By: Cuff Me the Vampire Player

July 5, 2018
Location: guppies (aka. Satan's armpit)
Hares: Spare my Finger & AssAssination
What: BFM #751

Hashers:
Just Megan
Just Reggie
Bas Ram Him
May I Cum on Ya
Slothy Seconds
Shop N' Fuck
Tits of Steel
Cuff Me the Vampire Player
International House of Virgins
Seaman on the Poopdeck
Sex Toys for Tots
Condum Fuck Sister (???)

Let me start by saying our fearless Hareraiser finally did something right- bringing us back to the best neighborhood in Philly. But, despite the many options of South Philly, somehow managed to pick the one bar with no air conditioning? And so began the sweatiest night of my life involving clothed people.

We circled up so Baa Ram Him could walk our brave virgins Just Megan and Just Reggie through the signs of the night (with some "helpful" suggestions from Slothy Seconds) and we were on-out.

Well, until we got lost, immediately. But worry not, we finally found a mark and we were off. This sweaty, long trail brought us by many historic Philly sites- which was apparently a little confusing for some Hashers who might need to explore their home city? Also a fountain which Tits of Steel zeroed in on and didn't even pause before climbing into, to the bemused horror of the park-goers. And finally the trail split, turkeys to the right.

Turkey trail:
Honestly, a little unclear who it was... But there were four of us! I want to say Sex Toys for Tots, Seaman on the Poopdeck, and international House of Virgins, but if I'm wrong about that, too bad. This shit is official.

Regardless, our trail was fairly uneventful as these three were so sure they knew where the BN was... enter us completely ignoring trail and walking to some fancy building (y'all, there was security). After being turned away by security (guessing it was the jorts) we continued to wander. International House of Virgins and Seaman on the Poopdeck eventually abandoned us and by some miracle we did manage to wander upon the BN and our lovely hares, Spare my Finger and AssAssination.

Eagle trail:
I wasn't there, but from what I can tell, it went something like this (see pictures below)

Together again:
Eventually everyone trickled into the BN where we all cooled down with some beers, champagne, and ice pops. Slothy Seconds led the group in a heated debate of Prince Vs. Michael Jackson while Shop n' Fuck basked in the many 'compliments' on his jorts. But the heat was real and the group proceeded on-in with what I will refer to as an enthusiastic amble.

Back at the bar (which was somehow hotter, literally the floor was sweating) the remaining Hashers circled up. One of the three autohashers (I blame the beer, the notes are getting questionable over here) was called out for inviting Just Megan to her virgin hash and then not actually showing up for the hash? All the none jort wearers were also called out for their attire at one of the chafe-iest themes of the hash. And... a bunch of others I didn't record/ can't read.
Seriously- who let me be an on-sec?edit.

By: Me Shrub You Long Time

Behold the tale of yon hare Under The Siege and the trail he lay to celebrate the longest day the year, making fairest use of the diminishing twilight to bring us much drawn out fucking and a trail most foul.The pack assembled in most casual manner to begin at Bourbon Blue in the Manayunk which was agreed by all to be a far too upholden an establishment for the likes of our brazen and boorish folk. Fearlessly led once again by the advisor of religions, Shop And Fuck, the pack welcomed fair visitors from afar; Plow Me From Behind and Fuzzy Cozmo (who honorably came after his lovely lady) of Porme H3, as well as faces once known and cums VERY latelies; Chorizo Curtains and 1 In The Gear 2 In The Rear (who now also claims visitation from the always moist Seattle H3). Amongst the runners of the pack were Baa Ram Him, Groudhog Lay, Tits of Steel, He’s A Lesbian, 3 Balls, Just Birdie (spawn of the 3 Balls), Pounded In The Can, Rubber Ripper, Statutory Consent, Me Shrub You Long Time and Just Jenny.
​
Chalk talk began with Shop, most eloquently yelling above the Bourbon Bard’s songs, regaling all with his presumptions of marks that may or may not guide the trail, as the hare had been unable to leave the pack with such reference. The minstrel paused his playing ‘ere in time to call the local muggle’s attention to the pack’s antics and they were On-Out with no arrow to guide them true. It took nary a draw of the evening’s warm breath for one of our eager hounds to find a true trail lay down at the bottom of the stairs. A single mark followed and the leaders called On-On! The pack was off, chasing their destiny to trail most true along the lovely Schuylkill. But alas the trail died out from there and the hounds were so early fucked that they sensed a foreboding doom that this trail may be more shitty than accustomed.

Fortunately for the rest, Tits had spotted a mark en route to the beginning of our tale and led the hounds to the first check where they began the adventure of this trail. Marks were found and On-Ons were called. The hounds ventured up hills and along the roads of Manayunk to find a mark missing from chalk talk and pretzel far too hard and too large to enjoy with most favored libations. A hash flash was recorded for the posterity of all by a muggle, which led 3 Balls to ponder the opportunity of chasing said muggle down when and if he decided to dash with flash in hand. Not in surprise of all, they continued upwards to the hills in search beer, past dogs, and homes, and many a stair until they finally found a back check of 15 marks. Such a deep fucking was enjoyed and agonized in turn by the hounds as they counted down to the very bottom of those roughly hewn steps. Onward the pack searched when Shop and Chorizo encountered a distressed damsel who had lost her canine ward, and ever the caring citizens, they broke from the trail to find said four-legged beast.

Now two hounds short, our pack continued along the shittiest of trails to yet again more stairs where was found a song check and Baa led a rousing rendition of “She Likes It In The Kitchen”. All celebrated the coding in verse and ran further up the stairs to the precipice of the climbing. The trail led now downward, towards the river and Baa showed he knew little of the difference between DSLs and whistle blowing lips. Oh poor Baa…but we digress dear hashers. The pack was now led into possibly the most dangerous of tracks on the rails of a train where images of “Stand By Me” were evoked, the pack was once again given a long fucking of a back check 12, and 1 In The Gear proved both her concern for the packs well-being and her experience with running trains.

Deep now, into the woods the pack ventured, when they came upon a babbling stream and an extended shot near where they feasted upon the orange and pink balls provided so lovingly by the hare. As it turned out, the hare had taken his share of fucking also by his mechanical conveyance and some overheating of its driven heart. Woe, oh hare, rum makes for a poor engine coolant. Joining the merriment at the shot near were Jug Stain and the impish hashers Ice Ice Baby and Squishy as well as the triumphant return of Shop and Chorizo (having found and returned the errant mutt). Due to the troubles on trail an On-In was quickly laid and the pack once again returned to an establishment far too refined for thine use and nevertheless welcoming to thine circle.

The joyous celebration of circle will not be laid out here good hashers, but suffice it to say the shitty and long fucking of the evening’s trail was rightly celebrated by all. The harriettes brought strength to bear and hoisted both Under The Siege and Groundhog Lay up for a side-side in honor of their entry to this mortal coil. With a feat to eclipse all others, Groundhog was raised on side singly by 1 In The Gear, signifying the prowess of the fairer sex and the power of her hips.

This was, by the grace and the guidance of flour and chalk, a midsummer night most fair and a trail most foul. It will forever be etched into the minds of those hounds who were immersed in its wonder. If thy were absent dear hasher, thou may take but a moment to reflect on the path of thy existence and ask but one simple query. Are you?

The following written by May I Cum On Ya is a work of fiction based on true events, with the names replaced or swapped, and then possibly returned to their original owners. The author reserves the right to embellish, obfuscate, equivocate or outright lie to make all parties sound as interesting or as innocent as the statute of limitations requires. Fictitious scapegoats may be added to further blur reality from the real ongoings of the attendees and their guests. ON ON!

Where: Philadium Tavern 1631 Packer Ave. Philadelphia, PA 19145
http://philadiumtavern.com/

When: Thursday June 7th 7:30 (8:00 Pack Off)

Hares: Uncle Fister

Attendance

Cuff Me the Vampire Player
Groundhog Lay
Sex Toys for Tots
Baa Ram Him
3 Ball
Pounded in the Can
Rubber Ripper
Jug Stain
Tits of Steel
Silence of the Goats
He's a Lesbian
Prudest Priest
Just Jenny
Just Ben
May I Cum On Ya

To be updated

Prelube:
​Trail began at the South Philly hotspot Philadium [not to be confused with the after hours club Philatio]. We had two virgins in tow, Just Jenny and Just Ben brought along by our hare razor Groundhog Lay. At 8, Shop N Fuck filled in the newbies on the elaborate trail marks that our hare Uncle Fister would be laying for us to follow. The pack took off after their hare and in the span of a few minutes came across local street toughs and their malevolent progenitors. The street toughs asked us what we were up to and why we were tagging up their turf with chalk gang signs. The precocious rabblerousers shot us steely eyed looks while we tried to assure them we weren't a gang and that the flour was not drugs [I don't know what hasher would be wealthy enough to lay trail in such things, but I'd like to be the Kato Kaelin to their... on second thought nevermind]. Their parents apparently weren't swayed by our out of breath promises that we're not terrorists and it wasn't drugs.

Having previously bribed the local constabulary, these jerks called in their favors and had Uncle Fister detained and his several kilos confiscated. When we caught up to him we learned that in an elaborate ruse, Uncle Fister played dead so well that the cops promptly took the drugs and left him there with a chalk outline. Antennae were added as is the custom for depicting aliens whether they be from the Emerald Isles or Roswell.

Since we caught Fister we heckled him and then vowed to make him drink down downs as punishment. Having been defloured by the police he was a bit tender and we let him go with a slight chiding rather that the usual abuse.

We rounded up whatever chalk we had on hand and gave it to Fister. We then taught the virgins some songs and regaled them of times and ways which we had been deflowered [thankfully no one by their uncle and only one person my a cop]. "And that's the second time I got crabs..." -Baa Ram Him

The previously well planned trail now descended into chaos and where once there had been clear arrows now Fister was leaving faint indecipherable lines like an arthritic toddler.

We went from the close-knit albeit suspicious neighborhood of South Philly into the jungles of FDR Park. Thankfully Fister had prelaid this part of the trail so that we didn't get lost and succumb to the local fauna.

It's rumored that William Penn, drunk on power and ergot wine would roam these woods nude and do unspeakable acts with the local wild life. When he tired of siring monsters like the Jersey Devil he moved on the greater challenges and forced himself on hand puppets, creating new life forms. Like the Island of Dr Moreau, the more symmetrical and intelligent offspring were given gainful employment entertaining small children and came to be known as the Muppets. The more misshapen souls were left to roam the wilds of the park... or become sports mascots. The Philly Phanatic is said to be one such creature. . It cannot speak with words like some of its brethren, but on moon lit nights in FDR Park the anguished howls of the Phanatic can be heard. It calls out to its father who died centuries ago and cursed it to walk the earth for eternity.

The trail weaved through the woods on well worn trails and after that went deeper still into areas of the park which had long since been abandoned by humanity and had been reclaimed by nature. The beer near was in one such section and while the hashers drank their drinks and sang their songs, the local mosquitoes rejoiced at their good fortune and feasted on these beer soaked halfminds. [Sidenote: Future trails through here should definitely take with them bug spray and flashlights]

Jug Stain to Shop N Fuck, "The hole was too wet" referring to an rubber orifice [car tire] Shop decided to use as a seat at the Beer Near."

After having drank a bunch of the beer the mosquitoes got to be too much and the pack took off. As there were a few hashers running behind, a small group stayed behind and left behind a trail of beers like Hansel and Gretel.

After making it out of the woods, the trail looped around the park and took the pack by the Lincoln Financial Field where SuperBowl heroes came together to eventually crush the New England Patriots, and where stadium heroes taught an imposter to not masquerade as Santa Claus unless he wanted a D battery on his snout. I guess Fake Santa had "headwound" on his Xmas list.

First in Groundhog Lay
Last in Rubber Ripper [I call bullshit, this front running bastard was probably just the first in for a trail that would be starting in the future].

After that it was a short jaunt to the Philadium. Beers was poured and songs were sung.

Circle

Randoms shouts to the hare:

"Where were the marks, you could have pissed an arrow or two!"

Cuff Me the Vampire Player accused Uncle Fister of trying to provide a human sacrifice to the mosquitoes.

Date: May 3, 2108
Location: Grumpy’s Tavern
Hares: Just Mego (at the time) and Sideshow Bobjob
What?: BFM #741…. 9 MORE ‘TIL 750!!!!!!!
 
*Notes taken on a bartenders notepad with a stolen pen. Sorry, I MISSED FUNNY THINGS. 

Who was there?
-May I Come On Ya
-Groundhog Lay
-Pounded In The Can
-Rubber Ripper
-Shop N Fuck
-Tits of Steel
-Baa! Ram Him
-Just Matt
-Just Ian
-Just Luke
-Emo Kid
-Panyphile
-Uncle Fister
- Jug Stains
-Ass-Ass-In-Nation
-Just Sid
-Sideshow Bobjob
-Cuff Me the Vampire Slayer
-Just Kira
-Three Way Stop
 
Visitors:
-Dwarfus Interuptus
 
​
Just Mego Gets Named!
So there we were, oh wait, there they were because I was late… at the fancy little establishment Grumpy’s.  When I say fancy I mean dive. Fancy dive. I will assume there was a lot of fun had at the prelube and during chalk talk where, HOLY HELL IS THAT PITBULL?! Nope, just Shop N Fuck, informed us of the marks we would be following laid by Sideshow Bobjob and virgin hare Cuff Me the Vampire Slayer (formerly known as Just Mego).
The pack romped and rallied through the streets of the lesser of the Yunks’, Passyunk, picking up another latecomer May I Come On Ya who blamed his tardiness on the parking.  It’s Philly! Always +15 mins for parking! Anyway, the beer near was in a dark, creepy alleyway.  Emo Kid felt right at home. The strange thing about this beer near location was the garage door that lowered and locked us in when Sideshow Bobjob moved out of the way of the sensor… that she had been siting in front of until the pack showed up. Good thing half-mind + half-mind + half-mind + beer = enough brain power to get us out of there. And back on trail we goooooooo.  
The second half of trail consisted of visitor Dwarfus Interuptus complaining that his kilt was causing him to chafe. Also along the way someone decided trail wasn’t difficult enough so they put literal barriers on the sidewalk to block the path.  Thanks Pantyphile, those giant flower planters were the perfect amount of shiggy for a Passyunk trail!  It was also observed that Uncle Fister’s virgin, Just Sid, came to a r*nning group dressed like a boat shoe wearin’ frat bro.  When confronted during circle his response was “I thought he was kidding about the running”. Nope, but we wish.
 
Fast forward to the bar where Mr. Worldwide, ah I mean Shop N Fuck started circle with a bang by allowing me (Pounded In The Can) to join him in RAing.  After promptly effing up the first song of circle for our virgins Just Sid, Just Kira, and Just Luke, we proceeded with the circley things that happen during circle.
 
AND THEN! Just Mego evolved into the beautiful Cuff Me The Vampire Player!
 
Notable naming suggestions included: Super Kinky, Cum Close, Theater of the Quivering Parts, Toilet Cuffs, Potty Party, Multiple InSTALLments, Toilet Houdini

And I’m still perplexed by the availability of handcuffs at a concert…

Love yas!
-Pounded in the Can 

From there the pack headed west and further into the night along Powelton Ave, seeing the neighborhood morph from 17th Century historic buildings [presumably used these days for Eyes Wide Shut sex parties] to dudebro/basic bitch retail stores, until the pack eventually halted their journey in a neighborhood that was sketchy crime-wise, but unique flavor-wise, and was still in the courting phase of gentrification. Thus far they had only played “just the tip”, with one or two Yoga studios and headshops, but without the full penetration found in neighborhoods that had succumbed to the Chipotles and Panera Breads of the world. It was here that the pack came upon the Beer Near which was held in Corner Bar, a lounge that had hookah, swings, cheap drinks, and great music. [3800 Lancaster Ave, Philadelphia, PA 19104]

After a few rounds of beers and shots, some dancing, and some puffs on the hookahs [and of course the swinging], the hares resumed laying trail and the hashers resumed the chase. The pack promptly got lost somewhere around Penn Medical Center after some marks were hidden too well. In some places white paint had been spotted in nearly identical fashion to hash marks. These doppelgangers were mistaken for marks, until the hashers discovered the ruse. There was no evidence that Groundhog Lay and Everything Butt Sex set these marks days ahead of time, but there was no evidence that they didn’t. Marks were getting harder to spot and occasionally the pack split up into two groups to run parallel streets to look for where they hoped they could rediscover the trail. Tits of Steel disappeared somewhere around 10:30 and the trail did not reappear until after having crossed back over the river and cutting all sorts of corners.

Eventually the pack made it back to The Green Room at around 10:50. Shop N Fuck appeared at the bar to soothe bleary hashers weary from the chaos of straw trails and told them to “Trust the Process” with a knowing smile. He checked in with Baa Ram Him and Groundhog Lay and then dipped out before circle. His appearance at first seemed to be a tequila fueled fever dream [Corner Bar apparently prefers to serves doubles, and make it rain, and then serve more doubles], but when he appeared again right before circle it seemed likely that this indeed was our GM having just landed after a full day of flying. Listening in to their conversation, Shop N Fuck had apparently just landed after being delayed for hours due to the always sunny Philly weather [and also presumably due to being repeatedly frisked for his swarthy hirsutism], but wanted to stop by to check on the kennel and make sure the cluster was fucked [Properfucked? Yes Turkish, properfucked before zee Germans get here].

CIRCLE

Noteable Accusations:

Groundhog lay accused Sideshow Bob Job and Just Mego of making the harriers feel inferior for not being able to put out a fire with their cum. Baa Ram Him countered that GHL should speak for himself, “Someone start a fire and someone turn me on.” A date and time for Baa to exhibition his ropey prowess has yet to be set, although a candle or match will likely serve as the conflagration.

Just Mego accused May I Cum On Ya for confusedly thinking every major thoroughfare they crossed was Broad Street.  He tried to justify it by saying they kept on seeing it, but was silenced with laughter. When he later looked up the trail, the map revealed the pack never once touched Broad Street or came within several blocks of it. 

Final Announcements:

Everything Butt Sex -
March 17th St Patty’s Day Beer Crawl for anyone that can’t Rego or attend the Green Dress Hash. [Ever wondered what it would be like to have a secret second family or need a way to sneak more drinks without alerting concerned hashers? Why not supplement your alcoholism by getting sloshed on two trails at once?] See Everything Butt Sex for details. 

Baa Ram Him -
Boston Marathon Weekend April 14th-16th Rego is Open
http://www.bostonhash.com/events/marathon_2018

May I Cum On Ya

MAYORS CUP!!!!
also...
Schuylkill Rangers H3 is up and running and looking to help anyone that wants to run local races,or feels like meeting up before, during, or after them. It's also a place to field a team if there's something you've been looking to run, but need team members.
The Schuylkill 50K Relay (Saturday, April 21st) has fielded a nearly full team (one spot left, but more teams can be made). 
The Broad Street Run (Sunday May 6th) has some indeterminate number of people running.[One so far, but with enough booze and photo-shopped bananas they'll be bushels of them!]

No data for the distance was available at the time the trail was run, but one hasher whom should really turn off his gps was being tracked by the all-knowing Google and the following map is a rough approximation of where they all ran.  

​ON ON!

Where?
The Institute
 
When?
EAGLES PARADE DAY
(8-Feb-18)
 
Hares
Sex Toys for Tots
Shop N Fuck
 
Attendance:
Sex Toys for Tots
Silence of the Goats
Baa Ram him
Shop N Fuck
Gay Matthew’s Lamb (Fat Matthew’s Lamb)
Pablo Picossho
Ass Ass In Nation
Ground Hog’s Lay (Ground jogs lay)
Beef Jerkless (Beef Kettles)
Cream of Mushroom (visitor from Pittsburgh)
He’s a Lesbian
Pounded In the Can (Founded In The Can)
Rubber Ripper (Rubber Router)
Stautaory Consent
Spare My Finger (Spate My Finger)
Up Her Alley
Not In My Hair
Just Andy (Pounded’s virgin)
Just Alex (Ass’s virgin)
Alaskan Pipe Line (Alaskan Pipe Lube)
Where’s My D?
Wisdom
DILTDO Dragons
 
 
The birds brought home the super bowl, surpassing all expectations of their underdog status, to unite the city as one. It could not have been a more suitable start to a new reign of Mismanagement.
 
After all, what better way to celebrate that underdog status than to unite as a kennel, and to chase down all that delicious free Bud Light? (Right….)
 
Lest we make light of the theme of unity, it was our first hash under new mismanagement, hared by the former GM (Sex Toys for Tots) and our new supreme leader (Shop N Fuck).
 
In fact, this hash saw the return of many original members:
            He’s a Lesbian
            Up Her Alley
            Not In My Hair
 
As well as three new virgins:
            Just Andy (Pounded In the Can made her cum)
            Just Alex (Ass Ass In Nation made her cum)
            Just Steve (his new job made him cum)*
 
This hash also saw a beginning with a straw draw, led by Gay Matthew’s Lamb.
The first…. well, everyone really, managed to take the long straw.
Left to a somewhat endless 50/50, the last few hashers managed to pick the long straw each time.
 
Trail was shitty. Highlights included:
           - Aiming to go to Yard’s for free (good) beer
           - Finding out Yard’s ran out of free beer due (likely due to Just Steve)
           - Going to Silk City to relive our youth
                        I hear something about HQ the trivia game?
           -  A very real lack of I.D.s on trail, leading to a good chunk of the pack coming back to the bar early.
           - FRB: Beef Jerkless
           - DFL: Alaskan Pipeline? Rubber Ripper?
           
 
Highlights, In No Particular Order**
1. E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES.
2. Rubber Ripper saving Pounded In The Can by running back a somewhat short distance (exaggeration necessary), to retrieve her passport.
3. Goats confusing 2 blocks with 2 miles. (When you’re used to running 50 miles, does the difference between 2 blocks and 2 miles really matter though?)
4. Baa couldn’t catch a break under Donald Dick. (It’s okay, Baa, at least you can read your own notes)
5. E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES.
6. Describing people in terms of looking like Chairs or Jewish M&M’s.
7. Baa’s new hash song, inspired by the Eagles fight song.
8. The Night of No Virgins. All of our virgins disappeared between chalk talk and circle. This might make it more plausible regarding how Just Steve drank Yard’s out of free beer.
9. E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES.
10. Rubber Ripper being confused with Hole Patrol.
 
 
And so, I bid you adieu.
Let us unite under a new reign of mismanagement, as we begin our transition from the year of the birds (okay, rooster) into the year of the dog.
 
 
*Just Steve joined us for Chalk Talk, and then wandered off, never to be seen again. Rumors have it, he made it to Yards before the rest of the pack, and killed off any hopes of free beer.
**Deduced from reading notes written in Greek, apparently.
 
Final Announcements:
1. GREEN DRESSSSSSSS.
ONLY 7 EARLY-BIRD REGOS REMAIN.
You only have 7 MORE OPPORTUNITIES to get rego’d at the low low price of  79$.
So come celebrate more of your love for the Eagles, and get yourself greened.
Rego and explicit details here: https://hashrego.com/events/philly-green-dress-weekend-2018
 
2. Well…. Honestly, I couldn't read my writing. All other announcements, you’ll need to look at on BFM. The only other thing I know about is… of course, MAYOR’S CUP.

Beer-o-ween is one of the most beloved and widely celebrated holidays today.  But did you know the long history of this important holiday?  Some historians [1] say the ancient Egyptians even celebrated it!  Here are 13 spooky facts I bet you didn’t know about the amazing history of beer-o-ween:
 

1. The Druids traditionally sacrificed virgins as part of their Beer-o-ween celebrations, believing it would bring members of the community fertility.  Virgins like Just Joe and Just Jacob.
2. French lore says it is good luck to be visited by distant friends on Beer-o-ween.  Friends such as Must Stank Sally or The Virginator.
3. French lore goes on to say it is good luck to sing Alouette, which hashers like Must Stank Sally will gladly do when hashers like Ass-Ass-In-Nation oblige.
4. Traditional Beer-o-ween celebrations include a shitty trail, pre-laid individually in halves by fraidy-cat hares like Fox in the Pound and Fort Dixalot.
5. An important part of most American Beer-o-ween celebrations is, of course, drinking.  Common drinks include shots on Race St. Pier, Miller Lite at Penn Treaty Park, and PBR at Drinkers’ Tavern.  Some people even say it’s good luck if the RA knocks the entire bucket of PBR off the table before the Beer-o-ween circle!
6. In Mexican celebrations, it is common for people to mistake their friends for departed friends.  Slothy Seconds was only honoring tradition when she repeatedly mistook Strawberry Shartcake for General Do Little Kids.  Strawberry himself participated in this custom by forgetting Fort Dixalot’s name while making an accusation.
7. In the US, it is common for overgrown children to dress as their favorite beers to celebrate.  For example, Silence of the Goats dressed as Hamms (and wore a Hamilton wig!), Sex Toys for Tots dressed as PBR, Judge Doody dressed as Duffman (which really works better with his nerd name), Just Mike was a generic beer bottle, Slothy Seconds and Just Joe were Guinness, and Strawberry Shartcake was a case of Sweet Baby Jesus.
8. In the Middle Ages, Beer-o-ween became an official holiday by decree of Sir Osis of Liver.  May I Come on Ya pays homage to Sir Osis by dressing up like him to this day.
9. In parts of Ireland and Tennessee, hashers like Holding it for Daddy and Fox in the Pound celebrate Wisky-ween instead, costuming themselves as Jack Daniels and Jameson.
10. In Great Britain, folks celebrate with topsy-turvy hijinks.  That’s why Fort Dixalot drove Where’s My D’s van the wrong way down a one-way street.  At least he didn’t “lock her cars in her van,” as D said after promising not to fuck up her accusation.
11. Some people like to be horrified on Beer-o-ween, such as by watching Must Stank Sally and The Virginator go ass-to-ass, Requiem For a Dream-style. 
12. The Beer-o-ween circle tradition has been likened to cult rituals.  Although the true origin of this practice is unknown, You May Go certainly supported this comparison when he said, “This is our cult.  Go get him!” as a stranger accidently wandered into the festivities.
13. Beer-o-ween celebrations transition smoothly into Scary Shots celebrations, so keep the party going in costume in Manayunk tomorrow!

 
[1] Citation needed.