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Wednesday 10/17/2012 #1050

Genital Tort & Hardly Ever Cums @ ???

Hash Trash:

#1050
Gentlemans' hash brought to us by Genital Tort and Hardly Ever Comes
From the memoirs of Sir TrAIn WreCK, Earl of Brinatty MM, OoKoM, KT, MNOotG
Whose motto is said to be - L' Alma non Sine Pulvare, though my liver might...

I ask myself, if my excuse for not going to the playoff game was rain..why did I find myself changing in the parking lot behind Pumpernickels Deli at five till seven?

DC Bitches called while I had my drawers down to ask what I was doing:
my response "hashing"
and she says "I thought you said it was too wet to go to the game?"
me "umm, yup"
her "so you're going to run in it instead?"
me "err.." at which point a cute young harriette walks up behind me sees pink cheeks and says "hey sexy" in what I choose to interpret as a sultry voice. Now I remember why I'm here.

Shits Bricks extorted 3 weeks worth of beer money from me, damn that boy keeps good records.

Not a bad turnout for wet weather, maybe it was the promise of lots of folks wearing white shirts and ties. Of course it didn't happen that way, just two of us and everyones already seen my nipples...

After a bit of drink and a standard chalk talk the hares, who are both young and healthy tried to get 15 minutes, but settled for 10. Tort appears to have a promising future in plea bargaining. I'm sure something funny happened but I've had too many drinks between then and now and my head hurts trying to remember such trivialities.

There were a couple of excellent ties, though Just Dan seems to be confused as to where they are worn and Goldicocks borrowed hers from a stripper. No virgins but Shut the Fuck Up from San Diego claimed she is considering joining our lecherous ranks. Being a former SDH3 hasher I thought I had an in but alas she is a loyal humping hasher and couldn't be bothered to meet any of my old friends.

We did have everyone drink who felt they needed to wear tights, I'm sad to report that not all those guilty were of the female persuasion (Including my Just Dan, will the shame never end?)

Whiney Bitch decided to help out by being later than me, thanks buddy.

Evenually when it became apparent that no girls in white shirts were going to show up, we left on trail. 15 seconds later I found a big puddle, dry shoes are for sissies.

Even though we all saw a bucket of flour in circle the marks were a bit spartan. Particularly so since the rain was steadily washing away what was on the ground. We soon discovered that standard chalk talk was insufficient to describe the reality. Apparently on this trail two perpendicular green signs on a post denoted an intersection (I refuse to refer to them as checks).

So quite often we found ourselves wandering aimlessly through streets, parking lots and other urban locales trying to determine if that tiny white speck in a puddle indicated we were on.
Call of the night was ON on? maybe, ru umm I think so, nope. Last mark? there was a white blob a couple blocks ago...
After we were all incurably soaked and steaming eventually we found a BN (which should have read BVFO-thats beer very far off)

There was some confusion as the BS looked amazingly similar to the on after. Does that not make this an A to B..to A..to B? Or is that AB squared?

Being the smart hasher I am, I had stuffed my id and money in the backpack of a walker at circle. Little did I know that they, being smarter than us, left trail 40 minutes prior to eat at a Thai restaurant. At least they were plenty of civilians at the Hive with large mammories (and bellies to match). Some were dumb enough to fall for the I bet you a beer I can get you wet in 2 seconds bit. So it wasn't all bad.

Eventually the rain let up and the hares disappeared.
I mean this, quite literally.
Leaving the Hive there was one bit of hash in the lot heading toward New Callas, sort of.
Great TraInWrECk, you say. Where did trail go from there?
No fucking clue, I respond.
Hint to new hares - flour doesn't survive long in a wet busy street! Particularly when you use a teaspoon to measure out your marks.

At this point the hash looked something like a downtown roofing job when INS shows up.

I attempted to lead a zen charge, but only 59 minutes and Fake Bake Fuck followed and then passed me (I'm not young anymore you know), they were on a mission. They couldn't bear being so close to a golf course without at least stopping to look at it.

After a bit more random wandering and crossing various bits of pre BS trail I crept into the start the back way.

Apparently no one else had found the 2nd BS either as everyone else was filtering in from different directions.

After several beers and a few bags of cheetos, we got tired of waiting on the hares and decided to have circle without them. Which was inconvenient as I was trying to get a mexican blanket party started.

Since Douche wasn't there we made everyone drink that hang out with him the night before.

Cow Cock appointed Another Dick in the Wall to be her stunt drinker, the shame. So naturally we picked on our poor bovine and made her pay for numerous offenses, sort of. It was all fun and games until she took a sucker punch to her incision, ouch. Luckily a volunteer came forward elbowing the nurse and corpsman out of the way to offer his boy scout first aid skills, I think he just wanted to see her panties.

The bud select was starting to get to me and I can't remember who our hashshit was, to be honest Douche wasn't there so I couldn't be bothered to pay attention.

One thing that does come to mind, I suspect anyone who volunteers the air force song for a down down will find themselves in circle at the next hash. You've been warned. And for those who still feel the injustice of the lack of representation of other services, make one up, no one is stopping you.
I'll even help here's a UK favorite

Arseholes are cheap today, Cheaper than yesterday,
Little ones are half a crown, Standing up or bending down.
Large ones at three and eight, Cause us to palpitate.
We have a big supply, Of Gluteus Maximi.
We'll pledge your money back, So don't say no to crack.
A bum deal you'll get from us,
Arseholes are cheap!Arseholes are cheap!Aaaaaaaarrrrrrssssseeee holes are cheap!

We returned to the BS/on after and the food was good and the pitchers of Rolling Rock cheap, good job hares! Wherever you are.

My memoirs tell no more of this evening as I left before 11 to visit a redheaded hasher from Florida who has taken up residence in Rock Hill. How did I find her? Well if the lazy wanker who was supposed to write the trash from 1048 had done so, you might know the story.

ps Shut the Fuck Up announced she will be haring the sunday trail, but what we want to know is whether or not she is a racist? Dare I go?



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