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Wednesday 06/02/2010 #865

Witty Titty Carrot Committee and Waldo's Pimp @ ???

Hash Trash:

TrashMuch beloved old-school hashers Witty Titty Carrot Committee and Waldo’s Pimp hosted a hash. Here’s how it went.

We met at an elementary school, where Bend Over Granny violated his court-ordered “not within 100 yards of” rule. His ankle bracelet flashed some lights, but didn’t make any noise.

It was thought that the angry-looking soccer moms weren’t going to appreciate us flaunting our independence by drinking brews right in front of them, so we moved circle to a more mosquito-infested area.

Rudy wore a baby-pink shirt, and presided over circle.

Witty and Waldo were blessed, took off and we questioned Just Rebecca. I heard, “blah blah blah blah singer in a folky band blah blah blah.” I hope to see this band someday. Also, she did something with the male parts of corn, annnnd shit. It’s been over a week. I forget. But there was some good stuff there.

So we get moving on trail and are immediately cookie-deep in shiggy of the wet persuasion. I hope nobody slips... Or gets cut... Or runs fast without looking and smacks their cranium into a concrete tunnel... No time for that because before you know it, we are being instructed by trail to go ahead and shimmy on down past the sign that says “NO SWIMMING! RAW SEWAGE! STAY AWAY!” Mudpacker was actually going to give me a piggyback ride, until I noticed that it was still deep enough for me to get my cookie wet, so the non-death-wish portion of us tried to keep up on dry land, and brave the poison ivy instead of the poop. We all met at the beer stop and drank crappy beer.

On out to find the 2nd promised beer stop. We get cruisin’, and eventually find some landscaping stones... Follow trail up the stones until we are quickly about a full story from the ground, with prickly bushes below and a tall, flimsy fence separating us from the safety of the parking lot on the other side. There was nothing, however, separating us from from the gal that was mad at us for simply following true trail. Maybe it was the Bud Ice can in my hand (“We’re a running club, I swear!”). Maybe it was Hit By a Car sniffing her crotch (“IS THIS YOUR DOG?????”). Maybe it was Shot By a Whore calling her “Lady” (“Listen, LADY...”). Whatever it was, she was none too pleased, and threatened to call the 5-0. And she made good on that threat because after Hummers forced me through and told me to quit trying to reason with her, we find the end, keep up with true trail, and see the occifer cruising around looking confused. That’s when we really turn into a running club. Luckily we had the charm of Cum It Out and Running Nose to talk to the nice occifer, and he went away. Garage A Trois still thought we should run in a zig-zag, just in case.

By now it’s dark, and the newer hashers have no idea what the hell is going on, but they know they’ll be back. We FINALLY find the 2nd beer stop and dive into the stash and some folks get ready to ride back in Lazy Ass’s cheater shaggin wagon. Then, to everyone’s delight, we see a half-nekkid Diggity Diggity sprinting towards us. I just thought she was being racist, but she had a serious message to deliver. Bend Over Granny ran cranium first into a concrete tunnel and was bleeding like it was the end of the month, but from his face. Soooo the most responsible of the hashers Lazy (only because he was the only one  with a vehicle), OCD (she is good at taking care of shit) and Diggity (she knew where he was) jumped in the Megavan and went to get him. Of the handful of words that Diggity could muster after her half-mile sprint, “blood” was about 1/3 of them.

Most of the slow-ass eagles hadn’t made it back yet, so we waited around for about one minute before we decided we need to get back with the quickness, so Waldo took off laying the trail back. The eagles showed up while we were packing up and whatever. We took trail back to Witty and Dancing Queen’s lovely backyard where dirty hashers took Mexican showers in their kids’ baby pool, and commenced in an informal hula hoop contest. I’m proud to announce that I won that contest, and my prize was a Watermelon flavored cocksicle, which I guess I’ll use for practice.

Circle commences. Ummmmm. Some awful songs were sung for all of Witty and DQ’s neighbors to hear. Boobs from the 2nd story made me feel like I was at Mardi Gras. Beer ran out. Dewey went for beer, but couldn’t find any. Diggity drove Cum It Out for beer and found some. We drank it. Hashshit went to Bend Over Granny for NOT BENDING OVER (high-five to Witty for that nomination!!) Big Bush stepped up and consumed the plungerita for Granny. Announcements included that Granny would be at the on-after and would appreciate some boobs in his face after his ordeal. I didn’t get to the on-after because I suck, so I hope that’s what happened there.

Also, Homolateral Damage was wearing 2 pairs of shorts. I just wanted an excuse to say Homolateral.

In short:
Death Sewage River of Poop
Death Ledge of Cranky Homeowners Mad About Nothing?
Death Tunnel of Potential Actual Death
Death Circle of No Beer
Death Hashshit of Watermelon Cocksicle


It was a most shitty trail.

Do My Butt



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


Directions:

Big Hump Run 865: Trail of Secrets

The start will be at Steger School in Rock Hill. This is an A-B trail. We will not be circling up at the cars, so don't go back there!

There will be two beer stops. One might involve halfway decent beer. 

Directions from 40: Exit on McKnight. Go south. Cross Manchester. Go down a hill, through a three-way stop, and immediately turn right into the school parking lot. Go to the back and look for hashers.

From I-44: Exit on Elm. go north. Turn left on Lockwood. turn right on Rock Hill Rd. Turn left into Steger Sixth Grade Center.

Metrolink - no
Wheelchair friendly - no, but we'll figure out something for you, Lazy
Bring a flashlight.

On-after will be at Trainwreck in Rock Hill.

Witty's #314.714.5237


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