Submitted by Me Shrub You Long Time

            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.

Slothy/Goats 2016!!!
            “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.”

BFM Hash #753: A Farewell to Baaa!-rms
 
Dearest Baaa!,
            As I sit here petting my pussy (cat), I think about all the great times we’ve shared together. Your RAing skills, including songs new and old, have brought a new, yet traditional aura to the hash this year and will be missed.  You may be leaving us, but the drunken memories (and lack there of) will last a lifetime. Drunken memories are always the hardest to recall….
 
Let’s begin with the most recent of your SHITTY trails:
 
Hares: Baaa! Ram Him and Tits of Steel
 
Virgins:
Just Taylor (Baaa! Ram Him)
Just Alex (Statch)
Just Jessie (Internet)
Just Collin (3 Balls)
Just Rebecca (Jewels)
 
Visitors:
Just Derek
Jiggaly Tits
Bitch Tits
T-Blowner
Fuck-A-Sore-Ass
 
The Mobsters:
Roller girl
Slothy Seconds
Cause For Blindness
Rubber Ripper
Pounded In The Can
60k9
May I Cum On Ya
Orgy Cyle
Thud Muffin
OPP
DSP
Me Shub You Long Time
3 Balls
3 Balls daugher
Groundhog Lay
Strawberry Shartcake
Jewels
Under The Gaydar
Casting Couch
Statch
Bitch Shots
Pantyphile
Just Jenny
Condom Fuck Sister
 
Auto Hashers:
Not In My Hair
“The woman with the nice clothes”
 
 
Trail:
Meet up was in the parking lot of Walnut Lane Golf Club connviently located next to Chubbies and Delesandros.  Is there a better way to say farewell to Philly than with a beer and a cheesteak?!  Beers were drank, chalk talk was had, and we were on our way!
 
Trail began with a quick decent down some shady ass stairs into the Wissahickon. After one song check which was led by visitor Jiggaly Tits, we were crossing some shiggy….the "I wish I grabbed a plastic baggy at chalk talk" kind of shiggy… the “up to Cause’s lady bits” (Quoted from Rubber Ripper) kind of shiggy…the damn, I should have brought a dry bag kind of shiggy… the yup, wet kind of shiggy.  After crossing and climbing up a dramatic incline the pack patiently waited at the following song check for the stranglers to arrive/survive.  Lets take this time now to give a round of applause for Slothy, T-Blowner, Rubber Ripper, and Goundhog Lay for rounding up the DFL  *cough cough Cause cough cough * .  The only thing saving Cause from the death stares of the pack was her beautifully sung rendition of “I effed a dead wh*re by the roadside” at the song check.  Back on our way we crossed another song check led by one of our LVH3 visitors (shout out to Bitch Tits, T-Blowner, Fuck-A-Sore-Ass (I forget who it was))….This hare likes song checks, he must be an RA or something. Back onto trail and I see a halfmind running strait at me.. nope, past me. 60k9, are you lost? Nope. Just a J check. Sucks to be fast.
 
At this point in time we are nearing the BN. At this point in time it also would have been nice to read the trail description. More shiggy, including a long lost tunnel for Eagles and a nice little hop skip and a jump around it for Turkeys.  Didn’t bring a headlamp? Good thing Thud Muffin’s could light the way to H5 and back without any problems.  Shorly after, BEER! YAY!
 
BNs are great because there's beer, there's friends, and there's chatting, and there's smiling. And this is what hashing is all about!
 
Back on trail, we come across another J check. This time it is Rubber Ripper to Thud Muffin.  The rest of the pack continued to the next song check where Condum Fuck Sister and Roller Girl found the ugliest looking bugs I have ever seen. Roller Girl coined the term “Sprickets” for these nasty little buggers and may have taken one home as a pet, I’m not really sure. At this song check Orgy Cycle showed us how to ride a construction worker- errr I mean construction vehicle- and Groundhog Lay showed off his brand new trail treasure, a child's plastic shovel, which would later come in handy. Just as we were making our way back onto trail we spotted Pantyphile’s doppleganger.  No, not a drunk American Eagle model, just a look-alike.
 
Next, the shot stop. Where we drank out of shoes just as Baa! did on his very first BFM trail.  The strawberry margaritas and red wine were much appreciated.  On our way to the on-in we encountered more shiggy in the form of horse poop, as well as one final song check. This was a special song check because the dreaded trail treasure shovel was in full force.  Last one to get slapped in the ass by the trail treasure, drinks out of the trail treasure. Bitch Tits slapped Jewels who slapped Condum Fuck Sister who eventually slapped Pantyphile.  The pack made its way to Casting Couche’s backyard where the beer and orange food was plentyfull.  RA and hare Baaa! Ram Him led circle for the last time with Ben Franklin Mob *sniff sniff *
 
 
Circle:
Visitors: Body parts and a song from Rougue North/Buff Stuff/Everyday is Wednesday H3
 
Virgins:
RIP just Alex (Statutory Consent)
RIP Just Rebecca (Jewels)
 
First in, Last in:
Rubber Ripper (first)
Cause, DSP, Thud (last)
 
Cums latelys:
-A LOT.
 
Accusations: (This is all I wrote down, I got lazy)
 
Groundhog lay: Baaa! Ram Him drinks out of his shoe because he did at his first hash
 
Thud Muffin: Jewels and Statch because “we know what you did to your virgins”
 
CFS: Pantyphile drinks out of the shovel for being the bearer of the shovel
 
Baa!: Statch for not knowing how to put on socks
 
Baa!: Rubber Ripper for his prison hair cut
 
CFS: Baaa! for mistaking RR’s hair cut for a prison hair cut when its just male pattern baldness
 
Casting Couch: Social (YAY!)
 
 
Announcements:
 
MAYORS CUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
 
 
Baaa!, We thank you for your service as an RA with the Ben Franklin Mob. The sounds of your voice echoing "RU" through the streets of Philadelphia will be missed dearly.  Much love and luck on your next hashy adventure in D.C. They don’t know what theye’ve gotten themselves into.
 
On-On,
Pounded In the Can

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