| Ain't that the truth? Our 53rd hash got pretty knarly last night. The looks on both the patrons and workers of the Shack convinced me that we are indeed a depraved, morally bereft group. Department Store in Chicago was bad enough, but to bring the S&M Man out in a family environment like a sports bar is just wrong…. But it felt so right!
But I get ahead of myself. Our depravity began well before the on-after... We'd finished our first drink by 5:35. The second by 5:45. Shots of Tequila shortly ensued. Only two hashers and the two hares had showed, but such numbers encourage... sooo much beer for too few drinkers. Let us say that our mood was joyous as our members swelled....the ranks I mean. People started to show up! We had Fluffer and Gag Order, Sprinkle and Matzo, Doolittle and Ass-Tear Both drank with our Slug-Ho. We had Papa and virgin, Just Beth with an Ass-Crotch, Chantelle with her virgin! And of course we drank a lot. But do you recall, The most bloody virgin of all…… To the Hares! The Mechanical Bull and BrokeBackCheck. Here’s to you, we’re no fools. You’re both wankers through and through. Tried to lay a trail, so they say. Led us round and round but we went the other way! Now, I know this for a fact. BrokeBackCheck just finished watching his namesake. He must have been touched by images and sounds of manly, gentle caresses. Because I swear those two spent a LOT of time up on the hill together. And that’s just not natural. It sure gets lonely up there… makes me wonder how they ever quit each other. But his newfound orientation didn’t stop the two from laying a challenging, intriguing trail. A couple of creek walks. Cold, bountiful beer checks, and a little trespassing. Good Thursday! It was still a SHITTY Trail. Though you got to “Whip it out at the ballgame” instead of admit it. So while these wankers were devising their deceptions, we buggered along with much whistle blowing and self-deceiving deceptions… The Sperminator was thrice misled by Slug-Ho into a YBF. BURN! Some finer moments of recollection from the trail… CumSquat – This virgin has so much to learn! Two offenses, well one actually, but the other… well we’ll let the group decide. Violation #1! – After the trail led us down Cerro San Luis, it ran into Stenner Creek. Papa, who brought this virgin, was allowed to hitch a ride for the length of the creek, roughly ¼ of a mile…. On HIS BACK! Apparently chivalry is gender neutral. Creek walks are for hashers! Violation #2! – On the way to the creek, he stops, runs onto a lawn, and gingerly chooses the ripest, most succulent cumquat he can find. The opportunities here are ripe for the naming… Just Chantelle – The indomitable beer wench from Hashes past, graced us with her buoyant presence. And to show her lack of grace… she went to piss under someone’s house (while they were home, watching from the kitchen window) and she squats only to find a dog has dedicated its life to preventing such types from doing exactly that, and she came out wild-eyed and screaming as if ex-Spike’s employees were after her. A chilling prospect. Oh Craigslist, may your powers be praised. For I believe the second time it has delivered virgins to our wanton embellishments. Just Allison, Just Patrick, welcome to SLOH3. For virgins, they had a nose for the front, and at every check were in the top 6 or so. Oh, and all you wankers, we went through more than 100 beers last night. Stick a feather in your ass for that. To the Down-Down Circle! Virgins First… Best Joke – Just Allison, in her eagerness to show us a body part… had perfect timing as all attention focused on her next move, rolls up her sleeve, and…. FLIPS US ALL OFF! It was brilliant. I wonder what else that finger is good for? Best Song – Someone actually bust out with the Ducktales Theme! From like 1990! And, to mark my age… I knew most of the words too. Such a sad, sad man I am. Naming Ceremony... As I alluded to above, who is the bloodiest Virgin of all? Here’s a hint. He’s a school teacher, he bled his first time. And he came back enough to lose his prior identity. First Period, welcome to the Named, a wholly unreasonable group that consists of babble and half baked witticisms. Passing of the Hashit... Dr. Doolittle, after making his addition of a plastic gorilla impaling a helpless deer with his King-Kong sized member… (truly he knows more about animal genitalia than he would like to admit…) nominated Slug-Ho to be the bearer of our totem. Oddly enough, during the vote, it seemed to me that only Sperminator voted for Dr. Doolittle to keep it. Wouldn’t a more fitting revenge for his misguided leadership be to stick Sluggy with the Hashit? And to think we were going to adopt you. And while the hash was most enjoyable, it was the On-After that deserves some attention. Instead of the traditional Spikes, we went to the Shack. After ordering GOOD FOOD for once, and large volumes of amber ales… we sat down to our peanuts. Which soon became ammunition for cross table tosses, beer dunks, and forehead targeted precision bombs. No one was immune, for while Matzo wanted to make a good first impression on the Shack, begged and pleaded for us to stop. Which is interesting, because after learning that the Shack is traditionally a rowdy place, and this is part of its appeal, HE was the one who started leading “Head, who said Head?” for the whole bar. Which was then parlayed into another table singing some pretty gross songs about bears and assfucking. Which then led to a rousing chorus of Chicago Department Store. Concluded with too many verses of the S&M Man, which by the time they actually finished, had literally cleared the bar. Hell of a good impression there Matzo. Give you an inch, and you take an orgasm. Only like all of what I wrote was the truth this time. Fred Ass-Tear |