No shiggy, short trail, no problem right? Well if you've ever hashed before, you know that those are things that don't happen on a Duzzy Cum trail or a PMS trail. The two of them together and the request of an early start time meant certain doom for the pack. I showed up at about 6:30 and was sad to see that I was the only beermeister. Toxic Waste offered me a Schlafly's, which I eagerly took because my cooler was full of Keystone Ice and Beast Light. I did take a certain joy however seeing the look on the thirsty hasher's faces when they had to choose between shitty beer or nothing. Almost all chose shitty beer. I was proud. Hashers trickled in from all around and we got started at about 6:50. Yeah, I can hardly believe it either. There were many virgins and since Duzzy and PMS had pre-layed chalk talk, they easily conveyed the mark's meanings to them. Fartfignugen was announced to be laying a walker's trail and then the hares were blessed, groped, and out. We circled back up and continued where we left off two weeks ago and refreshed our memories about all of the shitty things that Just John has done in his life. Train hopping, electric fence peeing, being an electrician and a Marine topped the lists. Some possible names that didn't get chosen we Poo Poos In Choo Choos, Prison Bitch, Semper Fried Penis, and You Can't Handle The Juice. They were all top notch entries, but in a count of hands, Just John will forever be known as Short Jerkit! On Out!
We ran along side a pond wondering all along if we would have to cross it at some time. We hit a check back and found a tp laden trail through the woods. The shiggy was thick and pretty low, which made us all wonder if Duzzy even went through this part of the trail. We crossed a creek and then tried to scale a dirt cliff. Many a tree root gave way to the eager tugs of hashers but I'm pretty sure everyone made it up. I helped Strap On Strap Off up one side and almost pulled her arm out of socket. Muddy, sweaty, itchy, and classily bitchy, we trampled on down railroad tracks and into a hobo jungle for a hash halt. Once everyone gathered, we set off again in search of beer. Some hashers fell down hills, some hashers were circle jerked, some hashers reaped vagina gourds, but all hashers were mystified at the bar/beer stop that seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Hashers were not only delighted with the beer that Ricky's Crab Shack had waiting for them, they were amazed that this backwoods bar had a stripper pole and several pieces of exercise equipment in the back. All this place needed a baby to make it the strangest bar I've ever been to. The jukebox had Live Iron Maiden in it for Christ's sake! I mean, who's gonna play that besides me? We finished our beers and ran for the hills. I found a hare bag outside the bar, which I conveniently used to lay chick checks all the way back. Just Maggie decided to take a dump on trail, but was so frightened that she took off running before pinching it off. I think that deserves a name don't you think? After making it back to the circle, we got more beer and started up the festivities. Hashers drank for being fast, slow, losing shit, being bloody, being born, being dumb, being a virgin, riding in cars, wearing shiggy socks, not wearing hash attire, and for being justs. Cranium bands were awarded to 1/5th of the circle before hashshit nominations opened up. Postage Tramp was nominated for tramp like behavior for stealing from the hobo jungle, I Feel Tower was nominated for pointing out his woody to DMB, Hummers Para Libre was nominated for not knowing hashshit nominations were open, Cum Goggles was nominated for Dendrophelia*, and finally Long Duk Dong was nominated for playing with his food, aka Just Maggie. A trial by down down ensued between Cum Goggles and Long Duk Dong and they each chugged a whole beer. The outcome? A tie. ONE MORE TIME! ONE MORE TIME! In the second installment, The Donger outchugged Cummy Gs to escape winning the hashshit. We swang low, listened to Celery's car alarm go off for about 10 minutes, and then went to the on-after.
At the on after, which was at the same backwoods bar as the beer stop, the locals seemed happy to see us again. We showed them how much we liked their bar by drinking lots of beer and singing songs about bloody vaginas, brown bears, department stores, Jesus, and anal sex. PMS challenged Dewey Sexual System to a flash off, but then pulled back at the last minute leaving Dewey in the wind. It was then that I heard Goat Fucker mutter, “Let's try that just one more time.” I was laughing out loud, but not rolling on the floor, at that comment. Just Tony and Help Me I'm Wet got friendly on the pool table, but then listened to my advice to adjourn to a more comfortable and secluded location...the weight bench in the back. Not thinking anything about this comment, we looked back a couple of minutes later and to our shock, we saw what you see at the end of photo packet #2. The look on Dewey's and G-Spot's faces were priceless. But what'ca gonna do? All in all, it was just another shiggy trail!
*The thought or act of having sexual relations with plants. E.g. Tree. Using holes in trees for a vaginal cavity or using small stumps or low limbs for an erect penis. aka. dendrophiliac, tree humper, wood hooker, dendro, limb lover, Cum Goggles