bus Go Down Down Down, Nibbles A Clit, Main Line Bukkake, The Angry Inch, Tinkle Belle, Jug Stain and Just Christine.  A few pre-lubed with beer (though none were drinking Coronas), and the bravest embraced each other in the way of hasher greetings. There may have been more, there may have been less, and there may have been some who need not be named…counting is hard and hugs are easy so some were clearly preoccupied.
              
The hares set off a little early and this trail began like most others with a description of the marks. The floured alphabet was nearly as legible as Cause’s accusations are coherent and it drove a cuneiform pun out of one of the more educated of us (they must have a three-quarter mind!). Groundhog Lay bunny hopped about the marks and explained the best he could to the newly identified visitors and virgin. The murmurings of a short and shitty trail emanated from the pack and we were quickly on-out to discover trail was not what we had expected.
              
Moving south one block, trail then turned west through some Philly shiggy (CAR!) and we quickly came to a song check. It seems that our hare was nervous of getting caught and rapidly brought us all close so EBS could lead a few verses of “El Camino”.  The excitement of the night’s venture really needs to be experienced in person.  The warming air of an approaching spring fills our lungs and the padding of our hounds down streets, through alleys, and into parks is our rhythm of the night punctuated by interesting sights.  Notable happenings were the pack giving a wide berth to our very own coughing Bukakke, Groundhog discovering an enchanting deep blue sea set into a basement window and later remarking about heat therapy to cure koala-mydia, Wheels stopping to admire a pussy, some uncoordinated group butt stuff, Sarge finding an ambulance that surprisingly did not yield the hare, and an additional six song checks. Yes…six…more…song checks. Our trail RA that night was remarkable and managed all resources to fill the air with melodic musings.  We sang of team work, and Poly’s description of some sex on trail inspired our “favorite things”.  In Hawthorne Park an empty Modelo can mocked our growing thirst and EBS egged us on to continue our “B-EE-RR-U-N, beer run”.  Soon after we sounded off about a soldier’s duty, a fondness of fun in the kitchen, and simply AAAAAAAA!  The hounds were now drooling over the thought of liquid sustenance. Hare Today Cum Tomorrow remarked that our hare ought to be named “Cause for Thirstiness” and Shrub contemplated that the night’s trail might be just drier than Cause’s wit.  Alas, the pack pressed on for there is no quicker a route to beer than to solve the marks and find trail true.  

Cause may be a fan of “North by Northwest”.  Perhaps is it the film’s prevalence in her formative years, the moistening inspiration of Cary Grant’s striking features, a fondness for all things Hitchcock, or a shared lust for adventure.  But whatever it be, may also be driven by a desire to go down (possibly on a sailor or two), because the pack found that all marks led south and west in turn until we struck a wall at the naval yard…south by southwest of our originating point.  Our intense thirst turned to resourcefulness and we made short work of the remainder of trail to quickly arrive at the BN…a bar known as Callaghan’s which has nothing to do with brake pads or sales trips. Inside the bar the most physical of us such as Jug Stain (who seems to find trail by either a sixth sense or sheer force of will) and Main Line were already sharing refreshment with both the hares and Diltdo Dragons (who is far smarter than we are fast).  Camaraderie and revelry are corner stones of the hash and a BN is the perfect chance to chat and catch up with friends and fellow hashers. 

The night was short and there was more trail to be had, so the hares reminded us that there was still a SN to find and outed themselves from the bar. We continued to enjoy the end of the beer and having given enough time to ensure another many song checks we left to regain the scent of our hares once more, anticipating that we would be led back in the direction from whence we came.  What fools we were The arrow showed further west and led directly around the corner to a secluded pull-out where Knights was loyally guarding the SN while Cause laid the remainder of trail. Trotting up, Shrub voiced concern that we had given them so much time and Knights must have been sitting out here in the cold for 20 minutes. No sooner had the word passed his lips than our gallant armored champion remarked “I’ve been out her for 20 minutes!” We passed around flagons of whiskey and fruity pebbles vodka knowing that no microorganism was safe from the proofed alcohol, and watched as some of the previously unmentioned trail phalluses came together to form an immense chalk member akin to either Voltron or the Power Rangers (depending on the viewers age and level of nerdiness). The remainder of trail went by quickly, but more so for some than others. Fortunately, all the hounds found their way back to the start where they also found Just Ali and Two Beds-One Nightmare who had cum late, but at least they came at all.

Circle was kicked off with commending Knights for his chivalry in accompanying Cause to keep the grim reaper at bay and then the regular observances of hares, first/last in, our virgin, auto-hashers and comes lately(s). Regarding visitors, we lost Hare Today, but gained Just Jackie who flexed her musical seat to much delight and Gulliver’s Tranny sang for us of why he was born so beautiful.  Accusations a plenty satiated the packs grievances and thirst. Half-minds were called out for use of nerd names, sitting in circle, marking trail, and defiling cups. We discovered that Sarge can’t spell, Wheels is overly generous with the use of beads, and somebody marked trail with a bunch of dicks.  60K9’s birthday was celebrated with a compulsory side-side and circle closed to bring our night to the beginning of the end.  This new hash year of the BFM is shaping up to be a glorious one and the early spring also brings brighter evenings to find the marks and chase the hares. Cum out dear hashers and be a part of the revelry for it is the hare that makes the trail, but the pack that makes it exciting.

ON-ON!

-Shrub

BFM #837 Cav's Rittenhouse

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).

Trash:

[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]

A very fun, very COLD, very well-attended hash last week provided the first opportunity for me to write trash. Thanks!

​-Poly Pocket

BFMH3 trail #836
Location: Starboard Side Tavern, Fishtown
Hare: Knights of the Pound Table
RA: Tits of Steel/ Slothy Seconds
In attendance: Cuff Me the Vampire Player, Fort Dix, Cause for Blindness, Wheels on the Bus Go Down Down Down, Cream the Ream, You May Go, Down Down on the Brown Brown, Jewels of Duh Nile, Teeter Twatter, Gay Matthews Lamb, Tits of Steel, Slothy Seconds, Knights of the Pound Table, Poly Pocket, JustAngeline. Autohash: DILTDO Dragons, Not In My Hair, Jug Stain

We met at a bar called Starboard
In Fishtown so oft unexplored
Awkward greetings galore
Finally got out the door
Searching for trail and our liquid reward.

Beer near: regaled by You May Go
His naming story he did bestow
​He popped a girl’s cherry
Made her leave in a hurry
Surely converting her for Sappho.

Then a foxy lady named Tits
So cold she almost called it quits
Found a place for her thumb
So it wouldn’t go numb
Showed her wisdom quite infinite.

A check with a dire lack of dance
Saved by Slothy and her fancy pants
She taught them all to floss
Obviously the boss
Of this very odd circumstance.

Another stanza to feature our Slothy
Where she shared a little tune quite jaunty
Singing about cosmic sans
While scaring pedestrians
With lyrics both flirty and flaunty.

At shot near, our lovely hare Knights
Much to FRB ladies’ delight
Managed to blow his load
When his stash did explode
And while helping clean we all got frostbite.

BFM Hash Trash, BFM #835
 
Written By: Down Down on the Brown Brown
 
The Hares: Poly Pocket and Sex Toys for Tots
 
The RA: Groundhog Lay
 
The Pack:
 
Knights of the Pound Table, Me Shrub You Long Time, Down Down on the Brown Brown (DDBB), Roadside ASSistance, Everything Butt Sex, 60k9, Tits of Steel, Not In My Hair, Jug Stain, Sphincter Grease, Wheels on the Bus Go Down Down Down, Cuff Me the Vampire Player, Statutory Consent, Angry Inch, Tinkle Bell, Cause for Blindness, Cums In Spurts (Dayton H3), Repeat Offender (Shanghai H3), and after his first trail—ever—Just Shane.
 
The Trash:
 
Chapter One:  The Best of Times, The Drunkest Of Times
 
It was the best of times, it was the drunkest of times.  It was also the first trail of our new GM Cuff Me the Vampire Player’s reign of silence and unlimited rummy bears—that was definitely her platform, right?  On a snowless winter night, the BFM assembled--conch shell not included--at Drinker’s Tavern for what was expected by all to be a very shiggylicious trail.  Some would be disappointed.  Our hares Poly Pocket and Sex Toys for Tots graced us with their presence, or at least I think they did—I was encountering my hourly brown out—and laid out truly uninspired marks for chalk talk.  The pack paid no attention to the two soulless and sadistic hares and continued to drink.  Tonight’s RA Groundhog Lay poked and prodded the pack, encouraging them to follow him into the alley next to the tavern to do some activity called chalk talk.  I’m pretty sure Statutory Consent’s virgin was fully expecting to get diddled by a rodent.  Chalk talk was uninspired, yet somehow after hours got the pack’s juices flowing, pack members introduced themselves including visitor Repeat Offender of Shanghai H3 coughing on the pack, somebody had too much Corona while prelubing.  With the strong blow of a whistle, grunting, whining, and the as always late appearance of Cause for Blindness, the pack trotted off, heading due North, West, and South before, the racist pack members thrusted their way North towards a brooding true trail (full disclosure, I’m kind of turned on writing this rn).
 
Chapter Two:  Trail As Old As Time
 
The pack forcefully moved west, with Groundhog Lay and Down Down on the Brown Brown, overachieving as usual, on a normal night, that would have been fine, but as they raced into NPS property they realized the hares were expecting this and we’re already messing with the pack, because they saw a group of pissed off NPS Police either looking suspiciously at them or completely undressing them with their eyes, GL and DDBB decided they’d go with it, and began to cross the street to inform the police that flour was being dropped in the vicinity and also to see if they wanted to join the hash or engage in a cuddle puddle, two steps towards the street, the rejected the both of us—bummer man.  Sphincter Grease came sprinting next, followed by REDACTED and Angry Inch and Tinkle Bell caught up after wanting to avoid a potential arrest on trail, the rest of the pack joined for already the 69th song check on trail.  These hares we’re obviously focused on messing up trail.  A song was sung, banter was exchanged, and no handcuffs got slapped on, the pack then, led by Sphincter Grease and an unknowing Cause for Blindness grinded the fuck out of a statute outside a restaurant, before we turned down a street with puddles.  Because trail didn’t get him wet enough DDBB splashed through every puddle he could find and got himself so moist, no shiggy makes DD a dull boy.  The pack watched in horror before leaving him behind.  After a horrible front of pack mistake following a horrible true trail left, Everything Butt Sex saved the day and recommended crossing the street.  He was right, led now by the over-compensating-for-attendance Statutory Consent, we passed the Penndot Drivers Licence Center, where we lost Not In My Hair, who also kind of saved the day, and who reappeared after alone time.  After several sketchy crossings with close calls…we made it out of the Fashion District and Chinatown.  We poked towards Fishtown knowing full well we’d never make it there, hoping beer or drinks would show up, we are going to drink right?  Sure enough most of the smarter pack members, Wheels, Cause, Shrub Me, Jug Stain…frankly everyone BUT Groundhog, Statutory Consent, Just Shane, Down Down, and surprisingly Roadside ASSistance, turned around realized they were following no marks and caught up with the pack at….a SHOT NEAR.
 
Chapter Three: Death by Paint Thinner
 
The entire pack arrived at the Shot Check, except the hares, who later told me they were laughing and watching the torture that would follow from the hare’s vehicle.  FOR SHAME!  One by one the pack stepped up to drink from what looked like a bottle of paint thinner.  Knights of the Pound Table made a disgusting face and sincerely questioned the quality and flavor of what was inside before just putting some in his mouth.  Wheels enjoyed it, Repeat Offender did too, so did Cums in Spurts before he picked up some chalk and showed how big and intricate his Dayton H3 true trail marks were.  The pack was impressed…not your usual shape and size.  A shot exchange run by Sphincter Grease was a hit.  Shots were shared and that new BFM shot thingy was the tits.  The pack packed up and hit the trail, this is where shit got weird, the pack went down a tiny alley, they all stuffed in and fit, DDBB took chalk and drew a Pole Dance check which Statatory Consent grinded on, and Knights almost hopped on.  Then in realization that our virgin was becoming a Just, Cause decided to give her honorary hug and assess the new member of the pack.  We scared the whole alley way with our songs and gooble gobbles and caused a car to just stop, and then ran towards the river.  No one noticed that Groundhog Lay and Cuff Me had disappeared.
 
Chapter Four: The Final Count Down Down Down Down
 
DDBB overheard shit about beer can tabs, but thought it was a cool new young people thing.  Either a new bedroom position or medication, DDBB is getting too old for the latter, but shrugged it off, it was coming from Wheels and the eco-friendly Not In My Hair, DDBB finally reconnected with 60k9 who was admiring the big dogs locked in an office building by the river.  We slowly hit the river, where GL and Cuff Me, and the hares were waiting.  A short photo shoot ensued, so did some drinking, and the pack took off on foot, the hares (most likely by car), we passed the dogs again, 60k9 and Angry Inch reminisced and we’re clearly hangry and ready for trail to end, one uphill section…up stairs that is, and a straight away ON IN.  The pack made it back for a crazy circle.
 
Epilogue:
 
Circle happened, Virgin Shane became Just Shane, per usual the circle was out of control.  We were joined by Thud Muffin, Silence of the Goats who started accusing everyone and in turn found her home in the middle of the circle, and Two Beds One Nightmare.  It was glorious and DDBB remembers very little of it, probably because of the art form that followed Danger Can.  Sphincter Grease summoned a post circle, more like an oval, of complete dumasses who shook a beer can and bashed it on their heads, Knights gave it a valiant try while looking graceful, Shrub Me looked badass as he attempted to bust to no avail (see a doctor), Statutory Consent did a shake weight move and gave her noggin a tap but the beer can slipper didn’t fit, then DDBB looked like he was doing a lot of work but then gave his temple a love tap and pretty much just mocked the process before tossing the poor can back to Sphincter Grease who taped in the right spot and let the brew drip all over his Fire and Ice promoting face, followed by applause and beer money shot.

-Written by Award-Winning On Sec Down Down on the Brown Brown

Guest Trash by Johnny Dildonix 

I came out late one Christmas to the city that is literally the foundation of our democracy. Sadly, it's now becoming the foundation of my debauchery. The salty swill of the Schuhyll filled the air, and Hashers desperately flailed to find the check across the damned river.

What started as an unassuming urban almost-cajun trail quickly turned into a bumpercunt crapshoot as we stalled out after the first bar stop. Legend has it, the Penn bridge was the site of an "ant--ax" scare back in the W days and so on. In order to avoid another 3 letter agency visit, no flour mark's were to be laid across a .35 mile stretch of bridge. Noone in the pack remembered this, of course, until we called the hare. Apparently these wankers have never heard of fluorescent chalk.

We continued stretching a short trail into a long trail faster than your mom can deepthroat a cheesesteak, god rest her. We ran across the water again to find Penn state and the rumored 99 Bannanas shots near the campus med lab. Why do I do these stupid things to myself? After wanking harder than a frat on a weekday, we crashed past Drexel into a small side street for some gingerbread shotskis. By now I'm doomed.

After determining the on in is but a short jaunt away, the raunchy MFers go ape on some public bench swings, putting the BM back in BDSM...

​Now, safely shepherding to the home-bar like three drunk wisemen on a 5 day bender, the Hash has come to sing their awful Carol's and Karen's late into the night, salute their shorts and crush their kegs as the patrons wince and the staff regrets. These drinks just keep cumming. These a--holes made this Grinches bulge grow three sizes that day, and then shrunk it by 4 after an inordinate number of shots. I hope they wont throw me off the train until I make it back to my little village around 2 am for the ending ritual of WaWa hoagies.

The BFM met at our usual hindquarters: Drinkers Tavern.  We took a seat toward the backside of the bar until it was time to on-out, then followed behind the hares for a nice little trail.  Despite the hares' best efforts to confuse the pack, we found their booty in the form of Rum(p)chatta and cans of beer.  Although we were initially told we would have to be upstairs all night, Drinkers eventually let us do circle in the bottom of the bar, vaguely threatening that if we touched any of the beer down there, they would put it on our tab (which… isn’t that how drinking at a bar works?).  The pack was cheeky and had several things to say, especially during the tail-end of circle:
 
It would have been nice to get a hug from Down Down, butt he told everyone he had bedbugs as he hugged them.
An old man walking down the street might have made it home to his family, butt Slothy Seconds tried to get laid on trail by running directly into him.
Ass Ass might have been a helpful hare, butt she didn’t show up until ¾ of the way through trail.
Groundhog Lay might have been the first person of the night to get Cuff Me’s name right during circle, butt he started choking on an invisible dick when he tried to accuse her. 
The pack might have made it back to the bar quickly, butt we ran by a cat café and no one in the BFM has seen a pussy before, so everyone had to stop and look.  

Hares
Silence of the Goats
Statutory Consent
 
Hashers
Me Shrub You Long Time
Cuff Me the Vampire Player – Invisible Marshmellow!!
60K9 – Ironman!!
Groundhog Lay – Batman!!
2 Beds 1 Nightmare
Nibbles & Clit
Just Doogan/Rich
International Dicklomat (visitor!! from Hawaii?)
Sex Toys for Tots
Under the Siege
Everything Butt Sex
Just Joanna
Just Eric
Knights of the Poundtable – Ladybug pretending to be Mothra!!?
 
Chalk Talk
 
Possibly the wettest trail of the century.. WTF RA’s (specifically Shrub -_-). You had one job…
​We must've upset the hash gods. Or someone decided to cosplay as Storm and wanted to fuck us up. By peeing. ALLLL OVER US. But nope. We didn't let that stop us. No siree.

Half the pack attempted to cram for shelter. Chalk talk was cut short because we ran out of chalk to talk about. Because it vanished. RIGHT. BEFORE. OUR. EYES. What kind of fucked up shenaniganery-sorcery was this? Luckily there were no virgins to confizzle, so on out to check it out we did.
 
Trail
 
We made it a whopping 3 blocks before realizing that no marks were in sight. So we gave up and decided to play in an open fire hydrant. The water was warmer than the torrential downpour. It may or may not have been sewage water. We found shelter and decided it was time to call the hares for alcoholic support. ON TO THE BEER NEAR WOOT WOOOOOOOT!
 
Scrub a Dub Dub in the Rittenhouse Tub
 
We were met by Goats at Washington Square Park.. but where’s Ms. Consent and the beer!? Luckily Goats had some mysterious juice concoction disguised inside Spider-Man bottles to hold us over!! While waiting for Stat, what better way to kill time then to play in the fountain to rinse off all the piss and sewage.

After a few minutes, we frolicked over to the Eternal Flame and tried to warm up. Did it work, you ask?

♫ If only you believe like I believe, baby,
We'd get warm,
If only you believe in miracles ♪

...NOPE. That eternal flame got me fucked up.

Ms. Consent FINALLY decided to show up with a case of HAMMS!!! and a random Strawberry-Rita? That absolutely no one wanted because fucking.. NO.. just noooooo! Stat had a hot consensual date and left early (never to return until circle) or she may or may not have been parked illegally......

The pack grew cold and my nips were beginning to cut holes in my shirt. I tried to use Cuff as a meat shield from the wind.. Didn't work out well. With the marks long-gone, we went ON-IN back to the bar. 

Circle

We had a few auto hashers who where too chicken shit to join us, including:

Under the Siege
Sex Toys for Tots
Everything Butt Sex
Just Joanna

Why are we not wearing shoes in circle, you might ask?

Because Storm peed on us. That's why.

End of story...

- Knights

The weather favored the BFM with a balmy 50 degree day on an otherwise cold, wet, and miserable February. We started the evening earlier than most with a meeting of the mismanagement minds in the back of the BFM favorite, Cavanaugh’s Rittenhouse Square. Young professionals lined all the tables eyeing us with great trepidation and secret desire. We sat in the back discussing the many great things yet to cum this year. Talks of trails without dresses, campouts, cumming of age dances, city wide competitive goblets, and mile marker events. Our great leader’s ideas for this year poured out and the spark of renewed energy and life was fanned into the operate. New ideas related to communications and wares were inspired and it was in this humble raconteur’s opinion that the meeting signaled the beginning of what will sure become the greatest year of hashing in BFM history. Those witnessing these ideas included:

Groundhog Lay (Grande Master)
Cuff Me The Vampire Slayer (Hare Raiser)
Me Shrub You Long Time (Religious Advisor)
Sphincter Grease (Haberdasher)
Not In My Hair (Webmeister)
Roller Daddy (Communications Czar)
ASSassination (Master Beader)
Statutory Consent (Hash Flash)
Jewels of duh Nile (On-Sec)
Knights of the Pound Table (On-Sec)
Shop & Fuck (On-Sec)
Special Guest Appearance: Spare My Finger (Consultant and Guide)

But soon enough in came the hares for the evening:

Sex Toys For Tots
Music To My Tears

And they were soon right back out the door doing their hashy thing. With the hares gone the rest of the pack started making their way to the back room of Cav’s, including:

Taco Bell
Stolen Balls (transplant from Stockholm)
Silence of the Goats
Just Tyler (Virgin)
Roadside ASSistance
3 Balls
Blackout Or Back Out
Just Chris (BFM Virgin)

Before we even made it out the door the night was shaping up to be rare. Off in one corner Assass was hemming the length of Goats’ scrubs using a stapler so that she could do trail, which was pointless because who needs pants to do trail, and soon they were discarded revealing goats eating her own socks. That isn’t normal, right? Well how about Bell actually reflecting on so called wisdom dispensed to the Son of Tacos in the form of this advice from Sphincter; “If you like a girl you go right up to her and sniff her.” Definitely not normal. Then there was Jewel and Just Tyler pondering which vodka makes sense to consume prior to a trail…and then many more came forward and tested their theories. After that our GM Groundhog’s food came out at 7:59pm just as our RA Shrub yelled out, “Chalk Talk!” There was no way he was getting out there in time.

I rolled down with pen and paper in hand to partake in our opening ceremonies. About half the pack was standing around when our RA decided, “Fuck’em…let’s get started.” And started he did. We were introduced to our virgin Tyler who some rando on Meet Up made cum and then Just Chris who wasn’t exactly new to hashing but was new to the BFM and it was Blackout who made him cum…and yet 3 Balls didn’t lose his shit that this handsome young stud was made to cum by 3 Balls’ precious little girl. We were all stunned. So stunned that Groundhog was shivering…or maybe it was the cold chill creeping in that was causing that on top of the fact that Groundhog was in shorts, a T, and no hat…WAIT…how the hell did he get to chalk talk so fast after only receiving his food minutes ago? Our RA Shrub moved chalk talk along and mused upon the echo created by the parking lot behind him and I missed out on the attention the RA gets so I decided to create an echo of my own. And I am so grateful that I did because it caught the attention of two BFM favorites who happened to be passing by:

Gag Reflex
Gellatio







So the pack wrapped up chalk talk and headed off east down Sansom St. while I and a few other seasoned BFM’ers hung back and caught up with the GG couple. While we were doing that we were blessed with a late arriving visitor:

Sphincter Shy (EDW H3….WHAT WHAT WHAT??? Another Sphincter?)

We sent the shy Sphincter (cause lord knows that our Sphincter isn’t shy AT ALL) on his way and got back to the important catching up we were doing. Why pray tell were the cute and cuddly GG’s not on trail with us considering we were in their neighborhood? Oh, because it was the annual Frazier appreciation night and there was to be a Frazier marathon back at the GG abode since it is now on Netflix…there is so much to be dissected in this statement…but there is a lot to get to so I will let this be on you the reader to stay up wandering about in the wee hours of the night.

So off Groundhog Lay, AssAss, and I went to go see if we could catch up. The new and former GM’s along with the long standing Hash Horn and Master Beader chasing after the GM from two years ago. What could go wrong? Well, how about after getting to the first check on 20th St. THE PACK LAID A TRUE MARK RIGHT NEXT TO THE FIRST CHECK LEADING FUTHER EAST WHEN THE TRAIL ACTUALLY WENT NORTH! Oh, there was a true put down indicating to go north, but it was very small and on the opposite corner about 15 feet into the block…THANKS GUYS! So after we ran all the way down to 17th before deciding to go recheck the original check we found our way back on trail going north to an alley that lead us east to 19th that lead us north to Chestnut that sent us west to the steps leading down to the Schuylkill River Trail which lead us south along the river to the BEER NEAR!

We gathered and partook in the frosty brew. Groundhog, AssAss and I arrived like rock stars singing American Pie but were too late for the group picture but had more than enough time to down a BEER (Modelo and PBR). What also happened at the BEER NEAR? I am happy you asked. First of all we ran into:

Dancing Fool (obviously…because he is always on every trail everywhere cleaning up all the things)

Bell checked in with the lesser half…Taco: “OK?” Bell: “This OK?” Taco: . I followed up with the visiting Sphincter telling him, “See, you were fine catching up with the others.” His response was, “If by fine you mean running after a bunch of strange people using strange marks in a strange city, then yeah, I am doing great.” See? All was well. I kept wandering around listening in on conversations and peeping on what people were doing. It’s what all good On-Secs do. Knights of the Pound table rolled up on me to learn a thing or two about his new role. “Is it fun being a creeper?” he asked. Yes, obviously. But I also have to be an On-Sec which definitely puts a cramp on the creeping. I noticed that Just Tyler was doing trail in jeans…and when asked about what he thought of all this so far he said it was the best meet up he had been to so far. Some hashers took it upon themselves to dress up the rocks in the park with images of cocks and balls with their chalk…except for Stolen Balls who decided to try and impress upon us his artistic skills with an abstract tree….I don’t know how they do things in Stockholm but here at the BFM, it’s COCKS AND BALLS! There were some other things in my notes like something about a soulless ginger bringing down the pole after some serious grinding, a new dating app mixing love and jury duty called 12 dateable men. And finally…as a Mediterranean man…I can vouch for the fact that our groin area…is excessively…hairy.

So with all that the hares were back off on trail. Sex Toys For Tots leading the way and Music To My Tears right behind…with a shit ton of flour all over her ass. I know that this is only her second trail, but Sex Toys needs to do a better job of imparting knowledge of how to lay marks. But soon we were ourselves back on out after them going south on the trail to the steps up to Walnut (after first going up and down them several times until we figured out what was going on). Next we went west on Walnut to 30th St. and then down the ramp south into Penn’s practice fields towards Franklin field. We wandered around in that area until we eventually found a path through to a road that paralleled 76S…It was during this adventure that 3 Balls popped out of nowhere and scared the holy hell out of me. Seriously, that ageless giant of a man moves like a panther.

I was in the back of the pack at this point as my note taking slowed me way down and relegated me to the role of sweeper. When I finally caught up to the pack it was because out mighty GM of yesteryear and the spritely Music were there. My initial thoughts were that we had another BEER NEAR, but NOOOOOOOO….THEY GOT CAUGHT PANTSED. WTF?!?!?! Two of the sexiest hares we have ever had got pantsed and I missed it. FML. Is Sex Toys new? So the trail was turned over to Silence of the Goats and Sphincter Grease. Off they…wait…what’s this now? Not Sphincter Grease? Sphincter Shy? But he’s a visitor from DC? He knows nothing about the layout of Philly? You’re not supposed make visitors pick up trail. Oh, that’s right, we’re the MOB BABY! We do what we want cause that’s how we roll in the city of brotherly love and sisterly affection…BOOM!

So off they went while we sang some verses of El Camino. Once the singing was done we followed the trail south out of the Penn campus area onto University Ave. At this point we must have been about five miles into trail and things were getting desperate and you could tell because Stolen Balls pared off and peed into the only bush in West Philly. We followed University Ave around to Civic Center B Ave (wtf with the names Penn?…showing yourselves to be the third tier Ivy League School that you are? You can’t rest on “at least we aren’t Brown” forever) which lead us through Penn Hospital and then east past Franklin Field and over the South St Bridge where 3 Balls lead us in a song check at 27th St. It is at this point that Sex toys went north while the rest of the pack followed trail east, and Sex Toys was never heard from again as he wound up bailing on the trail that he started off haring. Is that a thing? Has that ever happened before? I mean I get that there are no rules in hashing but there has to be line drawn somewhere? What’s next? Cats and dogs living together?

So we continued east on South to 22nd and then north to Addison where we went east to Van Pelt where we went north to Pine and then went east to 19th and then north through Rittenhouse Square and ON-IN. It was on this last leg that it was noted that Sphincter Grease’s pants are a good two inches too short…and this is the man who will be in charge of our BFM clothing for the next year. Eventually we all gathered in the bar except for Sex Toys who was still missing. So we waited…and waited…and waited…until finally Shrub was like once again, fuck’em, and he began circle, which Sex Toys jumped in on just in time for the:

HARES: Music To My Tear (first half), Silence of the Goats (second half), Sphincter Shy (second half) and Sex Toys For Tots (first half but second half of the song as he was out moving his car, just narrowly avoiding getting towed due to construction that was going on…EVERYWHERE IN THE CITY)…S-H-I…T-T-Y…T-R-A-I-L!

FILI: Groundhog Lay (remember the guy who was eating one minute before trail started…yeah he was first in) and Stolen Balls (pee breaks get you last in)…HE’S THE MEANEST…HE SUCKS THE HORSE’S PENIS…

VIRGINS: Just TYLER and Just Chris…WE GOT VIRGINS…WE GOT VIRGINS…

ZIGGY ZAGGY: Shrub for fucking up and not singing a virgin song at first.

CUMS LATELY: Taco Bell, Silence of the Goats, Blackout Or Back Out, Roller Daddy, Stolen Balls, 3 Balls, Jewel of duh Nile, Knights of the Pound Table…HASHERS…MEET THE HASHERS…

VISITORS: Sphincter Shy from EDW H3 shared with us a body part of lengthy proportions (once again our brand new RA forgot to sing a song…but let’s keep the party moving)

ACCUSATIONS:

Round 1: Groundhog to Hares for WTF happened? AssAss to all the lazy hashers sitting in chairs. Sphincter Grease to Shrub for smelling something (not sure what this was but I guess since he smelt it he dealt it)…

We now interrupt this trash to report on the interruption of the circle as four people we didn’t know came storming in with very confused looks on their faces which was followed up by an equally confused and then very concerned 60k9 all dressed in work attire yelling at his four co-workers (who all happen to report to him) to get out of the room and not to look back…but we weren’t having it…and so another round of virgins were had…

MORE VIRGINS: Just Brent, Just Derrick, Just Daniel, and Just Alex all of which were mistakenly made cum by 60k9…WE GOT MORE VIRGINS…WE GOT MORE VIRGINS…

Round 1 (continued): Shop to Shrub for recycling the virgin song. Music To My Tears to Statutory Consent for burning out the light at the BEER NEAR with her intense grinding. AssAss to everyone that wasn’t wearing the lovely necklaces she made for everyone…THEY OUGHT TO BE PUBLICLY PISSED ON…

Round 2: Shop to Music for having more chalk on her ass than on the trail. Cuff Me The Vampire Player to 3 Balls for lying about his age and telling her that he was 80 and she believed him because he is usually so very trustworthy. Groundhog to Statutory for trying to hide on the floor after knocking over her BEER instead of just stepping and inch to the right and blending in with the big red sign behind her. And then I think I missed an accusation but the result was ALL SPHINCTER’S DRINK. Shop to AssAss for hair shaming me and bringing up that I probably have a hairy dick because I am Mediterranean…and I do. MY ONE SKIN HANGS DOWN TO MY TWO SKIN…

Round 3 (Final Round): Shop to Shrub for something I can’t remember and didn’t write down cause I was making the accusation but let’s just assume it was hysterical and witty because everything I say is comedic gold. Shrub to Statutory for continuing to grind on the pole until she got it to be turned on again. Cuff Me to Statutory and Roadside ASSistance for Roadside cumming to Statutory’s ASSistance after she smashed her phone and he lent her his to take hash flash with. Knights of the Pound Table to Cuff Me for smoking while running and defeating the whole purpose. AssAss to all the GM’s that quit or got lost on trail which included Shop, Groundhog, and definitely Sex Toys. Shop to Stolen for doing art on rocks that did not include COCKS AND BALLS!. Shrub to Just Tyler for drawing the entire Smurf village on the rocks. AssAss to 60k9 for something something something…but it involved him probably losing his job after tonight. Shop to BOBO for not making us aware that Blackout Or Back Out make for the initials BOBO and could have made my life easier and not have kept fucking up her name all of last year. Groundhog to the 2nd half hares for musical notes that only vaguely resembled musical notes. Shop to 60k9 for bringing smart people to the hash that spout off big words which I had to look up in the dictionary when I got home. Shop to 3 Balls for not giving Just Chris the same hard time he gave all of us for hitting on his daughter…and WHEN IT’S INCEST TIME IN TEXAS…

ANNOUNCEMENTS:
Please look to the BFM website and Facebook page to review 60k9’s resume posting as he could use a job.

Full Moon H3 will be in this same bar tomorrow (February 22nd) and afterwards they will be going to a standup comedy show nearby.

The BFM is at O’Neal’s off of 3rd and South next Thursday, February 28th.

The Gritty Run is March 23rd which will be replacing the Philly Green Dress Run. It is only $25 and the first 15 people to sign up will get their hash cash comped for the BFM “Not a Green Dress” run on March 21st at Bonner’s where if you do come in a green dress you will be given a surprise giveaway and then on March 22nd it will be a Full Moon Hash pub crawl and on Sunday March 24th the Liberty Bell Hash will be doing a fat boy brunch.

And with that Shrub deemed circle closed.

OVERHEARD OR WITNESSED:
Music: “Want to see my eighth tentacle?”
Roadside: “That would be a good one.”

60k0: “Mistakes were made tonight.”

Just Tyler: Stripped down to the waist and changed into another shirt and then proceeded to eat everyone’s left overs in a crazy feat of eating skill thus sealing that he is one of us.

Statutory: “What did the door do to you?”
Roller Daddy: “It wouldn’t let me out!”

Groundhog: “I’ve sung so may Beastie Boy songs at Freddy’s.”
Sphincter Grease: “We are learning so much about drunk you tonight.”

Random Co-Worker: “60k9 is much better drunk than sober.”

Statutory: “Did we run a trail tonight?”

Statutory (she was in rare form): “Well did it get me off?” (this was referring to the light pole she violated early in the evening).

60k9 (who was also in rare form): “I have so many problems tomorrow, but that isn’t my problem right now.”

And with that, I give you all great big mind hugs because everything above was all a figment of my drunken imagination except for one truth. I leave that for you to figure out.

HASHERS:
 
Groundhog Lay
Cuff Me the Vampire Player
Cause for Blindness
Baa Ram Him
Music to My Tears
Jewels of Duh Nile
Everything Butt Sex
Just Eliza
Me Shrub You Long Time
3-Way Stop
Roadside ASSistance
Judge Doody
Tits of Steel
AssAssination
Not In My Hair
Knights of the Poundtable (me!)
 
HARES:

Pounded in the Can
Rubber Ripper
 
Arriving 1 minute past 8:00, fashionably late, I quickly gave out hugs and whipped out my Handy Dandy Notebook (where’s my red chair?). As a first time on-sec, it was a joy to be a creep and to have an excuse to be as such...and to scribble down the debauchery that ensues while we're running with medicinal poison running through our veins :D
 
Everything Butt Sex led a rusty chalk talk after a vacation in the nethers of an unknown land overseas. No virgins.. however, one notorious visitor decided to grace us with his presence.. the one and only Baa Ram Him, who was quickly ejected from circle NOT because he's an OG, but probably because Butt Sex was just too flustered by his grace and beauty.
 
We descended into the Southern Lands of Philly..into the cold night with nothing but our (dim)wits and a few headlamps. Check after check and maybe a song check, we turned onto a very dark bike trail where people go to get dead or have a good time. Luckily we were there for the latter. Groundhog, as our noble GM, tried to guide us all with his mighty beacons of light donning not one, but TWO headlamps. Rather than guide us, he triggered epilepsy and blinded us all. Trying to put Cause out of business? We all know that's impossible.
 
We quickly arrived at the BN and were met by the dynamic duo:
RUBBER RIPPER  and POUNDED IN THE CAN (yaaaay for a fellow Pound)
 
We downed delicious beer in the frigid cold. AssAss transformed into a red-eyed cyclops in the night with the only headlamp remaining on. Music had maybe one too many beers and began complimenting what seemed to be an ordinary trashcan. Cause revealed to us one of her many hidden fetishes: she likes da armpits.. the sweatier the better. Keep your deodorant close.. or don’t ;). After stargazing at a clear night sky, we decided to head out. But first, an oreo sandwich cuddle puddle to soften our diamondesque nips.
 
The green band was flying left and right.. no one could be trusted. Just Eliza performed some impressive matrix to avoid the curse that is the green band. She asked a billion questions about the ways of our shenanigans.. I’m slightly convinced she’s a secret agent spy.
 
We arrived at the SN at a park somewhere in South Philly. Jefferson Square? Dickinson Square? Hell if I can remember (I’m also terrible with directions). We enjoyed a warm, delicious, yet mysterious brown cocktail that was deemed to be diarrhea that reminded us of Christmas. Because who isn’t reminded of Christmas while sipping on diarrhea? Anywho… Onnnn Onnnnn
 
Jewels was put in charge of sweeping while simultaneously getting banded..he was determined for revenge. A couple checks and a true trail later, we were ON-IN back to our sanctuary.  Songs were sung and accusations flew in circle. Baa Ram Him, called into circle for visiting, paraded around circle with his snake and buns in tow. My notes were illegible after that because I was so gobsmacked.