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Wednesday 01/18/2017 #1380

Frankie TDTPE @ ???

Hash Trash:

Since two virgins showed for the hash the chalk talk was a little more thorough than normal. But as most of the pack would soon find out that the thorough chalk talk would not compensate for the poorly placed marks on trail. As the pack approached its first of what would be many chick checks, Licks and Sticks checked left as Dewey went straight. After hearing an On-On from Licks and Sticks the pack went left only to see her turn around and yell blowjob. The pack then followed Cum on Down Under to the right which led to complete and total confusion. Some of the pack went down railroad tracks to the right, others the left, no one knowing where the fuck they were going. There was no mark to be found after the last piece of toilet paper; it was an unfinished blowjob, leaving the pack feeling lost and unfulfilled. Then, in the distance, the whistles blew and On-On could be heard.

Finally the pack was back on trail. The sounds of feet pounding the pavement created a cadence. The pack was starting to warm up again after the wondering that occurred looking for trail, and, then, another chick check. As most of the pack stood around looking at each other, two harrietes seemed totally convinced they had found trail. Most of the pack went right and three went straight. As most of the pack reached the hash halt, they discovered they were missing Tazed and Confused, Licks and Sticks, and Psycho Fill Her. They waited, and waited. Finally, just as two of the pack decided to go and look for them, they showed. What journey had they taken? How the fuck did they get so lost? These questions were never answered because the pack quickly found itself descending into a creek bed.

Thankfully the pack was in and out of the creek and then running up a trail. As they approached the top of the trail they came upon what could be a South County Cindy Hot Spot, complete with some clothes in plastic bags and a pink slipper. The area definitely had the feel that in the not too distant past some strong hooch was traded for dirty cooch.

At this point the pack came upon another chick check. Anticipation began to rise. Perhaps the harriettes were more tired and ready to show some skin. Nope. The ladies were all too ready to track down trail which led to some trespassing on a local golf course. The pack followed random pieces of toilet paper over greens and a bridge before coming up to a hash halt near a fence. Once the pack was complete the trail quickly led to a beer halt in front of the golf course pro shop.

After drinking the two 2×4's, the pack headed down the most dangerous road in Affton. The road lacked both a shoulder and a sidewalk and was poorly lit. Some referred to it as the death road of death. To no one's surprise, the pack came upon another chick check. Like all the previous chick checks this too would be solved by what was seeming to be some sort of puritan strand of women invading the hash. Back down the death road of death the pack went, though some were thrown off by a whichy way double bj found by Cum on Down Under. Thankfully the pack soon found its way to the beer stop where they came upon a big cooler filled with six Stags and a half bottle of crystal Pepsi.

Soon we were back on the road with no shoulder and the FRB'S could hear car back being yelled in the distance only to find out it was Greg Loose Anus was the one honking his horn as he drove by; something he would pay for with hash shit later in circle. The trail took a quick right down to some railroad tracks, which after running on a road with no shoulder for the past mile, made the pack actually feel safer being on the railroad tracks at night than they did on the road. The pack followed the tracks before veering off to the left through some brief but thick shiggy towards the On-In and circle. As the pack huddled together they heard the sound of a train that would have blocked us from seeing the On-In had it arrived five minutes earlier. They then noticed they were missing two hashers, which led to a somewhat disorganized effort to create a search party before two runners could be seen coming from the distance.

Circle commenced shortly thereafter with plenty of down downs and some nudity from virgins which was nice because there was so much missed opportunity for nudity on trail. Greg Loose Anus was the overwhelming winner of hash shit. Soon thereafter the hash sang the extended version of swing low and headed, (head, who said head), to Hot Shots for some more debauchery at the On-After.

-Go Gayhound
submitted at 10:50 PM


Big Hump Hash House Harriers - St. Louis, Missouri - Established 1999