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Wednesday 11/26/2008 #748

Meta Arsehole & LockNut Monster @ ???

Hash Trash:

So, unlike last year, the gods were not frowning upon us and blessed us with relatively passable weather … rewind back to run #666, the evilest, most vile of the evil hashes.  Same location, much friendlier evening granted to us by the gods of hashing.

 

The evening begins with me, your faithful Cum It Out, and my two swingin' lady friends Fuck Me Pumps and Just Ashley leaving for the hash and having absolutely no idea how to get there.  After inquiring a few of our fellow hashing friends, we arrive to the circle, I exclaim "oh I knew exactly where this was!" and we commence the evening.

 

Down the street limps my cousin OCD and we inquired, why the hell are you wearing denim?  Turns out she had ASS surgery and couldn't run but decided to skip the Cowboy Mouth concert and come to the hash anyway.

Please, no one tell Copped and Fingered.  Circle starts, we are treated to one of the most inappropriately long chalk talks in recent memory, beers are drunk, and we are away on a pre-laid dead trail.

 

Lord, then what happened?  I ambled along with Meta, Pumps, Just Ashley, and a lovely new harriette whose name I never caught.  She's cool though.  We hash-halted at the entrance to AB Winter Wonderland, or I guess INBEV Jollytown or somethin like that, then off we go again!

 

In a fruitless attempt at determining the direction of trail, Burning Asshole freaking eats it on the pavement and almost falls onto highway 55.  God, I think I was the only one that saw it but it was freaking hilarious.

 

Anyways, next thing we know we're going through the world's largest BEER NEAR sign (the brewery) over to the riverbanks where we're advised by the rent-a-cop that if we are to run RIGHT at the levee wall we will surely be arrested.  without hesitating or thinking to question, we run left and spot $5$5$5 trying to hotwire a bobcat crane ... why that does not get one arrested I can't really say.

 

All this time GayBlade is bringing up the rear (ha, I said rear and gay in the same sentence!) in his flaming golf cart!  I'm not gonna lie, I took a few spins on that bad boy throughout the evening, but the contraption brings a new dimension to the term auto-hashing.

 

Okay, so we run through some of the best graffiti I've seen in the city limits, featuring boobies in hell, advice on who to vote for, and Marvin the Martian to name a few.  By this time, I'm way behind the pack because my knee's being a little bitch, so me and Pumps hop onto the cart with GAYBLADE and JA and we head off to the beer stop.  OH WAIT!  there's a frickin train in our way.  Apparently this was a problem many of the hashing faithful had throughout the evening, so we had to bite the bullet and drive over some questionable terrain to reach the blessed nectar.

 

The first BS was sweet, it was just in the middle of a street.  I believe Stink Palm was wandering the perimeter throughout our tenure there to ensure that no hobos attempted to steal our brew.  A sizeable contingent of hashers, led by none other than Keyless Entry, was on a whichy-way that took them by The Fort of Hope, St. Louis's finest homeless colony.  I thought we would never see them again, but somehow they made it through.

 

OnOn to the second beer stop, one of my personal favorite bars around, Molly's ... where we completely freaked the locals who were quite intimidated by our ability to be loud and have fun.  There was little room inside for our sizeable pack, so we built a big ol' bonfire outside and sang some songs.  Cliffy and Peemers proposed am all-to-rare Allouette of Tittymouse which was enjoyed by all, despite her reluctance to show us her chucky cheesy boobers (i don't even know what that means, point is she didn't expose hidden body parts).  Then they kept singing .... and kept singing ... all while the fire gets bigger and our throats grow thirstier.  Late Cummers Holateral Damage, Sexorcist, RCC, uhhhh, Goatfucker, G-Spot, and others arrive to join in the festivities.  Disco Ass proclaims, "WHY THE HELL DON'T WE GO TO WHERE THE BEER IS FREE!?!?!?"  Great idea bro, but wait, there are complications ......

 

Thinking that the hares will indeed fulfill their promises and return to circle from the second beer stop so that we can drink said free beer (well five dollar beer), I hop on the back of GAYBLADE's golf cart and head back to circle.  It's forty-five minutes before anyone sees a hare again.  So where the FUCK is the promised beer!?!  Hashers are seen resorting to actually purchasing beers from the on-after location while others scavenge for beers in the back of Burning Asshole's truck.  That's just damn dirty.  Fuck you hares and all you who followed.  Wow, that was a bit harsh, but that's what I was thinking at the time.

 

Turns out they were at Meta's new place and then some people went to Hammerstone's ... what the frick people?  You just want to keep the pack waiting?  no consideration for others, I hate that shit.  Wow, that was a little harsh but that's what I was thinking at the time. So we had to start the circle because it actually was getting cold out, so we called in fake hares Ricky's Crab Shack and PMS, tore the trail to shreds, and commensed down-downs.  GladHeAteHer is leading the circle through most of this madness, but periodically hands duties (I said duty) off to Postage while he goes to squeeze the lemon.

 

Finally Pumps and Just Ashley show up with, you guessed it, Dead Fucking Last hare LockNut Monster, for which I almost called him into the circle for a hashshit nomination, but then I catch him fraternizing with my two swingin' ladies!!  Dude bro, not cool hittin'

on my GF's, you're in circle for that shit.

 

Meanwhile Help Me I'm Wet is in circle for rambling on about man thongs for like twenty minutes while we're out there freazin' our buzungas off.  I seriously thought Bama was going to take her down during that incoherent soapbox …. "WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR HASHSHIT NOMINATION HELP ME???"

 

LockNut and Help Me face off for a trial by downdown, during which LNM sabotaged Help Me who subsequently got the hash shit.  I wasn't worried about it; I was keeping three lovely ladies (including Full Service Ass Station) warm while that dickcheese Lock Nut was in the circle pourin beer on his damn self.

 

Well, I'm goin on for a little bit, but suffice it to say, the on-after location was GREAT, they had some fabulous food, for which I did not personally pay for, but I sampled a wide variety of delicacies, including gyros, French fries, fried chicken, shish kabob, and pita bread with hummus.  Whiney let me get down on some of that damn good rotisseried meat, tasties.  Wait, that sounded super gay.

 

OnOn to Thanksgiving!!!

-Cum It Out

 

My plan was simple.  I was stir crazy, needed to get out for an hour or two to see a few fun people, and then go back home to resume my doctor ordered rest.

 

I should have known better. 

 

We gather for chalk talk.  Meta and Locknut described the trail (I think--I talk too damn much and tend to miss quite a bit).  Gladdy asked for a scribe, and SoSo (bless her heart) decided to volunteer me.  I quickly state that I’m not hashing.  And I don’t write. Well, unless you count the 2 incomplete novels on my shelf, collecting dust.  But I digress.

 

The group quickly decided my excuses suck and next thing you know, I am tossed into a kid infested, cramped minivan, auto-hashing.  The plan was simple: I would scribe for the auto-hashers, my brother-in -cum (BIC aka CIO) would scribe for the runners/walkers. 

 

In this kid infested minivan on the way to the first beer stop, Locknut, Whiney and I compare injuries.  Locknut twisted his ankle setting trail earlier, Whiney (who apparently has made 4,000 hashes straight) is recovering from his achy breaky ankle, and me with my Holey Colon.  I think I won that pissing contest, as Whiney immediately did what he does best.

 

The first beer stop….somewhere down by the river, close to train tracks in this big, abandoned lot.  Could not tell you where the hell we were, but it looked rather shady.  Thank GOD I had 2 manly (read: injured) men there to protect me. 

 

Within 5 minutes, the walkers: Garage, Lazy, Bama, and Famous round the corner.  I think it took us longer to drive to the beer stop than it did for the walkers to get there.  Right off the bat, Garage starts to give Lazy a lap dance.  He wasn’t opposed to such attention.  He did get a little squeamish when the boys joined in, but all in all, he was a good sport.

 

There were 2 trains that delayed the runners except for Disco and Postage, who were the FRB’s.  There was a little ball (hehe, little ball) grabbing when asked to recreate the finish for a flash opportunity.  Shrek  and 5 Cubed came in shortly after, but I think they got held up by a train.  The others slowly trickled in (Meta and Halley were the DFL’s), except for those on the Disco Cart, owned driven by the one and only Gay Blade.  I absolutely have no clue who was actually riding in the cart, because I was instantly transported back into time; fondly remembering a CYC dance in 8th grade where Bobby Baker and I slow danced under the glow of a disco ball, similar to the one hanging from the rearview mirror.  I was going to marry that boy.

 

We drank. We danced.  We laughed. We loved.  

 

The hashers, I mean.  Not me and Bobby Baker. And off we went to the second beer stop.  Locknut wanted to have his minivan close to the on after, and we agreed to walk the 3 or 9 blocks to the 2nd beer stop at Molly’s.  Along the way we picked up Dos and Ho-Lateral and made our way to the patio to warm up by the fire and sing about Titmouse’s tits and other such madness.  Halley and I discussed why people might perceive Hashers as swingers (the people, not the movie.  Although the movie is one of my favorites).  My brother in cum (BIC aka CIO) tried to set my hair on fire, but being the considerate man he is, quickly put it out.  He’s a lot like Jesus that way. 

 

My Holey Colon had decided it had enough, so the disco cart took me back to where it had all began.  I tried to sneak out, but ran into Just Tim and Sexorcist at the Tip Top place (which surprisingly had a very clean bathroom).  Gay Blade ordered the chicken platter, and Ricky’s Crab Shack took me back to his car where he was selling his nuts like it was crack or faux Fendi’s.  He also threw in his porn catalog as a bonus.

 

I came home, popped a few of RCS’s nuts in my mouth while browsing the best of the best in porn. It was a lovely night.

 

Cum It Out can tell you the rest.  I’m pretty sure I’ll never be asked to write hash trash again, as Meta says I can be a bit “wordy”. 

 

Good times.

 

Respectfully submitted,

Orgy Cum Dumpster.

 

  

Cyanide and Happiness, a daily webcomic
Cyanide & Happiness @ Explosm.net


Directions:

Location:  There is an open parking lot across the street from The Tip Top on the corner of South 9th and Victor; 2501 South 9th.  This is the same location we had the 666 hash at last year the night before Thanksgiving.  Postage - try not to lose your wallet this time.
 
Don't let the Soulard location fool you, there will be a trail.  This is not a pub crawl.  Bring a flash light, shiggy socks and some dry clothes. 
 
From the South exit Hwy 55 at the Broadway exit next to the AB/IB brewery.  Take Broadway to Sidney and turn left.  Go one block and turn right on South 9th.  The parking lot will be on your right at the end of the first block. 
 
From B-Ville, North County or West County:  Get yourself headed south on Hwy 55, that's away from downtown for those of you who are directionally challenged.  Exit at Arsenal and turn left toward the brewery.  Take Arsenal to Broadway and turn left.  Take Broadway to Sidney and turn left.  Go one block and turn right on South 9th.  The parking lot will be on your right at the end of the first block.
 
On-After:  Across the street at the Tip Top.  tiptopinsoulard.com  I think there might be band that night.  Probably Serbian music.  Don't worry, with enough beer you'll be able to understand the lyrics. 
 
On-After, after, after, after, after:  Thursday - Thanksgiving dinner at Meta's
 
On-On!  Meta  314-393-2072

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