Well, I love a rainy night. I love to hear the thunder, watch the
lightning, when it lights up the sky. You know it makes me feel good.
Well, I love a rainy night. It's such a beautiful sight. I love to feel
the rain on my face, taste a beer on my lips. In the moonlight shadow.
Showers washed all the marks away. I'll wake up to a sunny day,
'But I love a rainy night
Yeah, I love a rainy night
Well, I love a rainy night
Well, I love a rainy night
Ooh-ooh is right Eddie. For some reason, when the weather is at it's
worst, that's when hashing is best. I showed up early on Wednesday to the
Hotshot's parking lot to find not a hasher in sight. I got nude in my car
and then put on what I could find in the back that might protect me from
the downpour. This turned out to be worthless, save not getting arrested
for being pantsless. I knew I was going to get wet, but wanting to stay
as dry as possible for as long a possible, I bellied up to the bar for a
warm-up. After a while, I was joined my Pornogenic and Dicksmith. They
appreciated my enthusiasm, but were not dressed to get wet. They took off
to see the Cowboy Junkies instead. Boy would they miss out!! Eventually
hashers started to roll in, 15 in all I think, and we knocked back a
couple. Whiney Bitch was no where to be found and it was 7:00. There
were rumors around the group that we should just stay inside and get
drunk, but I didn't drive all the way to
to drink in a bar West County
girl waitresses. Or did I? Catholic School
Whiney's caddy was spotted through the downpour, so we decided to brave
the elements and circle up. There were no Justs and no Virgins, but
Whiney still gave a us a chalk talk as a refresher. Besides he said, the
marks would look different than normal and demonstrated by throwing a
handful of flour on the ground only to have it immediately scattered and
washed away. We gave him a 10 minute cranium start before giving chase.
Across the road, through the rain, up a hill, where's the fucking cake?
We found trail and followed it into a Cul-de-crap, but strangely, we
couldn't find a way out. Maybe the hare took us in here but realized the
same thing. Or maybe the marks just got washed away. Or maybe he was
just fucking with us. Whatever way, we found true trail, but not before
Pees Like a Princess did his best Jesus impersonation and tried to walk on
ditch water. He did not succeed, but instead shouted, "My balls are all
wet! No really." The Hare took us up more hills and mud to the beautiful
scenic lookout of the Airport. Nothing like being wet on the tallest part
during a lightning storm. Many a shout of "I don't think the Bridgeton
hard stuff is gonna come down for a while" and "I'm having the best hash
ever" could be heard from the half-minds. Wet, dripping, and thirsty, the
pack found their way to the Beer Stop under a pavilion. And wouldn't you
know it, guess when it stopped raining? I managed to keep my cigarettes
dry, but my lighter did not make the journey. We shivered, drank some Bud
light, and elected Do My Butt as the new RA in our impromptu mismanagement
meeting. Congrats Do My Butt! You'd better learn those songs. I'll
After a couple of beers, the pack left and it started raining again. This
hasher grabbed a ride with I Have A Dick, Dewey Sexual System, and Nurse
Hashshit. Hope there weren't any chick checks on the second half of
trail, because I had almost all of them in the car with me. We went back
into the bar and met some dry wussy hashers Funny BoneHer, Just Angela,
and 2 Fuck Canuck. Before we could get through our first beer, the pack
was back and eager to circle up. Everyone was accounted for, except
Princess who was last heard yelling that he was going to catch a cab.
Nurse Hashshit was worried that he had tried to attempt ditch walking
again and met his ultimate fate, so she set off after him. We kept
drinking. Doritos were eaten, Stag was drank, and the pack enjoyed one of
the shortest circles ever. Now don't get me wrong, I love long circles,
but I had had about enough rain. Hashshit nominations shouted out. Cliff
Bangher for having a girlie umbrella, Whiney Bitch for trying to kill us
with mother nature, Disco Ass for his fear of wet feet, and Princess for
having holy delusions and for being the only hasher to get lost on trail.
Princess won in absence, but showed up just in time(thanks to Nurse) to
prove that 'Whatever doesn't go IN you goes ON you' and dumped my stag
over his cranium. The pack then saw Postage Tramp drive up and swung low
faster than they've ever swung before. All in all, it was just another
shitty Whiney Bitch all pavement no shiggy wetter than Princess's balls
Ps. it was also Whiney's birthday or something. We did Crown shots in
Pss. Keyless Entry
Metro Link: No
Wheel Friendly: May need to auto hash to beer stop.
Metro Link: No
From North take I-270 West to the St.
From the South take I-270 North to the St.
From the East take I-70 West to the St.
From the West take I-70 East to I-270 N exit (232) and stay right to the St.
On After: Hotshots Sports Bar &
In case you get lost or need further directions, contact Bama Mate @ (618)593-4175