Remember that hash where both Frankie the Dick Thrusting
Pussy Eater and GladHeAteHer were FRBs? You don't remember that? Never
happened in the history of hashing you say? Huh. I guess it takes a
special hare to make that happen. Or three as it would be in last
night's case. I knew it was going to be good when the three hares
pulled up to the hash in a tiny red clown car, jam packed on top of each
other, while sipping big bottles of beer.
had a pretty good turn out and some pretty worried looking virgins.
Just Tony, Just Josh, Just Heather, and Just Don. Worried because
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Cow Cock dropped a bottle of stout on the
ground, spilling it's contents in the circle. Free Mustache Rides and
someone else risked ingesting glass shards and got down to lick it up.
Just Don could then be heard saying, "There are some real veteran
drinkers here." Yes, Just Don. Yes we are.
Bucks, Five Bucks, Five Bucks led the circle and asked the three lovely
hares to lay flour for us to follow and to confuse the virgins. After
they left, Five Bucks called in non-hash attire wearing wanks,
whistleless wanks, and wanks who wore shiggy socks. This last one would
come back to bite him though. And by bite him, I mean get poison ivy
all over him. And by get poison ivy all over him, I mean have an orgy
in the woods. That last one would come back to have any orgy in the
woods all over him though. On-Out!
pack wandered around the parking lot and quickly found the theme of the
trail, and that would be completely changing direction off of a single
dot in the middle of the road. Oh, you tricky hares! A Turkey-Eagle
split was observed by the front of the pack, but missed by almost
everyone except for me, Frankie, and Is It InYouYet? Finding ourselves
in an unfamiliar position(the front), we blazed down the streets and
quickly caught up to the walkers at a Song Check. InYouYet joined the
walkers while Frankie and I struggled to solve checks and find dots that
went from road to sidewalk back to road again. We wandered aimlessly
until we realized that one of the hares was with the walkers and that it
would probably be smart to see where she went. This is how we solved
75% of the checks. Hash smarter not harder.
blazed through the poison ivy riddled woods of Forest Park and found a
pair of loppers and a bottle of spray bleach. Probably not used in a
murder or anything. Frankie grabbed them and carried them with him as
we searched for the beer stop. The other two hares saw us cumming
before the beer stop and squatted down in the poison ivy. Seduced by
race-ist behavior, Frankie and I completely passed them. InYouYet saw
them and thought they were just two girls pissing in the woods. He
tipped his cap, and in his best British accent, apologized for the
interruption. He then urged them to continue their piss party. Who
said chivalry was dead? Because of almost being caught, the hares never
laid a BN or BS. The Eaglers were yet to be seen, so we waited
patiently for those slow ass mother fuckers to finally show up. Frankie
attached his newly found murder weapon to the bike rack of an innocent
Muny opera goer's car in order to give them a fantastic story in their
otherwise boring existence. Now that's hash like behavior!
second half of trail was almost as good as the first. The hares laid a
Hash Halt in a spot where the fireworks going off at the Muny could not
be seen. We then wandered straight down Clayton road back to the
start. Roadkill carried the beer stop cooler with him and surprised a
local who asked for a beer and actually got one. More hash like
behavior! Hairless Whisper(or whatever her name is) fell down and gave
us a bloody reason to sing You Can Tell By The Smell, which we all
At the end circle, everyone drank beer and sang songs about their private parts. Hashing is awesome.
hares won hashshit for a myriad of reasons including breaking a bottle
of beer, almost getting caught, and a shitty fireworks display. They
flashed their breasts though and transferred the winning hashshit duties
to the runner up, Is It InYouYet? We didn't have a hashshit, so we
filled up a frisbee with beer, and made him drink it. He got about half
way through it before Frankie game him the old Frisbee full of beer to
the face gag, and knocked it up on him. Classic. Roadkill got his 50
cranium run band, the virgins told some shitty awesome jokes, and about
40 announcements were made, all of which were immediately forgotten. We
swung low and almost made it to the on after. Well, that is until they
said their bar was "full" and turned us away. Instead we ate chicken
wings off the ground in the parking lot and contemplated where to go
next. Apparently it was to the Manchester Public House to show them how
to play Thunderstruck.
Yours truly in the bloody bond of hashing,
Super Fast Motherfucker (aka. GladHeAteHer)