Pees Like a Princess @ Collinsville ILLINOIS!!!
Hash Trash: Ohhhhh that Mad Dog is a mean wine.
In an uncharacteristic attempt at daring-do, Penis like a Princess lured the hash to Collinsville, Illinois, under the giant ketchup bottle with the promise of bum wine. Earlier that day, torrential downpours washed away any semblance of the pre-laid turkey trail, striking despair into the heart of our delicate Princess; a general malaise settled over the rest of the hash. Never fear, fair hashers, for a hero would rise on this night…a hero named Postage Tramp. Armed with wit, courage, and the love of a good woman, this man emerged from amongst swarming semi-trucks and volunteered to help set trail. Princess, who prefers the company of men, nearly wept with gratitude. The hares were blessed and were off as WACIJ dazzled a gathering of harriets with tales of Okinawa and his vibrating glove. Hmm.
The hash soon gave chase and followed trail through the mean streets of
Collinsville. Turkey and Eagle trails converged, trecherous hills were climbed, and most of the hash eventually found its way to the BEER STOP, supplied with copious amounts of Stag, Mad Dog, Wild Irish Rose (Just Satoshi’s personal favorite), and something that tasted remarkably like SeaBreeze. Prodigal hasher Mama's AssPorn soon arrived with his harem and there was much rejoicing upon the arrival of the gorgeous harriets. In a fit of jealous rage, Whiney Bitch engaged in a gunfight with a nearby trans-am, who was monopolizing the attention of said harriets, the hash mourned his demise.
Upon the consumption of all the bum wine, the hash finished the trail and adjourned to the on-in where our lovely lovely Viper Snatch celebrated her 50th run! (Get a life.) Adorable virgins Just Jentielle, Just John, and Just Kimberly were welcomed. Hashers practiced Okinawan down-downs. However, I believe Just Jeff's suspiciously new looking go-fasters failed to earn him a shoey tasting beer. Do My Butt breathed a sigh of relief as GladHeAteHer returned to the hash after nearly a month of absence, the entirity of which was spent in a gilly suit, crouched in his attic, assassinating squirrels in his backyard. When pressed for further comment, he merely replied, “The Federales never gonna take me down.” I think those are words we can all live by. Needless to say, he was awarded the hashshit for his dumpster diving abilities and further for his unwavering Christmas spirit.
Plot My G-Spot