[MY HUMBLEST OF APOLOGIES TO OUR MOST ESTEEMED PRESIDENT]
Text of President
Barack Obama' LUCYs inaugural
BIG-HUMP address HASH TRASH on TuesdayWednesday, as delivered TO
PMS BY EMAIL.
My fellow HASHERS:
I stand here today humbled by the HASH before us, grateful for the trust you have bestowed ON THE HASH SCRIBE, mindful of the BEER borne by our PRE-HUMAN ancestors. I thank THE HARES for THEIR service to our HASH.
THIRTY Americans have now GATHERED AT HESSLER'S. The HASH HAS GONE ON during rising tides of prosperity and the still waters of peace. Yet, every so often the HASH OCCURS amidst gathering clouds and raging storms. At these moments, BIG HUMP has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in MISMANAGEMENT, but because we the people have remained faithful to the ideals of our BEER, true to our founding documents.
So it has been. So it must be with this HASH.
That we are in the midst of A WARMING TREND is now well understood. Our HASH is at war, against a far-reaching network of COPS AND HOBOS. Our BEER SUPPLY is badly weakened, a consequence of greed and irresponsibility on the part of some BEERMIESTERS, but also our collective failure to make hard choices and prepare the COOLERS for a new age. GARAGES A TROIS have been lost; CLOTHES shed; PUBLIC PARKS shuttered. Our HABADASHERY is too costly; our BEER COOLERS fail too many; and each HASH brings further evidence that the ways we use PIZZA HUT DELIVERY strengthen our LAUGHS and threaten WHINEY'S RIDE.
These are the indicators of HASHING, subject to data and statistics. Less measurable but no less profound is a sapping of confidence HASHERS DRAGGING CHICK CHECKS — a nagging fear that America's decline is inevitable, and that the next generation must lower its DRAWERS.
Today I say to you that the challenges we face are real. They are serious and they are many. They will not be met easily or in a short span of time. But know this, RED BULL PROMOTERS — they will be met.
On this day, we gather because we have chosen hope over NOTHING BETTER TO DO, unity of purpose over GLADIATOR and DMB.
On WEDNESDAY, we come to proclaim an end to the PREMATURE BN'S and false promises, the recriminations and SOUTH COUNTY COPS, that for far too long have INTERFERED WITH BEER FUELED TRYSTS BETWEEN FULL SERVICE AND GUATAMALAN SHE-HOBOS.
We remain a young HASH, but in the words of HASH BIBLE, the time has come to set aside SOBER things. The time has come to reaffirm our enduring RUNNING WITH TOO FEW FLOUR BLOBS; to choose our HASH SHITS; to carry forward that PLUNGER, that noble VESSEL, passed on from PMS to FEW OTHERS: the POSTAGE TRAMP-given promise that all are SINNERS, all are DRUNK and all deserve a chance to pursue their full measure of CHICK CHECKS.
In reaffirming the SPEEDINESS of our 5-BUCKS, we understand that greatness is RACIST. It must be SLOWED DOWN. Our journey has never been one of shortcuts or COMING IN FIRST. It has not been the TRAIL for the faint-hearted — for those who prefer RUNNING over GETTING LOST, or seek only the pleasures of WARMTH and SOBREITY. Rather, it has been the CIRCLE JERK-takers, the DFL'S, the makers of BEER — some celebrated but more often men and women obscure in their SINNING, who have carried GARAGE A TROIS up the long, rugged path towards LINDBURGH and TESSON FERRY.
For THE HASHERS, they packed up their fSORRY BUTTS and traveled across DEEP DARK SOUTH COUNTY in search of a new TRAIL.
For THE HARES, they toiled in sweatshops and settled the WHITE CASTLE; endured the lash of the whip and RAN the hard earth.
For us, they DRANK and TRESPASSED, in places like Concord and BOHRER PARK; PIZZA HUT and SUBURBS.
Time and again these MIDGETS and women struggled and sacrificed and worked till their hands were FLOURED so that we might live a better TRAIL. They saw SOUTH COUNTY as bigger than the sum of our individual LIBIDOS; greater than all the differences of birth or wealth or FACIAL HAIR.
This is the HANG-OVER we continue today. We remain the most prosperous, powerful HASH on WEDNESDAYS. Our CIRCLES are no less BORING than when this HASH began. Our minds are SO less inventive, our TITS and services no less needed than they were last week or last month or last year. Our DEBAUCHERY remains undiminished. But our time of standing IN CIRCLE, of protecting narrow WAISTS and putting off unpleasant PINTS OF LAGER — that time has surely passed. Starting today, we must pick our CROTCHES, GET ourselves off, and begin again the work of THE ON-AFTER.
For everywhere we look, there is TRAIL to be done. The state of the BEER calls for action, bold and COLD, and we will DRINK — not only to create new BLOW jobs, but to lay a new . We will CROSS the roads and bridges, the SEWERS and PRIVATE PROPERTY that feed our DISORIENTATION and HASH HOLD us together. We will restore HASING to its rightful place, and wield BEER'S wonders to raise health care's quality and lower its cost. We will HASH IN the sun and the winds and the COLD to fuel our THIRST and run our RUNS. And we will transform WHINEY'S HEADBANDS and FULL ST'S TITS and CELERY'S CROTCH to meet the demands of 50-RUN CELEBRATORS. All this we can do. All this we will do SINCE NO ONE CAN GET AHOLD OF FRESH & NEW HEADBANDS.
Now, there are some who question the scale of CELERY'S ambitions — who suggest that our system cannot tolerate too many BITCHES. Their memories are short. For they have forgotten WHO SHE has already done; what WELL GROOMED GIRLY DOGS and women can achieve when imagination is joined to AN UNNATRUAL purpose, and necessity to FLASH.
What the WHINEY'S fail to understand is that the RICKY'S CRAB SHACK has shifted beneath them — that the stale CIRCLE arguments that have consumed us for so long no longer GET DOWN-DOWNS. The question we ask today is not whether A MALE HASHER is too big or too small, but whether it works — whether THE HASH helps families find jobs at a decent BARS, PUB FOOD they can afford, a DRUNKEN REPOSE that is dignified. Where the answer is yes, we intend to move forward AND BACK. Where the answer is no, SWING LOW will end. Those of us who manage the HASH'S dollars will be held to account — to spend wisely, reform bad CASES OF THE CRABS THAT WERE LESS THAN 20 MONTHS AGO, and do our business BEHIND DUMPSTERS — because only then can we restore the vital TRYST between a people and their PORNO.
Nor is the question before us whether the HASH is a force for good or ill. Its power to generate HANGOVERS and expand WOOD is unmatched, but this HASH has reminded us that without a watchful eye, TWO HARRIETTES ALONE IN A CAR can spin out of control — and that a nation cannot prosper long when it favors only the FRONTRUNNERS. The success of our HASH has always depended not just on the size of our PACK, but on the reach of our HAMMERTONGUE; on our ability to extend A GAYBLADE to every willing heart — not out of HO HUM, but because I CUNT HEAR YOU is the surest route to our common good.
As for our LACK OF HASH-FLASHES, we reject as false the choice between our VISAGE and our GROUP SHOT. Our founding fathers ... our found PROPERTY, faced with perils we can scarcely imagine, drafted HASH TRASH to assure the CELERY of law and the rights of VIRGINS, a charter expanded by the blood of HARIETTES. Those ideals still light the PUSSY FART, and we will  give IT up for expedience's sake. And so to all the other HARES and HASHERS who are DRINKING today,  know that BIG HUMP is a SPECIAL friend WITH BENEFITS of each nation and every man, woman, and child who seeks a future of BEER and INdignity, and that we are ready to HASH once more.
Recall that earlier generations faced down PROHIBITION and INBEV not just with CHECKBACKS and WHICHY-WAYS, but with sturdy alliances and enduring COITUS. They understood that our RUNNING alone cannot protect us, nor does it entitle us to TREPASSING as we please. Instead, they knew that our LIBIDO grows through its prudent use; our BEER emanates from the justness of our RA, the force of our WHISTLES, the tempering qualities of NIGHTFALL and LIVER FUNCTION.
We are the keepers of this legacy. Guided by these HARES once more, we can meet those new TRAILS that demand even greater effort — even greater BOOZE TOLERANCES and understanding between 5 BUCKS AND GARAGE. We will begin to responsibly leave SOUTH COUNTY to its people, and forge a hard-earned peace in SOUTH CITY ON SATURDAY. With old friends and former VIRGINS, we will HASH tirelessly to lessen the FLABBY threat, and roll back the FORESKIN of a warming BEER. We will not apologize for our way of RUNNING, nor will we waver in its defense, and for those who seek to advance their aims by inducing SOBERIETY and UNOFFENDING innocents, we say to you now that our spirit is A BEDPAN and cannot be broken; you cannot outlast us, and we will OUT-DRINK you.
For we know that our patchwork heritage is a strength, not a weakness. We are a nation of CITYFOLK and ILLINOISEIANS, COUNTYANS and OTHER DRUNKARDS — and MUDPACKER non-believers. We are shaped by every BREWERY and SONG, drawn from every end of this Earth; and because we have tasted the bitter swill of M'WAKEE'S BEAST and TURKEY-EAGLE segregation (ON OTHER TRAILS), and emerged from that dark PEE STOP stronger and more HALE, we cannot help but believe that the old BEER shall someday pass; that the lines of SWEAT shall soon dissolve; that as the world grows DAMPER, our common humanity shall RELIEVE itself; and that HASHING must play its role in ushering in a new era of DRUNKEN-NESS.
To the SOBER RACIST world, we seek a new way OF RUNNING forward, based on mutual interest and mutual MASTERBATION. To those HASHERS around the globe who seek to sow OATS, or blame their society's ills on the NEAR BEER — know that your people will judge you on what you can DRINK, not what you PLACE IN A RACE. To those who cling to RUNNING through SHIGGYLESS TRAILS and STOPWATCHES and the silencing of RIBAULD SONGS, know that you are on the wrong side of history; but that we will extend a hand if you are willing to unclench your RUNNING SHORTS.
To the people of poor PLACES WITHOUT A HASH, we pledge to GROPE alongside you to make your GREEN DRESS flourish and let BEER flow; to nourish starved BEERBELLIES and CORRUPT hungry minds. And to those CITIES like ours that enjoy relative plenty OF HASHES, we say we can no longer afford indifference to the suffering outside OF ST. LOUIS; nor can we consume the world's BEER without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must HASH with it.
As we consider the TRAIL that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave HASHERS who, at this very hour, POUND far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in THE BATHROOM AT HESSLER'S whisper through the ages. We honor them not only because they are guardians of THE TOILET, but because they embody the spirit of FULL service ASS STATION; a willingness to find meaning in A VOLUME OF BEER greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment — a moment that will define a TRAIL — it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all.
For as much as HARES can do and must do, it is ultimately the faith and determination of the PACK upon which this HASH relies. It is the kindness to take in a stranger when the levees break, the selflessness of 5 BUCKS who would rather FIND GARAGE A TROIS than see a friend lose their WAY which sees us through our darkest BEERSTOPS. It is the VIRGIN's courage to storm a HASH filled with CHECK, but also a RED BULLETTE's willingness to nurture a CLIFFBANGER, that finally decides our fate.
Our TRAILS may NOT be new. The SHOES with which we meet them may NOT be new. But those values upon which our DEBAUCHERY depends — hard SOMETHING OR OTHER and honesty, courage and fair WAYS, TWO-DOTTERS and curiosity, loyalty and FREE BEER — these things are old. These things are true TRAIL MARKERS. They have been the quiet force of HASHING throughout our history. What is demanded then is a return to these OLD ON-INS. What is required of us now is a new era of BIG HUMP — a recognition, on the part of every HASHER, that we have duties to ourselves, our MIDGETS, and the LUMBERJACKS, duties that we do not GRUNTINGLY accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the CARNAL knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the HASHER, so defining of our BEER TOLERANCE, than giving our ASSES to a difficult task.
This is the price and the promise of HASHING.
This is the source of our BEER — the knowledge that POSTAGE TRAMPS calls on us to WRITE A HASH TRASH ABOUT an uncertain destiny.
This is the meaning of our RUNNING and our DRINKING — why HASHERS and HARETTES and VIRGINS of every race and every faith can join in ALCOHOLIC celebration across this magnificent TRAIL, and why a HASHER whose HOMEHASH less than sixty years ago WAS IN AFRICA can now  take a most sacred TEXT AND DEFILE IT.
So let us mark this day with remembrance, of who we are PMS AND STATION FULL OF ASS and how far we have traveled. In the MONTH of CLIFFY/GARAGE/LUCY's birth, in the coldest of CLIMATES, a small band of HASHERS huddled by dying STRIPMALLS on the shores of an icy river. The GARAGE a TROIS was abandoned. The POPO was advancing. The TRAIL was stained with FLOUR. At a moment when the outcome of our DRINKING was most in doubt, the father of our HASH ordered these words be SUNG to the people:
"SWING LOW ... SWEET CHARIOT, CUMMING 'FORE TO CARRY US HOME."
BIG HUMP, in the face of our common VICES, in this winter of our hardship [How could I change that??], let us remember these timeless words. With hope and BEER, let us RUN once more the icy TRAIL, and endure what HANGOVERS may come. Let it be said by our children's children that when we were HASHING we refused to let this journey end WITHOUT BEER, that we did not turn back nor did we SHORTCUT; and with eyes fixed on the MARKS and BACCHUS' grace upon us, we carried forth that great BEER of BELGIUM and delivered it safely to OUR LIVERS.
Thank you. RA bless you. And RA bless the MOST PROFANE USE OF THIS SPEECH.