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Wednesday 12/19/2007 #672

Help Me I'm Wet & ICHY @ Maplewood

Hash Trash:

Who wants to write hash trash?  Any one?  No one?  How about the drunk guy in the turtleneck who's too drunk to run?  Looks like we've got ourselves a winner!  Why do I always agree to write hash trash when I'm too drunk to run and probably won't remember anything anyway?  Oh well.  What you are about to read is the absolute truth and not embellished or doctored in any way shape or form.

 

I rolled into the Office Depot parking lot off of Manchester and Brentwood this past Wednesday to hash with my favorite half minds.  But where was everyone?  Oh yeah, right next to Office Depot.  Close enough.  It was unseasonably warm outside.  Or at least that's what I thought after pre-lubing and wearing a massive sweater and turtleneck all day at work.

Our hares Help Me I'm Wet and I Cunt Hear You encouraged us to wear ugly Christmas Sweaters and get stupidly drunk.  They also encouraged us to wear reflective clothing as we would be running around some of the busiest streets in St. Louis.  It was almost an even mix of ugly Christmas sweaters and reflective clothing, with the sweaters just barely nudging out normal racist attire.  Strap On Strap Off was sporting her mother's Christmas present that had Scotties all over it, Dribble Between My Legs had a very festive collage of crap on her sweater, and Cum It Out was wearing some maroon doily/East St. Louis hooker dress that was very frightening.  All in all, a nice showing for the festive hash.  I ran around and handed out beers to our virgins who were too busy talking and trying to sneak a peek at I Have A Dick's crotch to see if her name was true.  Silly virgins, they just haven't been taught yet that drinking as many beers as you can is the only way to get the full hash experience and do something completely stupid.

 

After a riveting chalk talk full of dots, arrows, and breasts, we groped up and sent the hares on their way.  45 minutes later we were out.  The runners took off in one direction, half of the walkers took off in another direction, and another group of walkers went in a completely different direction.  Looks like the sneaky hares had laid a pretty complicated start. Or not.  As I wandered up Brentwood, I contemplated many things.

Could I make this beer I'm carrying last until the beer stop?  I wonder if the runners were hot in their ugly sweaters?  Do you think that car is gonna stop?  Who knows?  All I knew was that I was drunk and mystified by pretty Christmas lights.  And also grateful that the first "Beer" stop was coming up because we had been walking for a really fucking long time.  We were not given beer and instead treated to hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps.  What a nice treat on such a cold night.  But there was beer to be had somewhere so after finishing the chocolate and grabbing what was left of the peppermint schnapps bottle for the walkers, we raced out of the black ice filled parking lot and on to the beer stop.  Luckily our beer stop was the same place as our on-after, Double D's Titty Bar!  As always, patrons were confused, bartenders were overwhelmed, and hashers were hashers.  Nice!! After several beers and shots, we wandered out of the Titty bar and made our way back to the start.  Zenning the way back to circle down Brentwood, several hashers without enough reflective clothing decided to commandeer a road pole so that oncoming cars would be able to see them and swerve.

 

Once everyone got back into circle, hashers filled their faces with beer and chips and willingly accepted their awards for cumming in first (Meta Arsehole), cumming in last (Purple Muffin' Stuffin') and just plain cumming (Red Stripe).  The sausage fest of virgins lined up in the middle of circle to sing a song, tell a short joke, or show a shriveled body part.  Despite the requests of several hariettes for the virgins to "Show your fucking balls", only jokes were told.  Don't know if they were any good or not, but probably not.  Just when we were about to crown the ugliest sweater, significant runs, and hashshit nominees, the driver of the Megabus got a feeling that Postage was being too loud somewhere in St.

Louis and immediately called the Police to come and break up our fun.

Even with PMS letting them know they were number one, no one was arrested.

We broke circle and regrouped at the Titty Bar that we had just left.

Nurse Hashshit was awarded a 50 cranium band and Whiney Bitch was awarded his 300.  Both were thrilled to be wearing groin soaked cotton, but you could hear Whiney mumbling under his breath, "Where the fuck is MY

jacket?"   Hashshit nominations were then finally opened up and some great

nominations came out.   Cum It Out Was double nominated for depantsing in

the circle and for pretending a rode cone was his junk.  Dead Squirrel was nominated for saying that she could swallow a whole hotdog without biting it, but then was kicked out because that was hash like behavior.  DMB was nominated for eating peanuts off of the ground...AGAIN!!!  And the final nomination was for Plot My G-Spot for wearing that Christmas sweater that I found in the garbage bin last summer during the Collinsville Bum Wine hash that had also been in the trunk of my car since then!!  TRIAL BY DOWN DOWN!!!!  Between DMB and G-Spot!  Ready, set, go!!  It was really close, but Butt beats G-spot!!  But wait, there's still beer in her cup?  I think we have a hashshit winner!  Nice work Do My Butt!!  Dead Squirrel could be overheard behind me whispering, "The real trick to a good down down is you just relax and open your throat."  Hallelujah!!

 

After the dust settled from the most gripping hashshit ceremony in months, the RA called for a quick Swing Low because he just heard the karaoke guy call his name to sing Hit Me Baby, One More Time.  On Out!

 

Your humble servant I remain,

GladHeAteHer



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