2003 BVDH3 Hash Trash
HASH DISCLAIMER: IT ONLY HAS TO BE 10% TRUE TO BE TRASH!
#83 - New Park, Palm Bay
January 18, 2003
Saturday is hashing day but this was no ordinary day for the BVD crowd. No sir, this was a cold hashing day! No problem, we had beer and Fire to keep us warm! Despite some confusing directions the pack plus two virgins gathered at New Park in Palm Bay. After a short bit of socializing our virgin hare Fuckelberry gave us our chalk talk. Now when I say virgin I do mean virgin! Fuckels looked as nervous as a young lad about to taste a woman for the first time! Dr. Anus (wanting to get out of the cold) eased the "deer in the headlight look" and completed the chalk talk.
On-Out. Trail started off through the quaint neighborhoods of northern Palm Bay before quickly splitting into turkey and eagle trails. Into light shiggy we went and thanks a few count backs yours truly (slowest of the slow hashers) found him self as the FRB! That could not last long and did not as the true FRBs finished their turkey trail and ran right by us. Out of the shiggy and in to the hood past two killer poodles we went. Finally a BN sent us in to the woods for our first beer stop of the day. A few of us took this moment to relieve our selves of our start point beer. We explained to virgin Just Laura that is ok to use the TP on trail, just put it back so we don't lose a mark. In true hasher fashion Just Laura responded that she was fine with "drip dry". (Note to self: Remember this when naming time comes around!)
On-Out 2. Woods and shiggy started the next part of the trail so thick that it kept the whole pack together, even those running bastards. Soon we departed the woods and were faced with a ditch much too wide to jump. The FRBs were all ready on the other side and promised that it was much too far to go around and not that deep. Dear Miss Shooter in a moment for all blonde time decided a water crossing was in order. Just a mere 2 steps and she plunged in, swimming the rest of the way. Dark muddy water splashed about and all I could see was blonde hair headed for the other side. The crowd on the on the other could barely contain their laughter as they fled form the angry muddy Shooter that was trying to catch them. As for me, well I am just glad I peed at the last beer stop. I would have wet myself watching that one for sure! Bless you Shooter. That was one of the funniest things I have ever seen on trail!
Those of us that were still on the back sided decided that we were going around now matter how far it was! Lucky for us it was only about 50 ft. Being much kinder than his current reputation Suck-U-Later was quick to give the shirt of his back to Shooter who was now shaking as bad as Under Cover Cunt. I think he was just trying to see her tits. No luck there as thee were incased in a sports bra from hell. Bra or no bra the red neck who's yard this took place in still enjoyed the show. Following a trail along I-95 we came to another water crossing. This one was a bit different than the last. Way to wide to jump and no way around. There were some fallen logs that were placed across the ditch and Dr. Anus was instructing us to cross using the logs. Panic started to sink in for those who had yet to cross. As I approached the bridge Short Straw stood on the other side taking bets weather the fallen limbs could hold me. Cumsickel pleaded to go first fearing there would be no bridge when her turn arived. One by one the hounds made it across until it was my turn. Much to the dismay of the on looking crowd I made it across with all the grace of...... well, more grace than Stumbilina at least!
On-Out 3. Up the opposing shore we were at our second beer stop. After a short break the runners were sent down the eagle trail and the walkers were sent back across the tree bridge. This time Dr. Anus gallantly waded into the ditch to help us cross the logs. Even the mighty (and homophobic) Ass Packet was willing to hold hands with the good doctor to keep his tootsies dry. We thought we were going straight back to the cars but Anus could not resist one last count back! Back on the main road we were greeted with trash on the street that looked strangely failure. Fuckels forgetting to put his tailgate up had dumped our stuff (INCLUDING BEER!) on the street! Luckily the police car that drove by did not seem to care much!
On-In! Circle time! The circle took a while to get started and it was getting colder! Beer and cheese poofs were scarffed down as the torture devices were prepared. Chairs filled with ice, mugs filled w/ beer, hashers all around and one Stumbles w/ a pint of vodka,, it must be circle time. Stepping in for our missing RA Just Puke kick things off. Hares, virgins, DFL, FRB all did down downs. On to the HUYA! Immediately after sitting on ice to pass the HUYA I was attacked by Cumsickel! She wanted some revenge for my sitting on her lap during her naming. Add Socks on top of us, take a few pics and lets go! This stuff is cold!! Despite Shooter's choosing to swim on a dry trail I gave the HUYA to Fuckels for dumping beer on the street in front of the law. Bad, very bad. Rumor has it that the HUYA was stolen at the on-after but that is another story. A few more accusational down downs and this hash was done.
That is how I saw it. May the hash go in peace!
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February 1st, 2003
Hares: Ass Packit, Circle Blow
Hounds: Dr. Anus, Ass Squealer, Bike Bitch, Dick Sniffer, Dollar in It, Fire In Da Hole, FuCkleberry, In My Mouth, Short Straw, and Stumblina
One should already know things are not gong to be good when the Hare (Haulin ASS_PACKIT) starts out with the ominous words "No Chalk Talk Required, Y'all are all experienced Hashers". Boy was that a HUGE mistake. Especially when he advises those with TECH to take it with them.
After an impromptu Father Abraham for which NO SONGMEISTER was present AGAIN. The Hare, Hares, ride alongs (sniffa) pointed out the beginning of the trail. The pack found these faded half arrow looking chalk marks so we started in the right direction. Shortly though we came upon an X, after the arrows it was thought that the Hare had forgotten to draw a circle around his check because no more marks were found if you went straight. Well after ranging @ 15 minutes and no marks were found and many "What the F___?". It was discovered that the Hare had decided to veer from the sidewalk and put smaller marks up in the Walgreen parking lot. OK, back on track. Well Anus finds another arrow and bolts across Palm Bay Rd. While the rest of the pack finds other marks and continues along Palm Bay Rd. (Trash NOTE: if you want us to cross a busy ROAD, crossing at the light is easier and safer than having us do it 50 ft from it). Well the pack is pretty divided at this point with everybody but Anus going East. Anus has found Flour while everybody else follows transparent chalk. I decide to check out Anus way and hustle my fat ass along. I see the flour and some True Trail Arrow and there's Anus way out there. So I just head (HEAD) straight to where I saw him last. Anus is no longer in sight so I start ranging since I haven't the foggiest idea where the damn trail is. I find flour and a True Trail into the shiggy. Not hearing any whistles in front or behind I plunge in and follow TP stopping in the middle of a field when I no longer see trail. After looking for 10 minutes up come running Anus And Fuckel, apparently I had missed count backs YBF and who knows what else. All of a sudden something to the right looks like a mark and we plow thru under brush and back on PB rd we are. Crossing again we start to range looking for some sign from GOD. When we hear BB's whistle sounding like he's On-On so we stop ranging and head back only to hear that he?s trying to locate the rest of the pack (Bad Bitch). Well Anus and Fuckle decide it's a good day for a marathon so take off down PB. I wasn't going anywhere without a sign from up above. Finally the stragglers catch up and Stumbles in her infinite wisdom finds a TT arrow going into a car Wash with a Check in the middle (this time with a circle) After much round about everybody is together and back on track by BJ?s the FRB?s (guess who) find a YBF and we go around this pond to only end up just past the YBF (silly Rabbit Trix are for Kids). We find another Intersection and the FRB's have ruled out 2 directions one with a YBF and nothing in the other. We see TP and go only to find nothin else. On-On is heard only to have Anus shouting that's the YBF. Oh well up and over we went and trail is on again. BN and people are looking to string up some Hares. No HAWGs due to the cowardly cojones of our Hare (AP) but he does tell us the general directions of where they are but after the trail so far nobody trusts his directions and decline to go searching. It is discovered that Bike Bitch has camel toe showing. Well after a much deserved BEER and some wussy water, off we go
Those funny faded arrows again. (What?s wrong with big ol' plops of flour?). We get to a point where we no longer see arrows or intersection so it's back to ranging Anus heads one way I another. Nothin in his direction, Nothing in mine we expand the search. He finds a YBF , so we ask ourselves where the HELL was the CHECK? Oh well Ranging further we hear On-On again Stumbles is becoming a HASH idiot savant as again she finds trail (the direction the ANUS said none existed). Ok after meandering we are back behind the Bowling alley in to Crack Haven Apts. We now know where AP got his stash we just want to know "HOW MUCH CRACK DID HE SMOKE" prior to laying this trail? I see Anus and Fuckle way off in the front going back and forth and can lip read the "WHAT THE F-----?" I take an angle and more or less catch up the rest of the pack. Thru some barren field and BN is being laid out by none other than Anus. Hmm I thought that was the Hares job. Oh yeah the FRB made the end before the Hares. Ok eventually everybody makes it in with Stumbles sprinting the last 20 ft not to be DFL.
Circle starts with a moment of reverence for our fallen comrades on the Space Shuttle. Zippy from colorado is remembered and a toast to G. Hares on the ice is heard around the world. AP and Circle Blow get on the chairs of death . That AP sure does expose alot of skin Eeew. FRB (anus) DFL (dollar in it) are on the Chairs of death. Many other accusations are made (or made up as the case may be). Finally the moment we waited for our Long gone Bike Bitch gets to experience the Chair of Death. Well he sits there for @ the amount of time he missed for all the hashes combined (can you say Frost bite). Finally Fuckle is seated and the Huya is brought forth and also the thief is revealed (ANUS) they drink and the Huya is returned to Fuckle who will now sleep with it till the next Hash.
On-Out to the Porn Shack to clean up then to Beefs for ..... Beer and wings after many week attempts at flirting with the waitress people go off to Corvettes or JD's . Much more drinking and lying to each other and more people go to Corvettes, Anus and myself stick around for another $4 pitcher. And after chatting up some over endowed chickie poo are blamed of cheating on our wives. HMMM ok maybe too much beer was had cause I Plum forgot I was married. Oh well time to join the other drunks at Corvettes. Other shenanigans go on but that's a story for another day.
It you think this was too long. Remember it the next time you ask me to do the trash! - Short Straw
P.S. - Things I learned from this trail.
1. Always have CHALK TALK
2. Anus is a much better Hare than a hound.
3. Anus's favorite phrase "What the F___?"
4. When in doubt wait for Stumblina to catch up and lead the way.
5. Never let Ass Packet Hare without Anus.
6. WHISTLES are a great tool, everybody should get one.
7. Cheesy Poofs still suck even more when stale.
8. Intersection marks and MANhole covers do not mix
9. If you show up at the circle all dressed up (Happy Meal ) you will be declared new DFL and made to sit on Ice.
May the Hash go in peace!
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#85 - Sniffa & Shooter Hash
February 15th, 2003
Hares: Dick Sniffa and Salad Shooter
Hounds: In My Mouth, Suckulator, Dr Anus, Ass Packet, Bike Bitch, Circle Blow, , Yanksit, Fire, Happy Meal, Cumsicle, Short Straw, Sir Flatulot, Uncle Pervey, FuCkleberry, Crotch Duster, Cockpit, Stumbelina, Ass Squealer, Just Carlo
Visitors: Gilligan, Flash from Daytona
Virgins: Just Mom, Just Jean and Just Sloan
It was a beautiful summery afternoon when we arrived at Wacky Wings on Merritt Island. The BVD Hash Flag was blowing in the wind and we were immediately invited to play a game of Frogger across the busy 520 road as Wing's parking lot was too small to hold our extra large group. BIKE BITCH acquired some white Challenger remembrance ribbons for us to pin on while we drank beer awaiting the shotgun start of our Birthday Hash trail. He was also peddling our favorite green habberdashery t-shirts (it looked just like a lemonade stand with him in his birthday party hat). The Hares, of course, were dressed for the theme in their velvet party dresses - (they wore underwear - several folks checked). JUST CARLO was also quite striking, dressed in his best BVD hand-painted tuxedo shirt complete with tails. I also heard GILLIGAN was giving away kisses with the wrappers on. SIR FLATULOT led us in Father Abraham and also treated us with a "7 days of the week" song- something about 2-finger day, which turned into 5-finger day, hashing day, fucking day, drinking day, cunnilingus day (we already couldn't pronounce it so we just made the motion with our tongues between our fingers) , all complete with animation of course. Is that seven ?- who cares - I said this would be a long one. We also had a chalk talk with a new thing called COMBO. There were several questions about COMBO that pushed us off to an even later start. Must have something to do with the disappearing trail that even a blind man couldn't follow. FIRE, our hash flash, takes a group shot and the hares were away somewhere around 2:45 SHT.
We set off in a westerly direction and quickly got off the pavement into some shiggy. IN MY MOUTH demonstrated running like a girl and further explained how it takes way too much energy to do so. Our usual FRBs were heading the pack and took the eagle route through some dense and scratchy shiggy. YANKSIT, FUCKLEBERRY, SIR FLATULOT and DR ANUS all arrived later at the circle with various scratches, cuts and bloody legs. They chose the water crossing, while the rest of us walked a nice, well-driven path. SQUEALER and HAPPY MEAL decide to remove their shirts on trail in order to improve aerodynamics. We wandered around in the woods following TP and pink flour marks for quite some time listening to distant whistles. The hares later told us there was a TEQUILA PRIZE somewhere out there and none of us managed to find it, so some camper is going to be REALLY happy. Our first beer stop took a very long time and all the panting hounds crawled a dirt hill, which looked to be some sort of landfill with garbage dotting the landscape (as we didn't know Florida had hills) to pour some suds down our dusty throats. There were many countbacks and YBF's, which is a good thing because JUST MOM and JUST JEAN were bringing up the rear and we were afraid we'd lose them by the end of the day. I am also told COCKPIT AND CROTCHDUSTER engaged in SEX on trail although there were no witnesses and they didn't invite anyone to join in. Greedy, selfish hounds!
We then head off down the hill to what appears to be another water crossing, but we stay dry for a little while, only to find ourselves confronted with a yellow 2-person raft (with NO OARS) and our faces light up as we are about to get WET. SHORT STRAW wasn't ready for sex yet, so he made quick use of the RUBBER, I mean raft, and managed to stay dry, while FIRE, SQUEALER, HAPPY MEAL, CUMSICLE AND JUST SLOAN try their hand at a wet shorts contest. Not with a hose mind you, we chose a very odorous canal with green slimy on the bottom and poles to hang onto every 4 feet across. No one was wearing white, so we quickly lost interest, squeezed out the excess water and went ON-ON. SIR FLATULOT reminded us later to go to the COOTER DOCTOR as there were dead fish in the water. FISHY COOTERS really are a nagging problem indeed and need to be treated. CROTCH DUSTER, COCKPIT, STUMBELINA, JUST MOM AND JUST JEAN managed to find a more lengthy route where only their shoes got wet. At this point, we haven't seen the FRBs in quite some time. We also followed a dock overlooking the water behind a clubhouse, which turns out to be a wedding in progress. We try not to be too much of a distraction and press ON-ON looking for beer.
We get back to civilization, most of us black from the waist down and wearing our squishy shoes from our nasty water crossing (must be payback for SHOOTER'S Channel swim from last hash). Once again, we are parched as the distance between beer stops is far too long for SUCK-U-LATOR's standards (he says every 50 yards). We see a HOOTERS and almost break off trail to go get a cold one- some of us had money - but we stunk too bad - and the FRBs were returning from yet another countback. So we are ranging after we cross the last road, hounds all scouting through freshly cut grass, desperately searching for some kind of mark and STUMBELINA finds a mark across the grass lot in a parking lot and we are ON-ON again. As soon as we clear the end of a building, we see our final beer stop and STUMBELINA, CUMSICLE, BIKE BITCH and several other thirsty hounds engage in competitive running only to be corrected and we immediately go into a fast-walking , ass-wiggling, arm-pumping finish in order to get to our cheesy poufs and beer.
The party girl hares have also sprung for M&M cookies in addition to our normal chips and cheesy pouf fare- it was very festive and colorful indeed. YANKSIT AND SUCK-U-LATOR eat cheesy poufs out of other hounds ears just to hear the sound it makes "clear through to the other ear". Where's the cleanup-crew you say? Other hounds are quick to lap up any remaining cheesy pouf dust on fingers and inner ears. SHORT STRAW also discovers that cheesy poufs are flammable and the pyro is burning a stinky one until it no longer smells as good as burnt marshmallows and he throws it to the ground. We are all entertained, but we have a circle to run with our dearly missed religious advisor, YANKSIT, who's been away for 6 weeks. We've finally done it. We lost JUST MOM and JUST JEAN and DR ANUS had to sprint back on trail to retrieve them. Gee ANUS, next time, can you get them a whistle or a cell phone with GPS or something? Everyone finally makes it back and we set up our circle in the back of a building overlooking a tree-lined retention pond. The natural ambiance was very fitting for our perfect summer day.
Our hares, SALAD SHOOTER AND DICK SNIFFA take the ice chairs first while the hounds critique the trail. There were many "too long between beer stops" comments. Our FRB, SIR FLATULOT goes next with DR ANUS taking it for Just Mom, the DFL. JUST MOM takes some film footage of the ice chair while her son has his pants down like any good mom would. FATTY also collects the very nice, MADE IN JAPAN, bronze, first-ever, FRB running-man trophy. GILLIGAN and YANKSIT take the ice chairs next, for too long between hashing. Why GILLIGAN, what a HUGE, MONSTROUS and SCARY ..................................... drinking vessel you have. DR ANUS poured water over the ice for an extra sloppy welcome back. CUMSICLE and her virgin JUST SLOAN take the ice next and those friendly 200 and 300 pound hounds help them both feel loved by sitting on their laps, always making sure to stack hounds boy, girl, boy, girl so as to eliminate any reactions from the homophobic frozen asses. JUST SLOAN gets to have a double DOWN DOWN while CUMSICLE is taking a breather trying to get through her first one. Several hounds take part in shenanigans, including UNCLE PERVEY who decides it's also appropriate to sit backwards on CUMSICLE's lap with his legs through the arms of the chair and bounce up and down.
I INTERRUPT THIS HASH TRASH FOR A SERIOUS ANNOUNCEMENT: Remember, at this point, we all have to pee and bouncing should not be part of shenanigans.
HAPPY MEAL also assists those on ice by sitting in their laps, while once again escaping the frost-bitten butt (how does she do that?). There were many accusations. FIRE takes the ice for using her cell phone in the circle. DICK SNIFFA was awarded the HUYA for some unspeakable crime (which means I can't remember). CUMSICLE goes down again (was that an implication of HEAD?) as she is the new ON-SEC. It starts to go fuzzy here after that second DOWN DOWN. We wrap up the circle and take a short trip back to the parking lot where several hounds were engaged in public nakedness, stripping out of their WET clothes in the Circuit City parking lot to get ready for the ON-AFTER at Wacky Wings and continued later at the Purple Porpoise. Thank God for large trucks as the open doors make a nice blind when you are getting naked in front of one of the busiest roads in Brevard county. I hear tell there was nipple tasting and feel tests for real VS purchased boobs (purchased boobs are firmer on top if anyone cares to know the results), body piercing reviews, dancing, the usual co-ed restroom visits and much spanking (1. dominatrix hard, 2. wet, post-frozen ass spanking and 3. my favorite, soft swirl spanking). It's always a good day for hashing, but today was an especially GOOD DAY for HASHING.
Reminder to FuCkleberry for the next hash: there are children at Kentucky Fried Chicken and you should go around your truck before you strip and moon the little ones.
Now raise your right hands and repeat after me: ( I just love this plagiarized item and I think it should become our pledge of allegiance prior to every hash-but don't ask me to memorize it): Release: I might (OK, WILL) be drinking and doing stupid, foolish things. I can hurt myself if I want to, and if I do, it's MY OWN DAMN FAULT!
May the Hash go in peace...........
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#86 - Bike Week 03
February 28th - March 2nd, 2003
Hounds: Too many to count!
Friday: Hashers donned their finest 70s garb for the welcome party at the Mayan Inn. There was plenty of tie-dye, polyester, platform shoes, leisure suits, Hog Balls in his sexy denim jumpsuit (good God, I'm glad the 70s are over!). Momma, Meet Her Beaver & Dollar In It looked particularly H-O-T! Me-ow! There was no "official" pub crawl Friday night, so some people went off and did their own thing, while others joined ?renegade? pay-as-you-go pub crawls. The combination of polyester clad hashers and leather wearing bikers was quite amusing. Karaoke at the bar formerly known as Robby's entertained us for awhile, but then we decided it was time to go back to the hotel and drink free beer. The techno room was rocking and Ray, the security dude was partying with us until his boss yelled at him. (This is where I lose my memory so on to Saturday...) Has anybody seen my liver?
Saturday: The day started off with the traditional room crawl. This thing gets bigger and better every year! Great stuff, but those Long Island Iced Teas were EVIL! Circle Blow was the official room crawl cheerleader. She was actually wearing a cheerleader outfit (and looked adorable, by the way) and was very enthusiastically cheering us on as we drank. "We've got blue stuff, yes we do, we've got blue stuff, how `bout you" DBH3 started a new tradition this year by having 2 trails for Saturday's hash. The Eagle trail started around 11:30 and promised the r*nners a good workout so they could sweat out all of the alcohol they drank on the room crawl. They went over the bridge to a little watering hole called Crook?s Den, then back to the hotel to meet up with the smart hashers for the Turkey trail. Gilligan was presented with a birthday cake in honor of his 50th, and was promptly covered with icing (Or was it whipped cream? Unfortunately, I didn't see it happen). The Jacksonville guys were all decked out in matching kilts and hot pink "Jacksonville is Gay" shirts. A reporter and photographer from the Orlando Sentinel joined us there. After a few brief instructions and a toast to KGB, Zippy & I Get Named Next Week, we were on-on down the beach to the first stop at Bernkastle?s. Next on the agenda was the traditional jog down Main Street, which was considerably shorter this year (good for the fat boys!). Stopped at Wise Guy?s, one of our newest hash bars- We LOVE that place! From there we moved on to Robby?s, then ended up at J?s. Thanks to Thor for another kick-ass pub crawl! Later that evening, hashers headed out to join the action on Main Street.
Sunday: Back to Bernkastle's. The crowd was smaller than usual, probably because of the rain, so No Blow was actually able to conduct a somewhat controlled "circle". I use that term loosely because hashers were standing in any dry spot they could find. It looked more like a big "E" than a circle. He did a great job remembering all the important down-downs. We drank and ate and said our goodbyes until next time. Big thanks to everyone who worked so hard to make Bike Week a success! You guys rock!
See ya when I see ya,
May the Hash go in peace...........
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#87 - St Patricks's Day Parade & Pube Crawl
March 15th, 2003
Hares: Just Puke & Dr. Anus
Hounds: Suckulator, Yanksit, Fire, In My mouth, Stumbelina, Edgar Allen Ho, Happy Meal, Cumsicle, Bike Bitch, Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Dr. Without Sox, IFH, Dick Sniffah, FuCkleberry, Gamey Gonads, Salad Shooter, Short Straw, Dolla In It, Delta Dildo, Uncle Pervey, Cockpit, Just Roger, and Watch em Wiggle, Just Tonya, Just Margaret.
Visitors: Gator Hater, Way Beyond Gay, Woody, No Blow, Putacockinit, Down and Dirty, and Cumswithstick
Virgins: Just Chad, Just Matt, Just Mike, Just Bead Guy, Just Karen (with her neon green hair) Just Schott, Just Francis, Just Larry, and Just Dana
Blarney, it was a kilt-wearing, free-dicking, 2-keg, yucca drinking, super-sized jello shot eating, chunk-blowing St Patrick's Day hash in downtown Melbourne Florida.
We started our hot hashing day off in two different locations. Some of the hounds were performing a pre-lube at the Little Gay Cottage and got trucked in later by HOPPERS, a great drunk-driving service (try them the next time you want to get hammered in Brevard county 956-3400), while the rest of us set up a pavilion at the downtown location -EATZ restaurant.
While we waited at EATZ for our Hoppers friends, a few of the hounds were still searching for more green stuff and discovered the Daily Bread thrift store just across the street. GATOR HATER found a green beret, DOWN and DIRTY or Delta Dildo (who are these people and why weren't they wearing their beads? Beer does not help me remember - I need the visual) found a green evening gown for $5 and a rabbit visor. FIRE showed us her hind quarters under her green lingerie and pointed out she needed more tanning. Her rubber elf shoes were the perfect accent to her outfit. CIRCLE was sporting St Patrick's theme Sponge Bob shorts to compliment her outfit. ASS PACKET didn't know it, but the bandana that just magically matched his vest came from the groomers when CUMSICLE'S dogs had a March grooming appt. So did the clover bandana on HAPPY MEAL'S arm. DR ANUS cleverly died a cream colored suit green, while PUKE chose to simply rip the sleeves off of his suit jacket and wear a green St Patty's day flower in his lapel. Shooter made us great St Patty's tags and a bonus Daytona tag too. GAMEY GONADS prepared a dress from tapestry green curtains.
We patiently waited for our #32 spot in the parade (we'd rather be 69, but the parade marshall wasn't going for it). He said we added a nice flavor to last year's parade and he was glad to have us back.
Once we got in the street with our half of a mother-lode of beads, our keg and our yucca, we began dodging poop behind the Brandywine Estates horses and were in front of some old ladies who I'm sure either couldn't see us or were deaf, as they sure were expressionless for the day. The parade was short and we spent our wad of beads and candy and hovered around our float, driven by DICK SNIFFA, our hash Goddess, wearing a green evening gown and gold mesh shawl. We had an addition to our float from the Treasure Coast Hashers which included a large 5x5 canvas with the slogan "GOT BEER?" on it, courtesy of GATOR HATER. I believe we were calling that Yucca drink made in Dr ANUS' yard, spout shots, as we were drinking them from a nozzled container from Puke's and ANUS' shoulders. DR WITHOUT SOX was rationing the beer from the back of the truck, telling CUMSICLE she had been back too many times -- I had a tiny Jabber Jaw cup -- so it was OK. This was also our first hash to hand out our new yellow business cards. We ended the parade by the railroad tracks while the hounds snuck off into the shiggy and the nearby Texaco to lift their legs. Others entertained themselves by flashing for the remaining beads. Just Bead-Guy wouldn't give up his shark beads for anything and we requested many others before he finally gave up his lighted-parrot beads. This guy is really uptight. I can't think of another male hound who wouldn't have gladly relinquished anything he was wearing for a flash of tits.
We had a chalk-talk and went on-on to the Melbourne Convention Center park. IN MY MOUTH took a break on the curb due to a few too many pots o' gold at the end of the rainbow. HAPPY MEAL supervised GATOR HATER'S leg lift behind the dumpster.
Somehow we always manage to fit a contest into our trail and this time it was flacid dick size. The contestants were SUCKULATOR, ASS PACKET AND GATOR HATER. ASS PACKET made the final vote and was quoted as saying, "Well, GATOR just shows well, you know I can't perform in public." Cumsicle helped judge, so know you understand why she was oblivious to everything else that went on at the park. As a consolation prize, all 3 contestants allowed some freshly-shaved, sweaty-ball handling to see if there might be a possible recount ---NOT!!!
Then began the day's underwear/G-string collection. First out of the shoot was BIKE BITCH. He aired his privates and gave up his french, green, lame thong to HAPPY MEAL. She really is rather a lazy underwear collector as she only went after those men who were wearing kilts or dresses. What's the challenge in that? Soon after, she also had SUCKULATOR'S, FUCKLEBERRY'S, and JUST CHAD'S. Poor virgin. He opted to wear a spare dress of CUMSICLE'S and it was very short. He may be a real hasher though. I couldn't figure out how so many people had a breeze blowing through their cracks when I only saw HAPPY MEAL with one pair of unmentionables at a time. I understand that she was storing them in the cooler, so who knows what might have been in those jello shots.
The trail led to the Eau Gallie Causeway to our first beer near (The hare made it there before the beer did--Oh the jello-eggs of forgetfulness). After playing with the whipped cream and the jello shots, we continued across the causeway and had to move a guy we found passed out in a pile of ants. We brushed him off and moved him about 30 feet and placed him under another tree with no ants. No he was not a hasher, however, he did try to bum a ride off of Puke earlier and Puke told him to go sleep in his truck. We thought he was dead. You never know what you are going to find on trail.
ANUS AND FUCKLEBERRY must be Labrador Retriever hounds as they took to that salty river water and went for a swim. Does alchohol float?
On-on to On-Tap where we surely confused the only non-hashing couple sitting in the middle of our group out on the deck. I missed this whole party in order to walk one of the Virgins back to my car for his clothes and send him home in a Hoppers van. Thank God for that service.
Besides hanging out with Benjamin Franklin, AKA BIKE BITCH, with his kilt, knee socks and wire-rim glasses, I don't remember a thing from the circle.
The ON-AFTER commenced at the Little Gay Cottage with the usual shedding of clothes to worship the orgasmitron. YANKSIT exposed his Patriot Missile yet left his t-shirt on. (Hey - I don't know, I wasn't there, it's what I was told) All the tired little leprechauns were in bed by 1030. The wee hashers and harriettes were just a touch blasted after a solid 10 and a half hours of professional drinking. Yet another successful hash!
Favorite lines of the day:
"That's my cover. Wanna blow my cover"...(GATOR HATER referring to his plastic bowler hat he was wearing on the front of his shorts.
"We should screw sometime"... Suckulator
No Blow - what???? you mean he does blow ---chunks that is Just Chad
A St Patty's Day to remember!! (For those that can at least!)
May the Hash go in peace...........
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#88 - Siggy’s Bar and Grill
March 29th, 2003
March 29th, 2003, wasn’t an ordinary day. No, it was a hashing day! BVD, that is…hash house harriers. Though the turn-out was small, the party was huge! Here’s a recap of the day…
We met at Siggy’s Bar and Grill in Palm Bay. BVDH3 has been here before. The bartender remembered us from last year, and in this case, it was a positive experience for him. We must have been somewhat well-mannered that day, or the bartender is quite tolerant.
The hounds that ventured out on this gorgeous Florida spring day were quite content to sit around for an hour or so before the hare was on-out. Golden Shower and Salt Lick Titty rumbled up on their Harley and enjoyed the on-before with the rest of the hounds. Afterall, the beer was cold and cheap, and the company was great. What else could we want? Oh yeah, a trail. Our hare, Edgar Allan Ho finally was on-out after a short verbal chalk talk in the bar. Then the hounds, Dr. Anus, Yanksit, Just Puke, In My Mouth, Bike Bitch, Way Beyond Gay (visitor from Daytona), FuCkleberry, Dick Sniffah, and me (Fireindahole), were on-out.
If I had to describe the trail in two words, I would say it was long and hard. You want more? Okay, it was approximately 6 miles of pavement…long and hard. Butt, it was a good trail. Ho is known for his difficult trails and he lived up to his reputation. I AM NOT complaining, however. I need all the exercise my big ass can get J Now, I have to say that we had one of the longest halfway beer stops ever. The FRBs were there when Bike Bitch and I rolled up, and they were already on at least beer #2! Their goal was to leave no beer behind. After about five miles to the halfway stop, IMM and Sniffah decided to head back to the bar for some good eats. Way Beyond Gay, who was accompanying our two fine harriettes bid them a fond (get your ass back here) farewell. Eventually we were on-out to the end. Ho promised it would only be about one more mile and he was right. Ho…you do know that halfway beer stop means HALFWAY don’t you???? Just wanted to point out the obvious to future hares.
We ended in an awesome spot in the woods overlooking a water retention pond and BCC. The “ice chair of death” was all ready to go and everyone pulled up an ice chest to form a circle around it. Since there were only eight of us at the end, everyone got their turn in the chair. I’ve got to tell you--this was one of the coldest chairs I’ve ever sat in!! It beats the block of ice 10 times over. There’s nothing like sitting in cold ice water that reaches all cracks and crevices and you know what I mean. After about 4 or 5 minutes, though, all is numb and the world is normal. We had some good story time while taking turns in the chair. It started to get dark and we were on-back to Siggy’s where everyone decided to go their own way.
On-on to the next hash….TOGA, TOGA, TOGA…..more details to cum!
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#89 – Fat Boy Toga Hash
April 12th, 2003
Hares: Suckulator, Fez (virgin hare) and Ass Packet
Hounds and Harriettes: Bike Bitch, Dr. Anus, FuCkleberry, Happy Meal, Cumsicle, Circle Blow, In My Mouth, Salad Shooter, Yanksit, Fire, Baby Huey, Uncle Pervy, Just Chad, Just Frances, Dick Sniffa, S-Tumbelina, Short Straw, Crotchduster and Cockpit
Visitors: Waay Beyond Gay, No Blow (to be referred to as Blow by BVDHHH hashers from here to eternity after the St Patricks Day Hash, not to be confused with Circle Blow), Puta CockinIt, Wish you were Queer, Fairly Small, Wet Dream, Richard Pierce, Just Wendy, Tongue In Groove, Lazer Lips, Momma Get Off Me You're Crushing My Cigarettes.
Virgins: Just Rick, Just Tim, (Just Wayne, and Just Mitch (the band guys))
It takes a lot of practice to be professional drinkers and practice we did on our toga hash. Our Hares hosted an exceptional event on a gorgeous spring day in Cocoa Beach, Florida.
Even with our elaborate toga instructions, compliments of STUMBELINA, we determined that a sheet or fabric, safety pins, a pair of scissors, sandals, a yard of rope and some greenery is all you really need to make a fashion statement.
We drank 32 Pitchers of beer, 6 cases of beer, 24 Smirnoff Ices, and spent $500 in all to support this special event hash. The Cops came 4 times-which was a record for the BVDHHH hashes. We are so good at getting people off, however, that's still only half of CUMSICLE's record, so there is much work to be done in the Brevard kingdom.
Here is a good sampling of the great togas that were worn:
Naked-Under Togas (our favorites), Goddess Style togas with flowing chiffon trim in many colors. Commando style togas with jungle and arctic camouflage prints, Gold-Greek Key Stenciled togas, Tailored, sewn and trimmed authentic-looking togas (courtesy of SNIFFA), White, red, and Striped sheet togas (200 thread-count but very soft), plaid togas, costume in a bag togas, Green swirl togas, floral togas, Stars and Stripes togas, Diaper Man togas, Gold trimmed togas (love the spray-painted gold sandals with the gold ribbons attached), Long gown togas, Non-togas (you already know how much fun you missed and I'm sure it will never happen again)
CUMSICLE was the official toga maker for those last minute folks who showed up with toga parts. With a few sticks of the pin and chops with the scissors, she worked FAIRLY SMALL, S-TUMBELINA and DR ANUS into toga fashion plates. They added their own accessories and did their own prep work.
CIRCLE BLOW also wrapped and pinned togas for ASS PACKET, FUCKLEBERRY, and JUST CHAD. Don't worry guys, the more you hash, the more you get the hang of the dress thing.
Our Hash Cash, BIKE BITCH set up his card table to sell On-On Stickers ($1), BVDHHH Patches ($3), On-On patch feet($2) and of course the dirt cheap, puke green BVDHHH T-shirts ($10).
Before we even started this hash, we had our first cop visit as the Dollar General employees had reported that people were partying and getting naked in their parking lot. Our Chalk talk was given by SUCKULATOR for our virgins, athough he left something out. We had a strange new trail mark that wasn't explained to us prior to trail. It looked much like a stick-man hasher sitting on wheels and was painted in a very large blue painted font, with blue lines on either side. Not sure what it means yet, but it was outside most every business and we think it means we can pee there as it may be a rest stop sign.
We declared Roman war on anti-terrorism in Cocoa Beach today and in light of current world situations I'll continue the news bursts throughout the trash.
Our Hash Flash, FIREINDAHOLE took our group grope shot and we were on-on. What a trooper she is. She wasn't feeling well, but didn't want to miss the toga hash, but she hung with the Roman Gods and Goddesses until the wine skins dried up.
I said I would bring the mini-recorder to assist with the trash, but since I didn't drive, I forgot it in my car and had to improvise. First, I tore out my underwear tag - which leaves very little room for trash, so I had to find more paper. PUTA offered her gum wrapper, which was about 3 times the size of the tag, but still needed more room for all the shenanigans, so ANUS finally headed for the restroom to retrieve a hash scroll parchment (a 2 foot section of paper towel), which was carefully stored in CUMSICLE'S bra in between scribing.
Where did we go and what did we do there?
Cottage Pub - We headed north on A1A and true to FAT BOY PUB CRAWL RULES, SUCKULATOR had us in another pub within minutes. The Cottage Pub had quite a few folks in it and we simply told them we were their city officials having a party using their tax money. This pub happened to be SUCKYS trail highlight.
Rum Runner's- We continued up A1A waving to passing vehicles full of our constituents, many of whom were honking and yelling their affirmations to us. We stopped for a photo op at the waterfall in the middle of the road just before Rum Runners. During the course of our trail, it was observed that CUMSICLE had a hare on her ass. (Literally, she had a rabbit sewn to the butt of her toga, which she freely flashed throughout the course of the trail). HAPPY MEAL checked under RICHARD PIERCE'S toga which drew a response from an elderly gentleman in the bar - "Good Move". RICHARD PIERCE showed us his ZERO- gauge dick piercing. OH MY GOD!!!! was heard many a time, especially when he reached up the leg of his shorts to pull it down and out while waiting for his ride to the slumber party. If you've seen the hooks we use to clip our drinking vessels to our fanny pack belts, you'd be right on with the thickness of that cock ring. What a Gladiator!!
I noticed that HAPPY MEAL did some research on the Roman handball game (Expulsim Ludere), playing with just two balls at a time. It probably wasn't traditional Roman handball for the following reason though - and I quote "...They...had a kind of hard glove for a version of this game. The larger, heavier, hand-made leather balls would not be likely to survive the punishment of a racketball style game..." She wasn't wearing gloves and judging from DR ANUS _expression and position (head to the right and coughing), I certainly don't think it was punishment. She may, however, be a doctor as her handball game looked strangely like a hernia exam. CUMSICLE is not a doctor, however she has a certain bedside manner and practiced some Geriatric kissing at Rum Runners. An elderly gentleman with his oxygen tank got a whiff of her coconut oil as she blew in the bar. A hound decided some charity work was in order and took her to meet him, when she promptly thanked him for the "you smell good" compliment and planted one on him.
Pig N Whistle- YANKSIT and "LONG DONG" BIKE BITCH practiced the Roman Ruler wave (with their hands and their dicks) atop the concrete ledge on the back patio. Their constituents were adoring and offered head in lieu of paying taxes, and it was much appreciated. There were many dickus Penisus photo shots. PUTACOCKINIT broke out her lipstick and commenced to playing a kissing game, leaving her mark on every hound and harriette in the area. She's a very territorial harriette. She put a special mark on DR ANUS and BIKE BITCH by forcing them to actually wear some lipstick. She wanted everyone to know that if she missed anyone, it was only because she was drunk, and was not intended as a slight.
City Park - There were no animals allowed in the park, but apparently, we were making new rules while assuming our temporary city council positions as the hounds quickly spread out and took over the area. COCKPIT and BIKE BITCH rode the shit out of the Hobby horses. Will someone please sex these people up so we don't have to watch their public masterbation? Never mind, I forgot we like to watch. The remainder of he hash, BIKE BITCH carried a paper towel holder in his toga for some strange reason. Wait, I think he was just happy to see that horse and was having afterglow. HAPPY MEAL, FAIRLY SMALL, DR ANUS, JUST WENDY and WET DREAM ran for the swings.HAPPY MEAL Lesson learned - chain swings leave bruises on your thighs when you are on top. Apple Pie Shots were administered orally by the 3 hares using liquor pour spouts and pressurized cans - vodka, Apple Schnapps, then whipped cream. No cups necessary - keep this money saving tip in mind for when you hare a trail. No sooner had we resumed trail, the nice police officers visited us again, blocking our trail with a police car. We all dumped our beers and continued sucking the whipped cream cans for nitrous oxide (it's legal right???). It always helps to compliment the nice officers. HAPPY MEAL passed by the parked vehicle that was blocking our trail and says "Very Nice!!!" Of course he had to let us go then. Is it wrong to pass him our empty whipped
cream can? We really shouldn't litter, so what else could we do?
Cocoa Beach Beach - DOLLA IN IT joined us on our way to the Jello Shot checkpoint - she was riding her motorcycle and found us on trail. WAAY BEYOND GAY tried to lead us off trail swearing we were going the wrong direction. Apparently the nice police officers were hungry or were trying to kick their donut habits (don't shoot me, I have nothing but respect for authoritaay), as they showed up at the Jello shot checkpoint too, but we are not good with sharing. Some of us did not get to enjoy the shots as we were behind on trail being good citizens reporting a window breaking we witnessed at a Realty office.
News burst - If you spot terrorism, blow your anti-terrorism whistle. If you are Vin Diesel, yell really loud.
FUCKLEBERRY bloodied his toga from the cuts on his forehead and chin from jumping the ramp on the beach. Apparently his drinking vessel shattered on impact with his hard head. He was left with nothing but a handle. MOM (AKA DICK SNIFFA) performed first aid.
Holiday Inn Suite - If your building collapses, give yourself a blowjob while waiting to be rescued.
You only had to show a naked body part for entry into the party suite. Simply press the naked part against the glass and you could cum in. The Reggae music was playing, there was a smorgasbord of sub sandwiches, chips, cheesy poufs and of course more beer laid out for us. The police made their final visit here, as they tracked us down via FIRE's cell phone. They took statements from several harriettes over the vandalism incident. The harriettes flirted with the cops and asked them to join us next hash. CIRCLE BLOW told them some of our hash names and they were very amused. FIRE also commented that she much preferred uniforms to the polo shirts and shorts casual look - way more sexy --and the rest of us agreed.
We had a short circle led by our religious advisor, YANKSIT (we actually ran out of beer and had to send out for more). Our ingenious hares brought in a blow-up baby pool to set the ice chairs in so we wouldn't drip on the floor. We put our hares on ice first. The hounds have been known to make fun of my sippy cup as a down down mug, but tonight they traded their giant Budweiser mugs for it to do their down downs. I guess they know their limits and will not make fun of Jabber Jaw again. Next were the Virgins and their sponsors (JUST TIM, JUST RICK AND JUST WENDY AND HAPPY MEAL). I don't know what offense CROTCH DUSTER and COCKPIT committed, however, they were wearing matching plaid togas and may have needed matching frozen asses to go with them. Update: CROTCH DUSTER, WHISH YOU WERE QUEER, and JUST WENDY, were in the circle for being pilots overseas during these troubled times in the world. COCKPIT was in the circle for putting up with CROTCH DUSTER’s shit!
SHORT STRAW helped clean up once we finished with the chairs by putting ice in everyone's togas wherever he could find a hole. ASS PACKET coined a new term - "show cock" (sounds good to me, when's the next show?). DR ANUS was wrapped up in the ice pool, which makes no sense becaue he's always cold. Is this some kind of new rubber or safe sex? Somehow I missed it but the photos show DOLLA and BLOW engaged in fully clothed sex in the baby pool - BLOW on top. Many a lap dance was given on the couch by the HARRIETTES. I had never seen one with the ass in the lap and the legs wrapped around the ears before. The scene much resembled Animal House when the entire club was dancing to Shout with all the legs in the air, but we used the couches instead of the floor.
FUCKLEBERRY or ASS PACKET rendered our single restroom unusable for roughly 30 minutes due to fumigation. If you are trapped under falling debris, conserve oxygen by not farting. Someone will have to explain Bat Thumb to me as YANKSIT was completely amused trying to explain the movie to me. Is this a porn thing? I have no idea. SUCKY stuck his plastic sword up many an ass. DR ANUS lost his shorts AGAIN, this time to CIRCLE BLOW. Damn those men in dresses are simply irresistable. BLOW and COCKPIT were engaged in breast exams - never let it be said that hashers are not compassionate or sensitive to the cause. We had all kinds of dancing:
Retard dancing by YANKSIT and BIKE BITCH (please do not write your Congressman over the terminology, I am not discriminatory, I simply don't know how else to describe it).
Slam dancing by YANKSIT and SHOOTER.
SUCKULATOR gave dance lessons.
And then there were the resident construction workers who were cat calling to the Holiday Inn guests from the Balcony--that would be FOREMAN FUCKLEBERRY, STEELWORKER JUST CHAD, BEAM WALKER FEZ and others.
Diaper man (AKA UNCLE PERVY) - spanks way too hard according to STUMBELINA and CUMSICLE. Can you tone it down a bit please? You don't get your favorite until we get ours. Either Glow Sticks were broken open or we have some radiactive hounds as HAPPY MEAL had glowing green cum stains running down both legs. There were cum stains all over FEZ', SUCKLULATOR and FUCKLEBERRY'S toga's. Thank goodness we didn't have any crime scene detectives with black lighting or we would have been collected as evidence.
Lesson Learned Number 2 - Never look under the baby pool no matter how much it's bouncing around, someone may be receiving HEAD. Who said HEAD, I'll take some of that.
Slumber Party at THE HAPPY HOUSE - (The BVDHHH has a growing list of real estate - The Little Gay Cottage, The Porn Shack and the Happy House - We buy ugly houses too). HAPPY MEAL'S daughter was named without ever attending one hash (HAPPY SNACKS) (she is not yet of age and this paragraph has to remain PG for that reason. SUCKULATOR came up with that name spontaneously during the pub crawl. He was subsequently kicked, and beaten by HAPPY MEAL and CIRCLE BLOW for crossing the line on the subject of under-age children. ASS PACKET almost pissed himself over this little joke when he remembered it at the slumber party while viewing photos of HAPPY SNACKS. JUST RICK got his toenails painted red, but was happy with the shade, so didn't protest, even upon waking. The dog was exhausted from chasing the laser light around the house, but we stuck with the house rules--no inappropriate behavior with the dog.
Inner Room moonlight trip - for some HAPPY HOUSE guests (they snuck out and just had to go to the titty bar) Favorite quote of the day from our virgin JUST RICK: " I had a lot of fun, I just need to learn to pace myself better"
Final Lesson learned courtesy of ASS PACKET: Don't put your wallet in your toga - it's not secure.
Our Roman hares treated us royally on this day and we are eternally greatful. Our visitors were highly entertaining and we welcum them back anytime.
May the Hash Get A Piece.
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#90 - Aloha Eatery
April 26th, 2003
Hares: Yanksit and Fuckleberry
Hounds and Harriettes: Bike Bitch, Suckulator, Dick Sniffah, Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Salad Shooter, Sir Flatulot, In My Mouth, Dr. Anus, Just Puke, Flash, Cumsicle, Waaay Beyond Gay, Happy Meal, Edgar Allen Ho, Fireindahole, Just Patti, Short Straw, Puta Cockinit, Up Chuck Fuck, Down & Dirty, Just Linda, Stumbelina, Gilligan, and Salt Lick Titty.
Welcome to your first recorded and transcribed hash trash for BVDHHH run #90. Your very own ON-Sec loves to use technology at every opportunity so she had a mini-recorder on trail. As unruly as this pack of hounds is, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hear anything, but it was surprisingly clear and I got to relive the event almost in it’s entirety. We sure were destructive today. Read on to find out what I'm referring to.
We had a false start at the credit union on south Wickham and moved over to Aloha Eatery due to the massive no-trespassing signs. We were expecting wet, buggy shaggy due to the storm the night before, but we all managed to make it to the circle with clean shoes. . Short Straw broke out the Cutter spray and did several people before we got started (sprayed them with bug spray that is). We had sand, canals, real shiggy and shiglet, gator corpses, (bones actually) – which ASS PAQCKET tried to claim as his ex-wife’s remains.
I tried to interview our Hare, FuCkleberry, but he gave the politician answer – “I cannot comment on the trail until it’s over.” ASS PACKET wanted desperately to bring his new paddle on trail, but he was having trouble controlling himself and CIRCLE made him put it away. That would account for the constant tapping at the beginning of the tape.
SIR FATTY entertained us with his polish version of the 7 days of hashing song. Basically, just add ski to the end of each phrase and there you have it. He also demonstrated his version of 69 with Shooter in a handstand and him standing. SHORT STRAW commented, no wonder they have no children. Not to be outdone, DR ANUS and STUMBELINA demonstrated Congress of the Cow, with STUMBLES in a wheelbarrow position and ANUS pushing the load.
ANOTHER FAVORITE PHRASE – SHORT STRAW mentioned that DR ANUS looked like the poster child for Auschwitz referring to his thin frame. Very visual and global usability. We love you ANUS, and it was not intended in an insulting way.
We gathered for a beer stop to tell stories and I left the recorder running. JUST LINDA told us some useful news about using Porcelana cream to lighten dark nipples. PACKET told us his intentions to change jobs and take up his own business as a vagina shaver. SICLE quickly asked him if he wouldn’t reconsider and put the sand on the models, but he said he’d rather brush the sand off. We also discovered a camel toe violation on trail with IMM, but I believe it went unpunished. JUST PUKE found himself alone with 8 harriettes as BIKE BITCH ANUS AND PACKET took off on-on. He liked the ratio and our conversation soon switched to prison stories.
HERE’S SOME DUI AND JAIL DETERRENCE FOR YOU
3 of our formerly incarcerated shared that you have to endure peeing in front of the cops, being forced to listen to blaring BAD BOYS all night long, no blankets, nothing soft, and the dangers of using the “brother’s phone”. Who would have guessed that the pay phone was proprietary?
We learned some new terminology – at least some of us did – felching (licking gism from the butt), tossing salad, etc. Nasty hounds we are.
Stumbles also made the caveat that if there were any who didn’t yet have a DUI it was only a matter of time. Let’s do everything we can to keep that from happening. Otherwise we’ll have to teleconference our future hashes. FIRE gave us HO’S secret for escaping a DUI. Have all of your ID, REGISTRATION, and license stuff ready before you leave the hash. When the nice officer stops you, be polite and cooperative. Also, a little tip from CUMSICLE, when he puts the laser light in front of you and asked you to follow it without turning your head, concentrate real hard and try to make your eye movements as smooth as possible. Apparently jerky eye movements are an indication of intoxication and turning your head is a sure sign. Tips from PUKE – do everything in your power not to get picked up commando in a red dress. I also heard a certain hasher was nicknamed BUNKY in jail.
It didn’t take us too long to get in our circle and we immediately put our hares and also recent birthday boys on ice- YANKSIT AND FUCKLEBERRY. While on ice we took some time to announce Bike Week 2004 and answer all pertinent questions – to which we had no answers at this early date. We also gave several directions to Daytona, to include driving to Georgia and coming back south.
Fatty led us in prayer – Our lager, which art in barrels, hallowed be thy drink, thy will be drunk, I will be drunk, at home as I am in the tavern. Give us this day our foamy head (who said head), and forgive us our spillages, and lead us not into incarceration but deliver us from our hangovers, for thine is the bitter and the lager and the ale, forever and ever Barmen.
We also had a moment of silence for our service men and women overseas. All birthday boys and girls were forced to wear hats on the body part of their choice. And we sang them a birthday down down. We did a lot of circle groups today in order to get as many folks drunk as possible in the shortest amount of time.
We took care of a little Lost and Found from previous hashes – HO’s manties – or HAPPY PANTS, as we like to refer to underwear with wiggle eyes, a painted mouth and strategically placed hole for a nose. The collectors, now referred to as one person “HAPPY CUM” (that would be HAPPY MEAL and CUMSICLE) were forced to do a down down. ( I swear I was an innocent bystander!!) We didn’t find the owner of the gray jock strap – we believe it belongs to THE DUKE. All of our visitors were placed in the circle – UPCHUCK FUCK, WAAY BEYOND, DONW AND DIRTY, PUTACOCKINIT, FLASH, AND GILLIGAN. DOWN N DIRTY was rated the best ass on ice for the day and the hounds were grateful not to have to see ASS PACKET display his hairy, spotted beast this day. D AND D also sang us a song and I can’t remember the tune – but it went something like this – da da da da da da da da da don’t mess my hair do…blah blah blah – that’s all I can remember, but we liked it. The recorder did not pick all of this up due to the unruly hounds.
JUST LINDA asked BIKE BITCH if she could spark one of our visiting hashers at the LITTLE GAY COTTAGE, and was flatly rejected. After all, knowing his anal retentive sterile home environment, staining his sheets with cum Is rarely allowed.
WE BROKE THE FRB TROPHY after we presented it to FATTY. I believe we need a rubber one now – perhaps a dildo with a first place ribbon – to be sanitized between runs. I guess it wouldn’t be much use to FATTY, who is often our FRB as he couldn’t feel his butt.
PUTACOCKINIT broke her martini glass.
YANKSIT was afraid to fart due to his frozen ass and explained, “he might shit himself”
WE LOST THE HUYA – we need to find it and get it back into circulation.
We escaped the rain, we didn’t get too dirty, we changed in the parking lot of the Aloha Eatery (except for those who went home to shower in order to smell good) and went on-out to Kelleys for the on-after. It was another great hashing day in Brevard County. We have to stop breaking and losing stuff. Visitors keep cumming. We love to have the bigger crowds and we are very easily entertained. We should have some new tshirts for you to buy soon.
May the hash get a peace.
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#91 - Kellys
May 10th, 2003
Hares: Bike Bitch and Fuckleberry
Hounds and Harriettes: Just Maria, Waay Beyond Gay, Suckulator, Just Puke, Dr. Anus, In My Mouth, Just Tara, Uncle Pervy, Ass Packet, Just Trooper, Cumsicle, Salt Lick Titty, Golden Shower, Yanksit, Fireindahole, Dick Sniffah, Cockpit, Edgar Allen Ho
It was a scorcher of a hashing day on the day before Mother's day in Melbourne Fl. Our very thoughtful hares brought yellow roses for all the mothers and dill weed for all the motherfuckers. JUST MARIA was making a hashing documentary of FUCKLEBERRY'S last hash. HO barely made it to the hash before the hares were away. FIRE took our group grope shot right after we asked many annoying questions about the chalk talk. There were boob and dick checks described, but I never did see any on trail. Must have been delirious because it was so damn loooonnnnnnng before we stopped for a beer. We were on-out from behind Kelley's restaurant/bar and as soon as we rounded the first building, SUCKULATOR was quick to point out that at a FAT BOY hash, we would have already been at our first beer stop. JUST PUKE got us in the hashing mood early by getting us wet at the FAT BOY mirage beer stop (with his big hose....... I mean the rubber one). We usually see the FRBs asses, but today we kept seeing their faces due to the countless countbacks. A 10 year old even chased them out of the woods screaming .."and don't you ever come back here, ya hear???"
On trail, we listened in disbelief as COCKPIT told us of her virgin hash in Key West. She showed up in a sun dress and sandals. We couldn't imagine her as a virgin ever.
We kept looking for the beer stop and it didn't cum, so COCKPIT offered to use her tits at the nearest residence to get us some beer.
We did a lot of concrete trail today and luckily there was a lot of shade. We passed a lot of yard sprinklers and CUMSICLE thought she might cool off in one of them until COCKPIT pointed out that it was probably stinky well water, so she passed. I distinctly heard " FUCKLEBERRY IS EVIL" about this time, and that both he and BIKE BITCH would surely be on ice.
When we finally trekked through about 4 miles of neighborhoods and a couple of business districts, we heard faint whistles in the distant shiggy across a busy road and a soccer field. We also saw the biggest BN we had ever seen in our lift. FIRE laid down next to the N to make an exclamation point, as she was so excited at the thought of finally having some beer - some 1 hour and 14 minutes into the hash. We saw ANUS in the distance in his Charlie Brown shirt and made our way in that direction. We hit the shiggy and immediately passed the poopy tree - the most foul smelling shiggy we've ever encountered. BIKE BITCH said it was a very rare tree and there were only a few left. UNCLE PERVEY reported that CUMSICLE had been deflowered on trail (no - not sex on trail you sick bastards, she lost her rose from her fanny pack when she ran across that busy road). As we came into the clearing, we saw that the BVD hashers not only buy ugly houses, we customize cars. Our hares had marked on-on in chalk on the open door of a junk car.
I wonder if we will ever get to see the footage that JUST MARIA shot from this hash. From what I could see in the viewfinder behind her, there was a lot of bouncing with an occasional head or ass in the shot. JUST TARA took her first pee in the woods, with plenty of offers for a blow dry from the disgusting hounds. JUST PUKE asked if his tongue would work?
While at our ONLY beer stop, we compared virgin hazing from other hashes and determined that we treat our virgins extremely well. We do everything to get them to cum back. We have no rituals for them except to allow them to drink as much beer as they can pour down their throat and we just stand back and watch them self destruct (as all virgins do). It's so highly entertaining. That's why we love our virgins so.
COCKPIT had to get final proof that the rare poopy tree did indeed exist, and that it wasn't YANKSIT'S butt. She should get a medal for this one. She sniffed his butt and thank God she didn't get her face blown off - cosmetic surgery is really painful and expensive. She also noticed that our beer stop appeared to be a hooker hangout due to the massive number of used condoms and empty deoderant dispensers in the area. Nothing but the best trail for BVD.
While I was innocently standing at the beer stop with the rest of the hounds, BIKE BITCH began to AIR HUMP. I'm not sure why. He further described it as an gyrating upward. Perhaps he was just getting warmed up. He is after all, a senior citizen and he had done everything possible to get laid today (the suck up flowers for the women I mean).
GOLDEN SHOWER had to leave us early to go to work, but not before he tried to do a down down from his urinal. He's a serious hasher, but he still spilled a whole lot of beer. I sure hope he's not an air traffic controller.
We talked about our upcoming BVD camping trip and YANKSIT was very proud of the fact that Wickham park didn't want us back. Apparently the park rangers kept cumming out to see if the hashers were naked yet. And not to give you any ideas for camping entertainment, but after FIRE the girl scout returned from her leg lift (complete with tissue, which she buried), it reminded CUMSICLE of a game that her brother told her Marine's play when they camp out. It's called SKY SHITTING. You dig a hole, climb a tree, drop your drawers and sit on a limb over the hole and shit into the hole. Who ever comes closest, wins. I won't be playing that game. You boy scouts have fun.
THIS IS FOR COCKPIT. On trail, she yelled out ...."CUMSICLE, record that number!!"
751-2109 Barship Enterprise, Party Bus Rental
UNCLE PERVEY said the next hash is at his place to celebrate his birthday. Woo hoo, another house party.
We knew we had arrived at the ON-AFTER as soon as we saw the chalk on the sidewalk, that said, "Clean up after your dog - $500 fine". We were at the Little Gay Cottage, otherwise known as the LGC. Here are some house rules for the LGC:
Don't make a mess
Recycle your garbage
Don't touch the stereo
Get as naked as you want
Have all the sex you want as long as it's with BIKE BITCH
We decided we better leave now and get our cars from Kelleys as we knew we were on our way to a serious hangover. We piled in the back of FUCKLEBERRY'S truck and drove the 2 miles back to our starting point. While at a stop sign, SUCKULATOR AND YANKSIT blew a kiss to a very uptight lady in a Cadillac. She immediately turned her head and wouldn't look at us again. She probably won't come hashing with us either.
Now we are in the circle and here are some comments from around the ring:
JUST RICK announced that he was pacing himself much better this time. He was also wearing a WANNABE hash shirt with two feet on it from an Alzheimer's run. He said he forgot our logo was just one foot.
NO NAME TROUPER said there were too many 12 year olds threatening to kick his ass. YANKSIT immediately asked DR ANUS why he was picking on our virgin.
HO said he would sign no more going away pictures for FUCKLEBERRY, so just leave already.
SUCKULATOR AND FIRE were on massive drugs today but they weren't sharing so we were pissed off. FIRE said she loved the big BN so much that she busted her hyphen on it.
UNCLE PERVEY said we ruined the economy by busting up the hookers hangout.
My tape ran out at this point, but I can still remember bits and pieces of the rest of the evening. We put lots of folks on ice - Virgins JUST TARA AND JUST TROUPER. We put visitors on ice - WAAY BEYOND GAY. We put the hares back on ice. We put HO on the outdoor shitter with a Playboy magazine. Someone will have to remind me the significance of the shitter.
We mysteriously got the HUYA back, but now I have no idea who is sporting it or what stupid shit they did to get it. FUCKLEBERRY was busy in the kitchen whipping up some grub for the hungry hounds.
And we had the ritual nakedness in the hot tub. I can only describe the scene like one of those arcade games where the little gophers pop their heads up while you wait to slam them down with a gigantic mallet. I walked up to the seemingly well mannered, but wet bunch and asked if anyone was naked in there. One by one, they stood up, exposing the gophers stating, "No, I'm not naked". And me without my mallet. Damn!
Later, for those of you who are dying to find out about BIKE BITCH and his inappropriate behavior in the hot tub, I can only recall rolling flesh and wild splashing and BIKE BITCHES frantic face mouthing "HELP ME" He went under several times and the rest of the hounds just sat and watched. The man obviously needed a life guard, but we were too fucking drunk to save him from himself. He recovered though and donned his robe (didn't bother to tie it or put on anything under it, but he put it on) and calmly set up a viewing of Bat Thumb to get our minds off the traumatic event.
What a great party! We even managed to hang for a couple more hours than the last party we had at the LGC. The house was clean by midnight. The overnighter's were all tucked in and added another fantastic hash to our history books and the floor wasn't even sticky.
May the hash get a peace.
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#92 - Uncle Pervy Birthday Hash/ Crash Dummy Hash
May 24th, 2003
The Lone Hare: Uncle Pervy (who let this happen?)
Hounds and Harriettes: Bike Bitch, Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Yanksit, Fireindahole, Big Canal, In My Mouth, Just Tara, Kittylingus, Dr. Anus, Just Puke, Just Rick, Cumsicle, FEZ, Short Straw, and Dick Sniffa.
VISITORS: Upchuck Fuck, Big Bloody Ketchup (JAX), Putacockinit
VIRGINS: Just Uncle Leo, Just Mack, Just Drew
It started out as the UNCLE PERVY birthday hash in the Space Coast Sports Complex in Port Saint John, but it quickly turned into the CRASH DUMMY HASH. We conducted our crash dummy testing just off of Canaveral Grove Blvd to the sports park on your right, I mean your other right and finished up at UNCLE PERVY‘S home. We had to caravan to UNCLE PERVY AND JUST BRID’S house because we weren’t trusting the mutant HARE (two right hands) to give us directions again. HEY, I just realized we had two mutants in our midst. JUST RICK showed us his two right nipples. CUMSICLE could hardly resist trying to pull or bite that extra one off, but JUST RICK refused. Let me just share with you some of the stupid shit we did to ourselves today and let you figure out who did it.
We had 5 folks (a total of well over 756 pounds of flesh) in the fold up lounge chair at one time, so we can now turn in our stress test results to the camping gear company. Stay tuned for further camping gear research. [ Shouldn’t we be getting paid for this?] We had swing dancing where the dipper and the dippee made cranial contact with the indoor/outdoor carpet, (fully padded with concrete I’m sure). We had a second crash test of that same carpet when one of our Harriett’s walked right through a closed screen door (she swears the door was open) bringing it and herself to the floor (we had some handy hounds repair it, so not to worry). We had a cactus thorn through our youngest virgin’s running shoe. I guess we’ll have to start wearing our steel toed boots to hash. We had bloody scratched up legs and horse fly bites. We also had a near decapitation due to hooking a tree vine while jumping down a steep 4-foot bank next to the spongy water crossing. And many of us were covered in beer either from being doused on trail or from unfinished down downs. Most folks who entered the pool at the on-after did so via the propulsion method rather than diving in themselves. The SCUBA hashers arrived as crispy critters after spending too much time in the sun that morning on their Jacques Coustou adventure in the pool of a local motel. Even HAPPY MEAL, who is scouting the northern Florida, central Alabama area for other hash groups called in at the first beer stop to tell us that she too, was doing stupid shit without us and that she was fried from digging holes on the beach in Destin. Ask her about it when she gets back in July.
This was also a family affair for UNCLE PERVY, as JUST UNCLE LEO joined us from Cheese head land in Wisconsin. Brothers JUST MACK (brother of ASS PACKET), a college tub party maniac from Michigan and JUST DREW (brother of KITTYLINGUS), a rabid Syracuse fan were also with us today. This was truly an inbred event and you’ll find our later that these folks’ family tree just keeps getting more intertwined.
We met in a clearing near the remote control aerial field and after giving UNCLE PERVY some obligatory shit for his virgin hare, we immediately set off in opposite directions after several Harriett’s molested BIKE BITCH‘s head in the group grope shot, with the eagles heading east and the turkeys heading west. I just realized that all the accidents happened in turkey land (either that or the eagles just weren’t sharing with us the stupid shit that happened on their trail.) We dove immediately into the shiggy following toilet paper and white flour plops (even after the DC hash warned us to always add color to the flour so folks won’t mistake the white powdery substance for anthrax). It wasn’t long before the eagles path joined the turkeys and we had a very early BEER NEAR stop by a pond, where we watched tiny little remote control boats race around. This was very cool as we were reminded of the FAT BOY TOGA HASH with the frequent beer stops. PLUS we hounds very rarely get entertainment from an outside source on trail. It was also at this point that we noticed JUST PUKE was no longer with us. Sex on trail perhaps? No, wait, he was alone. Sex on trail perhaps? And remember the reference to the Charlie Brown shirt on DR ANUS from our last hash? This boy seriously needs a hobby because he took his yellow shirt and meticulously taped off precision zigzag angles around the bottom of the shirt and spray painted them black. It looked incredibly professional and he was asked if he might design HASH GEAR for us.
The down side was that it took 48.32 hours for him to get the angles just right, paint the shirt and let it dry. He ain’t called DR ANUS for nothing. At that rate, many of us would remain naked while he repeated the process of applying our Surfing Hare logo to blank t-shirts. So scratch that, let’s get the cheap ones off the internet.
Whew - all that and I haven’t even pulled out my ON-SEC notes yet. This could be WAR and PEACE. I must have taken JUST RICK’s advice and paced myself. And speaking of JUST RICK, he was sporting some very delicate pink and yellow flowers behind his ear on trail. We haven’t named him yet, but we need to remain vigilant for every scrap of indecency so we don’t let him down on naming day. That would be his hash after next.
Were we dreaming or did DICK SNIFFA, our hash goddess, appear in the clearing and join us on trail from the first beer stop. No, it was really her. We confirmed it for ourselves with a nipple check as she arrived braless. Later she added ice to keep them up.
BIG BLOODY KETCHUP reminded PUTA of an anecdote from the SCUBA adventure that morning, where they all had to sign health waiver forms. One question asked if you had any blood disorders and CIRCLE began screaming, “Only every 28 days, yes every damn one of us has a blood disorder!!”
We tried to assist FIRE with her dilemma as to what hair color she should change to before heading out for her next job hunting adventure. I think we finally settled on auburn because blonds are not taken seriously. Ask her to do the ditzy blond dance she showed us when she was describing exactly how blonds are perceived. Should I be offended? Oh wait, the carpet doesn’t match the drapes, I’m not blond, so I won’t be offended. By the way, this is the first time in a month FIRE was well enough to run. Her name should have been SMOULDERINGHOLE for that period. PUTACOCKINIT forgot her “CUMS FOR BEER” sign. Damn, hate it when that happens. FEZ appeared to be wearing new shoes, however we didn’t make him drink out of them today.
The eagles and turkeys split again, this time, eagles west, turkeys north, but were soon reunited at the toilet paper demarcation point in the trees. CUMSICLE AND BIG CANAL made a human chain in an effort to keep YANKSIT from getting ahead of us on the sand trail. CUMSICLE even tried to slow him down by tossing the rest of her sippy cup beer on him, but he was not deterred. He took a short cut through the trees and found our next BEER NEAR, but this time we took turns in a NYQUIL shot chair. I think hounds don’t handle the red stuff (grenadine) very well because later, we found it on the ground and the kitchen floor after ASS PACKET and UNCLE PERVY’s body’s rejected the stuff. We have a support group for you HURLER’s ANONYMOUS people. It’s called BREVARD HASH HOUSE HARRIERS, or better known as BVDH3. We will put you through desensitizing training, give you a rash of shit and publicly humiliate you until you never hurl in public again. I’m also thinking we need to add the Pepto-Bismal-smelling, Kitty Litter stuff the janitor used to put on our puke as wee students, to our hashing safety kit, because when you puke by someone’s front door, it smells like dog shit and that’s not a very pleasant way to greet your guests.
It was a short trail today, so I really can’t explain the long trash except that we had a FUCKING 2 HOUR AND 49 MINUTE WAIT FOR ON AFTER BEER FOLLOWING OUR CIRCLE!!!!!!!!!
We were totally sober and about to range out into suburbia to find an oasis from the on-after. This is just how many a wolf pack has disbanded leaving lone hounds to wander the desert!
I just wanted to let you know that up front, because HAD WE KNOWN THAT, we wouldn’t have drained the first keg at the circle. Our religious advisor, YANKSIT, once again had to scream over the hounds ( I swear to God, we may have to open up a can of whoopass on you noisy hounds if you can’t control yourself in circle). YANKSIT gets hoarse yelling over you. He also gets powdery thighs or dingle berries for some reason ( I really don’t know what that was between his legs). I know he often shares his gas with us, but I don’t know where that powder came from. As soon as I pointed it out to FIRE, she quickly groped YANKSIT’S crotch to get it off, I mean get him off. “No wait, we are about to start the circle, there’s no time for that Batman..”
We also had a YAK box today, but we may need to be refreshed as to it’s purpose because the only yakking that was done today was no where near that box.
WHO WENT ON ICE TODAY AND FOR WHAT?
PERVY - for haring, because we missed his birthday, to pass the HUYA to JUST PUKE for leaving the trail and again later just because
DR ANUS - someone splain to me why he did 12 shots of beer from a shoe box lid and for why
VIRGINS - JUST UNCLE LEO, JUST MACK AND JUST DREW and the people that made them cum.
ASS PACKET - Why not, and again for head gear, will he ever learn?
FEZ - too long between hashes
JUST DREW AGAIN - because he was getting too cocky
JUST UNCLE LEO - because he likes frozen ass. I want to point out that he asked for the Bitch on his lap (referring to BIKE BITCH, but BIKE BITCH got really scared and he stayed on the edge of the circle trying to blackmail CUMSICLE with the two-towel hot tub story. It’s not gonna work baby, one for me, one for my hair. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)
LAP DUTY OR SQUATTER’S RIGHTS on the ICE CHAIRS OF DEATH
ASS PACKET - as always, PUTA and BIG CANAL
QUOTES FROM TODAY’S HASH
JUST RICK “It was fat enough, but I’d like to see a little more length” ( in ref erence to today’s trail)
IMM - “…the directions were extraordinary…”
BIKE BITCH “…where else can you have trail and a boat show at the same time?”
CIRCLE - “ …there were no balls on trail….”
YANKSIT “Where the fuck is the beer, over? Bring me beer!!!!!” (on-after)
CUMSICLE “Roger that” (in reply to YANKSIT)
UPCHUCK FUCK - (FOLLOWING THE HEAD SONG)…”and then she licked my asshole and then I quivered!…” And I liked it, (no wait I added that) New verses to the song…cool.
JUST UNCLE LEO - “I want the ice”
CUMSICLE - “It just doesn’t get any better than this” referring to the caravan ride with a pitcher of beer in her shotgun partner’s lap, tunes blasting, windows open following a hash..
CONGRATULATIONS TO BIG CANAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! - SHE GAVE BIRTH TO A 200+ POUND BOUNCING, BREACHED, JUST PUKE. He came out fully dressed with size 13 sneakers on. Check out the pictures once they are posted. Mom and nipple sucker are doing just fine.
JACKSONVILLE IS GAY HEY!!!! Just thought I’d throw that in since we sang it often today.
We also learned another new song from UPCHUCK FUCK with the very kissable sun burnt lips and high speed hasher hairdo and it goes like this:
Old MacDonald had a farm - e I-e I o
Stick with me here, it gets better
And on that farm he had some sheep e I-e I o
With a bah bah here and a bah bah there, here a bah, there a bah , everywhere a bah bah
Old MacDonald had a farm - e I-e I o
Old MacDonald had a farm - e I-e I o
And on that farm he had a whale
(then takes a mouthful of beer and blows it out like a spout on the person in the ice chair)
and that’s the end of the song
WAIT - we like that song
let’s repeat that verse
And on that farm he had a whale (and we all blow beer on the ice chair people)
AAAAAAAAAAAAWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. Mr. BIKE BITCH was the FRB today and he did not get recognized, nor did he get the broken FRB trophy. Now we need a new trophy for the STEALTH FRB.
The thunder heads were looming (who said head, I'll take some of that) and BIKE BITCH was getting worried that we might all get struck with lighting, plus we had to be out of the park by dark or get locked in, so we headed for the on-after in a caravan line. CUMSICLE was holding up the line waiting for JUST PUKE to get a towel out f her trunk so he could carry a pitcher of beer without spilling it in her car. They were jamming to BAD TO THE BONE and ZZ TOP and barely heard the horns honking, but when they did, they exited the car and mooned the remainder of the line and flipped them off continuously out the sun roof for the rest of the ride.
Even though we didn’t have any FUCKING BEER FOR 2 HOURS AND 49 MINUTES, UNCLE PERVY and his wife JUST BRID (I think I’m spelling that wrong, but pronounced BREED) were very gracious hosts and served up some gaseous libations, such as bean dip with chips, hot wings, cheese and a party sub. NOT TO MENTION the UPS SHIPMENT OF JELLO SHOTS. I swear to God, there must have been almost 100 of them. We finally got a second keg and the hounds settled down. BIKE BITCH immediately broke house rules and stripped naked in front of the non-hasher guests and jumped into the pool . I swear he was being a little vindictive for all the times house rules have been broken at the Little Gay Cottage. It scared all those folks into the kitchen - away from view of the pool. JUST TARA got wet again, but it’s harder to chase a BITCH around a big pool, so there is no further dirt on her. Remain vigilant hounds - a naming is coming.
We also named our virgins before they went off to their respective homelands. The following virgins will hereafter be forever known as:
CAPTAIN COCK - formerly JUST MACK - - (pilot)
CUM PACKER - formerly JUST UNCLE LEO (Cheesehead Packers fan). Now a relative of CUMSICLE - I told you the family tree gets uglier by the minute.
LITTLE PRICK - formerly JUST DREW (thorn episode)
AND ALSO - some of our hashers were named outside of our group and some of you may not have the history.
KITTYLINGUS - formerly JUST CHAD - works in a Vet’s office and loves to go down on females (beware). You remember, our St Patty’s Day virgin, who wore the free-dicking green green dress?
BIG CANAL- formerly JUST FRANCES - She is from PANAMA. SHORT STRAW named her but then couldn’t recall and started calling her GUADAL CANAL at today’s hash. That’s why we need the beads. Many a lost brain cell could cost you.
The wet hounds enjoyed themselves splashing in the pool and tearing up the buffet into the evening until UNCLE PERVY passed out on the bed, a SPENT YET satisfied BIRTHDAY HARE.
Mr. Webmeister - don’t think I haven’t noticed that you edited my previous trashes, so this time I’m going to beat you to it.
MAY THE HASH GET A PIECE
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#93 – Yankee Hash
June 7th, 2003
Hare(s): Cockpit ( I mean Dr. Anus and Just Puke)
Hounds and Harriettes: Bike Bitch, Waay Beyond Gay, Circle Blow, Ass Packet, Yanksit, Fireindahole, Suckulator, Kittylingus, Big Canal, Cumsicle, Dick Sniffah, Wrong Hole, Just Robin, Uncle Pervy, Erector Pad
VIRGINS: Just Gary
On-After drop-ins: Gilligan, Divide My Pie
This is the first time I can remember that we got wet before we even started our Storm Hash - I mean Yankee hash #93. We started just north of 528 on US 1 from the High Point office building parking lot and there we were - most of us without rubbers (we like to get wet). COCKPIT'S pre-laid trail got washed out just minutes before we started, so the evil Dr. Anus and Just Puke took off to lay a live trail. COCKPIT was wearing hash gear from her recent Costa Rica hash - a hash bib, a hash t-shirt and she was carrying a wooden down down mug. Cool Stuff. If we took a group grope shot, I missed it because I was late from getting my hair cut from the brain surgeon barber. Next time I'll just bring some scissors and you all can cut it straight across the back while I'm on ice. We were on-on into some immediate shiggy and had to look extra hard for marks today because the rain was soaking up the flour and disintegrating the toilet paper. Circle Blow came across some footprints and thought she had found a major clue as to our trail direction, but quickly realized they belonged to the person walking right in front of her. UNCLE PERVY recovered from his birthday hash to join us today. We hadn't seen or heard from him since we last saw him passed out on his bed. WAAY BEYOND was questioning our credentials as hashers because we didn't put any makeup on the boy - apparently harriettes are supposed to carry this around at all times for just these types of occasions. Oh yeah and we saw that peacock COCKPIT was telling us about, so now we know she wasn't hallucinating.
HEY - DID YOU SEE THAT DOLLA IN IT AND FIREINDAHOLE MADE THE HASH CALENDAR!! Woo hoo - our harriettes will soon be famous worldwide. Hash hounds everywhere will be drooling over February and April respectively. Congratulations you sexy bitches!
While on trail, we exchanged chatter about the upcumming JAX red dress hash. Apparently wearing dresses is one of our most favorite things and we were very excited. ASS PACKET said he was getting his red frock custom-made by DICK SNIFFA. He couldn't possibly be seen in the same red dress he wore last year! MOM has some skills as she also designed many a toga too. ASS PACKET also told us he was responsible for naming YAK SHAK II and that he was going to JAX Friday night because there was no way he could get up at the crack of noon to be in JAX by 2. We couldn't stay on the subject too long though, as we quickly ran out of marks and were wandering aimlessly in a huge sand box. We shouldn't have complained about that because the next portion of trail was full of stinging nettles. Many hounds started complaining they had been stuck and scratched and their legs were in pain and burning. ASS PACKET quickly became our nettle detector, stopping several times in front of us to warn us not to run into another of the prickly little plants. He's such a gentleman (not all the time, but today he put others before himself). We crossed over US1 and it's important to note here that we started following the railroad tracks right after that. Not at a railroad crossing, where the NO TRESPASSING signs are posted, but in the middle, through the bushes. It will be a loophole that we can get off on later cuz there is a $500 fine for this offense. It sounded like someone was chewing gravel on my recorder as we tromped through the large granite rocks under the cement railroad ties. Off in the distance, we could see our friendly officers waiting for us in the car marked "BEXAR COUNTY SHERIFF". Mr. BIKE BITCH represented us and immediately acknowledged the nice officers once he hit the street, as he knows they like attention and was trying to stroke their egos. He explained we were a running club, we didn't know that we were trespassing because we didn't cum on the tracks at an intersection, (as he turned around to point at the running club, you could see a group of us walking at a leisurely pace down the tracks balancing our beer mugs- running club my ass) So much for credibility. Remind BIKE BITCH to remove his BLOW ME badge hanger before he represents us again. The officer said we would get sucked by the train if we were too close. How can that be a bad thing? We don't understand. FIRE began yelling at us to get off the tracks and the nice officers waited to ensure we made it safely to the street. That was very sweet of them, but now the stalking bastards made the hounds nervous about our next beer near stop. We drank our beers with a paranoia like never before, checking the street often and behind trees. We admired BIG CANAL's hemp macrame'd whistle hanger while we were at the short beer check. We have some crafty little hounds in our pack. WAAY BEYOND GAY finally succumbed to the pressure and yelled ON-OUT. We crossed some knee-deep reclaimed water. WRONG HOLE, (no that doesn't mean he's a fudge packer - it was an innocent seat belt mis-match thing) a hasher that's joined us from Colorado, took a flying leap, scaled the entire 10 foot water ditch and managed to keep his shoes completely dry (at least for now). KITTYLINGUS decided to try it too and fell about 8 inches short, splashing the nasty water in his mouth. Silly KITTY, doesn't he know cats don't do water? CUMSICLE pointed out that he was the only kitty in the pack of hounds and he should be very honored that he was even allowed to hash with us.
We crossed another nettle patch and ended up on a deserted race track. We rounded the first curve at 9 mph and discovered an obstacle-- A 6 foot chain link fence. It was wet, the holes were too small to hook our feet in for traction, pine trees do not make good climbing tools, we were breaking off branches and were in danger of neutering or skewering some hounds. Once again, ASS PACKET offered his hands and his strong manly self to boost some harriettes over the fence (we all know it was only for the chance of grabbing some ass in case we should fall) but today, I'll keep my gentleman fantasy going. NICE ASS PACKET - thank you baby! BIKE BITCH said he couldn't afford to lose his gem nuggets and went to get MOM in case we injured ourselves, because at this point we were possibly 3 miles into the trail and he hadn't even turned around yet. No sooner had we scaled the fence, we had to cross another water ravine. It was only about 8 feet across, and someone tried to scare us that it was neck deep, but it was only knee deep. CUMSICLE hollered SNAKE and FIRE didn't like that joke. PERVY saw that someone dropped a tampon and FIRE said hers fell out - sorry - no really, she told us another story (without going into too much detail) about how tight her muscle is and that once she has a hold of something, there's no letting go. Careful YANKSIT, I heard hosing her down with cold water isn't very effective and you don't want to have to explain this to the vet.
After going through another mile of shiggy, vines and burrs, WE CAUGHT THE HARES - they did so much shiggy on their own countbacks trying to find trail, that they simply tuckered themselves out. When we found DR ANUS and JUST PUKE, they were dirty, breathing hard and soaking, wet. We do more sex on trail at BVDHHH hashes, I swear.
We finally got to turn around and this time, we located the portion of the chain link fence that was laid over (that we could simply walk across) instead of scaling it again. This was after we were covered in cuts and bleeding from the first crossing. DICK SNIFFAH called CUMSICLE on trail to say she was going to be at the beer check to pick us up. A shuttle service was arranged and most hounds took advantage, just to get back to their cars. The rest of them heard about a nude barber shop that they wanted to check out on the way back. The autohashers milled around the starting point waiting for the runners to get back, stripping off wet clothes, eating cheesy poufs and getting into the trunk of CUMSICLE's car to sign BIKE BITCH'S birthday picture. Once we retrieved everyone and the runners/walkers were all back, we had a very short circle because we were already wet and it started raining again. We hollered at the last group not to be the DFL, so to start running. CUMSICLE held out cheesy poufs for motivation at the finish line. While still milling, we were supervised by a 67 year old female security guard. She parked her car at the top of the hill to look down on us. No wait, there she goes with a man in a Cadillac behind her. She was just picking up her trick. BIKE BITCH brought his lightning rod (giant umbrella) to the 6 foot in diameter circle (we were feeling cozy today). We brought the hares in the circle, the virgin, the autohashers and the visitors--May the hash go in peace. I told you it was quick. As several hounds strip down, they were hollering instructions that under no circumstances should you get naked at this point -- do NOT change clothes in the parking lot.
The on-after was at Beef O Brady's on 524. The folks at my end of the table were busy working on names for our virgin, JUST GARY and JUST ROBIN(who will have five hashes on her next run). CUMSICLE, KITTYLINGUS, JUST GARY, JUST PUKE AND WRONG HOLE had their heads (WHO SAID HEAD) together and I'll record these for possible future use: Drama Queen, Dairy Queen, Milk Grenades, Milk Bitch, Milk shooter, Milk Mines, Milk Poker, Milk Camel (two humps), Cow Fucker, Goat Fucker, it degenerated into all kinds of cheeses, Air Bags, Flotation Devices, Life Jacket, Dirty Knees, (I'll leave out the mean ones- when guys get on this track, they get evil). CIRCLE BLOW AND COCKPIT CAME DOWN TO ADD SOME NAMES--Thanks for the Mammaries, Never Cums, Inflate-a-hasher ( I like this one). FIRE decided I was having too much fun with 4 guys and she wanted to join in. Then we worked on names for JUST GARY: Cums Too Soon, CUMS and GOES, All Talk No Action (mostly because he was trying to leave the on-after). Perhaps we need a bit more dirt on him. I moved to the other end of the table after we couldn't cum up with any more names to see what folks on that end were talking about and to get our GM and RA to deliver our cleanest version of Happy Birthday to BIKE BITCH, which is this cumming Tuesday. We already know he's a senior citizen, so it's all down hill from here. The kids wouldn't leave Beefs so we sang a wanker birthday song and presented BIKE BITCH with a framed hash picture collage. I left the recorder going and YANKSIT was babbling something about writing a hasher book on various ceremonies, hasher funerals, etc. ERECTOR PAD joined us and shared some bare tits and also did some private viewings of her thigh tattoo. GILLIGAN was there with his friends with the cell phone flasks. I didn't know that kind of high-tech hash gear existed.
Bleep, CENSORED, ..."fuck her in every orifice ...", NOT RECOMMENDED FOR YOUNG CHILDREN, "... we really just want her ears...".RATED R..".If I were candy, I'd be a root beer barrel, cuz you can like lick it for 6 hours,... If I were her candy, I'd be Good n Plenty....Sucky fell out of the bed doing the nasty and kept right on
going.....Bike Bitch fell out of the hot tub...NOT ITENDED FOR WEAK STOMACHS...."we hate him for taking our woman but it doesn't matter cuz he'll be dead by tomorrow anyway..."......... Sorry--Bike Bitch, Just Puke and Sucky got a hold of the recorder. Wish I could have heard everything on that part of the tape.
Famous last words "We have 6 minutes, order a pitcher." ....Suckulator The bar closed at 1130 so that's all folks.
Quotes from our GM on today's hash:
1. Beware of walking on railroad tracks, it is unlawful and you can get sucked up.
2. Beware of fences, they are dangerous to climb.
3. Rain washes prelaid and sometimes live trails away.
4. If lost in the woods for hours.. listen for traffic sounds and go towards them.
5. Stinging Nettles SUCK.
May the hash get a piece
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#94 - Applebees
June 21st, 2003
Hares: Dr. Anus & Just Puke
Hounds and Harriettes: In My Mouth, Edgar Allen Ho, Just Gary, Just Robin, Just Bobby, Just Angie, Just Robin, Just Tara, Kojak.
Another great??? day with Dr. A and Puke. And by the end of it most of us in the know wished we had been out in a swamp with lots of saw palmetto, bugs, snakes, etc. But, I am getting ahead of myself.
Our illustrious little group of mostly newbies met at Applebees at the corner of Wickham Rd. and Eau Gallie Blvd. at the more or less appointed time. Just finding the damned place in the biggest downpour since 1956 was fun, but then hardy Hashers don't let a bit of rain trouble them.
We were off across the intersection and told to head south. About four hundred yards or so we found ourselves at the first BN kind of in a little wooded area at the corner of Sarno and Wickham. Well, it wasn't exactly BN it was, daaaadaaaa, Red Headed Slut shooters (no not the Salad one). Apparently this was KGB's favorite and we were honoring him on this day.
Off again on a mad dash of about 50 yards to the first Special Credit at Wid's Place. After a pitcher or two it was ON OUT and headed east and then north thru some vacant lots a neighborhood and then down a dirt road to the second BN and, yeah, you guessed it. more Red Headed Sluts and of course the nectar of the gods, whichever you wished. We even had a mini circle here and sang somebody a song.
ON OUT again toward Eau Gallie and across into another neighborhood, oops, excuse me, turns out this was a "private" neighborhood, but I'm getting ahead of it again. Seems that PUke hadn't really checked this out and the streets were a dead end and just circled around. So, the pack circled around and on the way back we were stopped by some big, and I mean big, fuc*&% who claimed he was the police (he did flash a badge) and we had no right to be in his "Private neighborhood" and what the hell was that stuff on the ground. He was pissed and his attitude made your humble scribe a bit pissed too. Words were exchanged and he threatened arrest and called more cops on his little radio. As for the stuff on the ground we offered to kneel and lick it as it was just flour but godzilla wasn't having it. So, the cruiser arrived and my impression from these two young men was what the hell has this guy gotten us into. So, they radioed in my and someone else's ID and got nowhere with that. Big Dude says "call for a supervisor". So, we are waiting, while jail is often being threatened, the pack is hollering"go, Kojak go and I am hollering SHUT THE FU&% up or we are all going to the lock up. So, we stand around tempers cooling a bit and I says to Big Dude with high and tite mostly shaved head and a little crewcut "you look like a Marine", "Second MarDiv" says he. So, I flash him my tattoo and say I cannot believe you never heard of the Hash House Harriers. Uniform says, "do you still want the supervisor", No, says he, they can go. (this is really a very abbreviated version but I didn't want to bore you to tears).
ON OUT back to Eau Gallie and follow trail to Wickham and head north where we end up at Slacker's Grill. Once there we learn that Puke also had been waylaid (Puke got laid?) by another of Melbourne's finest. Apparently scared the crap out of him when asked for ID. (Puke is still on probation). But, all he had with him was a bag of flour. Dr. A. had joined him at this point and after some blah blah blah they were allowed to continue.
So, we enjoyed a pitcher or two while IMM bawled her ass off. I suspect she was a) scared to death she almost saw the inside of another cop HQ, or, b) so happy that (a) had not happened. Perhaps it was a combination of both.
ON OUT to the final BN which was across the road and behind the Little Saigon, Tokyo foods, etc. We went w a y back in the woods to make sure we didn't have anymore uniform problems.
Circle was called and your scribe was invited to be GM for the day. A toast to the Hash, G and KGB and things got underway. Hares on the ice chairs and I know they were thinking "why the hell didn't we do what we are famous for". GM declared there would be one song for the day. It went like this "Jacksonville is Gay Hey, Jacksonville is Gay Hey, dring it down down down...
Your's truly was FRB ( I told you this was an unusual Hash). And a variety of accusations, etc., ensued, to the cries of Jacksonville is Gay Hey. And then we Swung Low and the Hash went to get a piece.
The On After was at Kelley's.
NOTE: I really think Big Dude was an anti-terrorist type or in Intel. He made reference to something on his net about a group in Tampa putting some kind of powder on the streets. At first I thought Hashers, but he named the organization and it was nothing to do with H3. The Homeland Security thing has some of these guys really up tight. Fourth of July is coming and they are concerned. If you are going to run neighborhoods talk to the cops beforehand. The anthrax thing has not gone away. In fact, anthrax or whatever substance, may be more a concern now and in the next few weeks. So, go do shiggy, keep a low profile, and stay safe.
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#95 - 2nd Anal Patriotic Pub Crawl
July 5th, 2003
Hares: Dr. Anus & Yanksit
Hounds and Harriettes: There were a bunch of us there.
We started the day at Chili’s in Palm Pay. It gets fogy from here forward.
We had quite a crowd and some new faces. 2-4-1 beers were flowing everywhere. We had a chalk talk and began on the quest for the day. Across Palm Bay Rd, across Babcock St to Poolies we will go.
In Poolies I had meaningful meaningless conversations w/ somebody. I am not sure who or what but it was getting good (I think) when everyone was on-out to the next spot. People were out so fast that a few of us actually had to follow trail.
Next stop was a jello stop behind K-Mart. There were Jello shots there, I do remember that part.
Next was Tapps where I had a fabulous beer (I do not remember what it was) and got into several more meaningful meaningless conversations.
Beef O Bradys was the last bar on trail. By now “fogy” has turned into very “clowdy”
After Beef’s we found ourselves in a field where we tried to have a circle but we were all just too damn drunk. On-After or something like it was at JD’s
May the hash get a piece!
Ass “Webmiester” Packet
Note: This trash was written for the sake of having trash. Names were intentionally left out because I was just too damn drunk to remember exactly what anybody did or did not do.
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#96 – 80s Grub
July 19th, 2003
Hares: Dr. Anus & Just Puke
Hounds and Harriettes: Yanksit, Fire, Just Gary, Just Robyn, Just Rick, Happy Meal, Slow Poker, Snatch Wax, Skybox, Just Marlene, Cumsicle, Just Amy (Just Amy - are you a virgin or has your hash cherry been popped before?), Kittylingus and Just David, (Ass Squealer showed up to say hi, have a beer, then took off for another party).
Where:Publix on Palm Bay Road, West of I-95
Wear: Ugly 80's clothing
Special Info- will scout trail Saturday morning. Could be messy???
Just repeating the posted facts before I get started as we had some accusations in the circle and DR ANUS had no idea what an understatement he'd made when he posted the special info. I didn't have an odometer on trail, but I would guess this one was somewhere in the 6 mile range and we did lose a few hounds before the end.
We met under the trees in the PUBLIX parking lot. The clouds looked ominous on the horizon, but the sun was still shining and it wasn't raining YET. We were promptly directed to a tin full of gaudy 80's jewelry to wear, but not before we could pass DR ANUS with a top lip swollen to the size of a Ball Park sausage (you get the picture, not quite as big as a hot dog, but a little bigger than a sausage frank). The poor guy had been stung by something scouting trail and his face was now reacting violently to it. He wore his clip board as an accessory to his bow tie and tacky plaid outfit, to cover his face from the nose down. He couldn't buy his own drugs looking like that, so we sent our most "normal looking" folks into PUBLIX to get him some Benadryl. I think we could safely say ANUS was not getting laid tonight and 69 might even be pushing it. Yes, we have pictures! His profile was the best part. He explained to us it's very uncomfortable when your lip gets stretched to those dimensions. It reminded me of Homer Simpson, cuz I saw it as we were about to park as we drove by him. How could you miss it? OK, no more teasing, it's not nice to make fun of mother nature.
We were ON-ON somewhere after 4:30 as we gave the HARES a 15-minute head start. We had a chance to look through the hash album that FIRE and DICK SNIFFA spent 8 hours sorting through and building. JUST MARLENE showed up a little late, whining something about going to the wrong PUBLIX, as there is more than one in Palm Bay. OK, so both of them are west of I-95, but only one of them is west of I-95 on Palm Bay Road! We were going to do Father Abraham to warm up, but instead did some hoisting exercises as we sat on the pavement to make sure we didn't tear any arm muscles later on. We had an immediate countback behind PUBLIX only to go over a small embankment and a barbed wire fence, which KITTYLINGUS held for some of the hounds to pass. Chivalry is alive and OK!. We crossed a small water ditch and headed off into a canopy of shiggy. CUMSICLE almost stepped on a black snake that slithered in front of her shoe off into the palmettos. I was told by the HARES that we might see a cute little white tailed deer, but NOOOOOOOOO. We went around and around in the shiggy following toilet paper trail and finally came out near a canal, under some barbed wire. HAPPY MEAL started to lose her shorts until CUMSICLE started to sing I SEE LONDON, I SEE FRANCE, so she put her butt back in. We followed the grassy bank to a crossing, (which the hares were nice enough to put at a shallow point), and most of us managed to keep dry shoes. Once out in the open, we wondered how those damn FRBs got so far ahead of us in that thick shiggy. The vines were grabbing our ankles, the palmetto blades were slicing our skin. They were nowhere in sight. Somehow KEY WEST is sounding kind of good right about now (that's where Bike Bitch, Sucky, Ass Packet, Circle Blow (who was probably also celebrating her 30th birthday, which was last week) and Dick Sniffa went this weekend (you only get your name in CAPS if you show up to the BVD hash). We were back into some more shiggy ( I think this was just to give the hares time to set up our beer check). Lord knows, we went so far before we got to it, they had plenty of time to sit around in their lounge chairs. We came out of the thicket, followed the bank to a heavy metal gate with side guards. I hear SLOW POKER tried to scale it instead of going thru the unlocked gate, realized it wasn't strong enough to hold his weight, then let go. Some onlookers, quite possibly property owners, hollered at the remainder of us to go thru the gate and not try to climb it. Somewhere in there, there was some more barbed wire but I lose track of the order, now that it's a day after and those brain cells are gone. We jogged across a bridge that was further north on Minton and crossed over the four lane highway, I-95, where cars honked at us from below. We looped back into a housing area and could see a new subdivision construction area beyond that. We did get the up-close and personal view when we found the CountBack # 14. The hounds behind us waited til we found the correct plop, then we crossed a knee-deep water ditch, hopped over the low subdivision construction boundary fence and across the sandy lot, with newly paved streets to a small clump of trees and a man-made pond. We saw drunk people and we chastised them for not whistling those of us who completed the CB#14 when we did it within their sight. They said they whistled us, but my guess is, they were over there drinking beer and laughing at us. Who the hell could be drunk after all that distance?
Finally a beer stop! We compared bloody legs (JUST DAVE, who also had gnats crawling in his wound) , SLOW POKER and FIRE. We checked out those with muddy shoes (JUST GARY-who reminded us of Salad Shooter, the canal swimmer), KITTYLINGUS, AND SLOW POKER) and those with dry shoes (everyone else) and teased JUST GARY about his knee socks with red stripes. Apparently the FRBs had waited so long for us, we shortened the stop and took off after one beer. At this point, there was thunder on trail and no more sun. We left through the back end of the subdivision, across another water crossing, behind some houses on another canal bank and finally had to get our shoes wet in knee deep water to get back up to cross Minton road. We played frogger crossing the street and followed a tree-lined sand road next to some softball fields. The plops were looking suspiciously like another countback was coming and SLOW POKER was ranging trying to find the short cut. I believe we lost JUST DAVE and SKY BOX somewhere around here. We followed the sand road into an less inhabited area, through a shallow, watery, swampy place and now realized we were back on a trail we had already run. This is the only time we caught up to the FRBs. The chalk was a different color now, so we knew we were still going the right way. We kept reassuring ourselves that we weren't repeating trail as we made sure to distinguish new marks from old ones, but there we were, headed for that clump of trees, the man-made pond and the drunk people again. It really was a nice little private place and thank goodness for that, because we rarely have a hash without someone getting naked. Want to take a guess? It wasn't JUST GARY, the swimmer, he was already soaked and trying to dry off. KITTYLINGUS stripped naked and dove, head-first into the pond. Crazy man, you have to check the depth first. CUMSICLE stole his clothes and brought them back up to the truck while the rest of the hounds ate watermelon, cheesy poofs and chips. WIGGLES joined us there and this is also where we found out that JUST AMY had been detained by some barbed wire and called her hubby to come and get her. We were setting up the circle, because it was getting very cool and very dark, when KITTYLINGUS came strolling back up to the truck with his beer mug over his dick. JUST RICK was snapping pictures while CUMSICLE quickly retrieved his clothes from the bed of the truck. REMEMBER, no porn on our photo sharing sight. We want everyone to keep their jobs so they can keep hashing with us.
WE HAD A NAMING TODAY!! This was JUST ROBYN's sixth hash, but the drunk bastards who had her on number 5 forgot to name her. BUT FIRST, we had some rituals to attend to. The HARES took the ice chairs. We suggested DR ANUS go face-first this time, as no one had sat on it yet and his lip had come down considerably since the beginning of the run, but it still wasn't completely normal. He remained upright and we then put some folks on ice for TOO LONG BETWEEN HASHES - HAPPY MEAL, SNATCH WAX, SLOW POKER. Then the FRB,--YANKSIT, then the DFL--SLOW POKER. What's weird about that is he was one of the first ones at the halfway mark. Then DR ANUS had to get rid of that HUYA and who do you suppose earned that today? Why KITTYLINGUS of course. We weren't so concerned about him getting naked, but he kept offering to let us use his drinking vessel after he housed his dick and balls in it. NOTE TO HOUNDS: Don't share mugs with KITTYLINGUS. Then we put JUST GARY on ice for wearing new $10 red canvas high top sneakers and let him drink from one of them after we swirled a beer rinse in it to get the chunks out.
Finally, the naming. JUST ROBYN got on the ice and immediately began squirming and it started to rain. She doesn't yet know the ice stages and that everything would be alright in a few minutes when she wouldn't be able to feel anything. We threw out some old suggestions , BITCH, BITCH, BITCH--DAIRY QUEEN-- MILK CANNONS,--JUGS SOMETHING but then we were told she is a purchaser for Home Depot and we changed directions - HO DEPOT, DICK DEPOT, and being the clever hounds that we are, we settled on ::::::: drum roll please::: JUST ROBYN will forever, from here to eternity, be known by other hashers, as : "HO DEEP-HO".
I do believe that was the fastest naming we have ever done. Amazing how the creative juices get very active when you are getting poured on.
A couple of vehicles had been retrieved to auto hash the hounds back to their cars over a mile away. The rest of us rode in the back of JUST PUKE'S truck on top of the coolers, ice chairs and beer cans. We told him to drive careful as we didn't have much to hang onto. We coordinated our leaning with the turns so as not to fall out of the truck. HAPPY MEAL was having a hard time with this, because she was the only one sitting backwards, so we had to give two commands for every turn. Lean right, that's HAPPY MEAL's left! We all made it back to our cars just as the storm broke loose and commenced to pounding Palm Bay with heavy rain. A few of us were headed to Corvette's in Satellite Beach to hear FIRE's band, - AK 40.
Come on out to the County Line on 25 July around 9 o'clock to hear them again as we are planning a
hash invasion. This is a big gig for them and they've been pumping it up for a couple of months now. If
you got an AK40 t-shirt from FIRE, wear it to get in free.
Get your thinking caps on too, as the next hash JUST RICK and JUST GARY attend will be their naming hash. Cockpit and Crotchduster are doing Cockpit's birthday hash on the 2nd of August. Watch the website for more details. Our 100th run is coming up in September too, so mark your calendars for this milestone.
We need more hares too!!!! Remember, ANUS makes the trails every time he can't raise a hare. Sign up on the website!
The hares actually had some positive comments from their trail today, and we didn't get too messy--we simply had a lot of fun. WE DRANK MORE and we BITCHED LESS! This was a very good day for hashing!
May the hash get a piece!
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#97 - 11th Anniversary of COCKPIT’S 25th Birthday
August 2nd, 2003
Hares: Cockpit and Crotchduster
Hounds and Harriettes: Fire, Bike Bitch, Yanksit, Dr Anus, Uncle Pervy, Cockpit, Crotchduster, Just Tara, Just Gary, In My Mouth, Suckulator, Dick Sniffa, Just Aurora, Ass Squealer, Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Just Rick, Waay Beyond Gay, Latrine Wolverine, Mount Dora, Ho Deep-Ho, Cumsicle, Just Tanya, Just Mike, Just Rick, Just Dave
Hash Gear- From $1 to $10 bucks
Pitchers of Beer - $4 bucks if you get A good deal
Cockpit’s birthday hash with substantial snacks- $7 bucks
AAA - free if they actually show up
Spare Keys - a couple of bucks at your local hardware store
Duct Tape - a couple of bucks at your local hardware store
Having hasher friends who live in Merritt Island so you don’t have to drive your drunk-ass home to Malabar – PRICELESS.
It started out as a nice, hot sunny day and what looked like it would be an awesome 11th anniversary of COCKPIT’S 25th Birthday, Pub Crawl , but this is Florida and she’s been plagued by the rain before. We stood around waiting for all the hounds to arrive, including the beermeister, DR ANUS, who had the rest of our starter beer. FIRE had her hash album out again with a lot of extra pictures from prior to October of 2002. So if you hashed with them way back then, your naked ass might be in some of the stack that we are letting all hounds rifle through. Our hash cash, BIKE BITCH was also busy peddling his wares until he locked his keys in the car. (That’s a whole story in itself.) I’m thinking the next time anyone hollers out, “DOES ANYONE HAVE AAA? “ The answer should be, sorry guy, better call Pop-a-Lock , bust the window out or invest in a slim-jim. (He feels really bad about this but I couldn’t let the opportunity go by because we discussed later, informally, that he might be a good HUYA candidate.) Kittylingus has it now, but he was working overtime today, so we couldn’t pass it on anyway. We had a lot of folks to name today too, so we were pretty excited about the possibilities as we had been warming ourselves up for this the past couple of hashes. (Just Rick, Just Tara and Just Gary). We actually named some late arrivals and out of towners too - read on. We took our group grope shot and were ON-OUT.
The clouds off in the distance threatened to strike us with lighting, so the HARES, being safe hashers, decided we would auto hash to our first stop. WAAY BEYOND GAY demonstrated some competitive driving on the way- bad boy - it’s illegal to pass on the left, especially if it’s in the turn lane in busy Port Canaveral. We drove to a tiny little dive called Kaye’s Place and quickly determined we were all up in each other’s arm pits, so we moved ourselves out to the tiny but lovely (sarcasm) deck next to the trailer house and made our first attempt to name JUST GARY. He is an acquisitions person for pumps and he carves cherry wood into hash mugs. His favorite barnyard animal is a goat and he likes the woman on top (lazy bastard). I guess he doesn’t like to do push ups either. Just kidding, whatever turns your crank JUST GARY. We threw out quite a few names, but couldn’t cum up with one we really liked, but we sat him on ice while we had our thinking caps on. We had to improvise since this was a pub crawl and we didn‘t bring our ice chairs of death. There were plastic chairs on the deck and an ice machine. WAAY used his vessel to scoop ice in the chair and swore he had not had a drink out of it yet. We threw out Woody Suck Her, Cherry Fucker, Dry Rot, Wood Pumper, Wood Rubber, Sheep Shank Redemption, Rotten Stump, Knot Hole and told him to pull his pants up cuz we couldn’t get off.
We left that pub and auto-hashed to another spot in the Port - Rusty’s. On the way, we passed BIKE BITCH and FIRE at the start point where they were still waiting for AAA, however, they were doing their best to entertain themselves as they MOONED US as we drove by and honked. At Rusty’s, we picked up our bottled beer from COCKPIT as we straggled past her at the bar. The bartender was popping caps as fast as we came in. I think JUST DAVE showed up somewhere around here. We went thru the bar , off the back deck and onto the dock, where we conveniently found more plastic chairs and another ice machine (damn - it was locked). Not to worry, someone showed up with a bag of ice and we put CIRCLE BLOW on it - I can’t remember why - because she celebrated her 30th birthday between hashes? Oh yes, it’s a good thing I had my note pad or I would never remember all this shit - IT WAS BECAUSE SHE EARNED HER FAITHFUL HOUND, 25-HASH TAG (she actually earned it a while ago, YANKSIT finally got the information on the faithful hounds and made the tags). She is the 17th BVD hound to earn the tag. DICK SNIFFA AND IN MY MOUTH also earned their faithful hound tags and actually, these girls are pushing 30 or more runs by now. We had a small group of folks trying to watch our bare-ass spectacle, so we drew the hounds tighter as parents were walking by with their kids. The fishermen in their boats were especially entertained. We then put JUST RICK on ice to attempt a name for him. I hope he’s better at getting us off than JUST GARY or this was going to be a long night. He’s a manpower specialist in the Air Force, he drives race cars and we recalled had a problem pacing himself on the first toga hash, but he has since cleaned up his act. He had his toes painted red that night. He also used to work on a chicken farm, so we know what his favorite barnyard animal is. So for him, we spat out AssPower, SkyFAG, Turbo Cock, Feather Tender, Chicken Fucker and after he showed us that he had 3 nipples, we wanted to add mutant to every name we had already thrown out, but he shot our wad early and we came up with one we really liked …………JUST RICK will be known to all hashers from here until eternity as ………………COCK TENDER!! Then we had him do another down down for wearing head gear in the circle.
We still had to name JUST TARA and were doing our best to wait for BIKE BITCH to come and help us, but we were so proud of our last achievement, we wanted to continue and we’d been phone hashing with FIRE and BIKE BITCH all along, with no AAA in sight, so we put her on ice on the dock too. She is a phlebotomist and she likes to be tied up, cuffed or restrained and spanked and she likes it hard, 3 fingers is not enough and she is tiled. Hey it’s personal, but it’s important to have the history to understand the names. Once again, we couldn’t get off, but we messed around with more foreplay because we like it. We tossed out Slap my Pie, Finger Likken Good, Anal Positive, Stick Me, Vampire Bitch, Vein Drainer, Orplasmic, Bald Skeeter, Fist Friendly and something I cannot decipher even though it’s my own handwriting, and then we told her to get off the ice. I can’t remember where we finished naming JUST GARY, but we finally settled for ….drum roll please…. JUST GARY will be known to all hashers from here until eternity as …WOOD LIQUOR. He also takes orders for cherry wood custom hash mugs.
We watched our steps and passed a black pussy (yes a cat, sick bastards) as we left for the field of grass behind Rustys, where we set up another makeshift ice chair - two bags of ice that remained in the plastic on top of our big beer cooler. JUST TANYA had shown up with JUST MIKE and she’s had five hashes (MIKE”s only had two). At this point, I’m thinking the hounds were just a little bit cranky from all the foreplay with no orgasm. Some of the names thrown out here are plain evil. JUST TANYA swallows, has been half way with a girl, and the biggest dick she’s ever had was 11 inches. I hope you are able to accurately visualize this because we may have to start bringing a ruler to the hashes, as WOOD LIQUOR showed me 6 inches with his thumb and forefinger earlier and it looked more like 3 to me. I asked her if she could show us what 11 inches meant to her just to clarify. We tried Cock A Doodle DO, Endangered Cocksucker, Nipple Cracker, Cracker Snacker, Footlong Fucker and Splatter Damage before we decided on …..JUST TANYA will be known to all hashers from here until eternity as ……… CUM-STAINED TEETH.
JUST AURORA had been out with us before at FIRE’s big gig at the County Line although this was not her virgin hash. She hails from Boston, her favorite position is 69 and I vaguely remember the story that goes with the notes about the nipple clamps and toys at Fairvilla and something else about not doing anal and that wasn’t exactly true. Somewhere in here, CROTCHDUSTER tells us the story about the booger cup that his wife keeps in their vehicle. She didn’t tell us she was a collector? He also told us he only had 5 more hours to fuck a 35-year old. Anyway, back to JUST AURORA. If you don’t read the news, there is a huge tunnel being built in the Boston area that will help you understand some of these other names. And if you don’t know your history, I can’t help you with that here - there’s not enough time. We tried TEA BAGGER, LIKES TO GO SOUTH, BIG DIG (there were a lot more, I must have been having a private party as the rest of her page was blank, but we told JUST AURORA she will be known to all hashers from here until eternity as ……………… BUSTIN RED COCKS.
ASS SQUEALER decided it was important at this point to bring an accusation to the circle, but it was about himself, so he put his own ass on ice (that’s a hash first I believe). He said that it has been rumored that he only comes to hashes to get laid. He didn’t tell us whether it was true or not. Here are just a few important facts and I’ll let you hashers decide for yourselves:
1. Beer drinking and getting laid are historically a matched pair and Beer goggles have been known to help more than a few couples out.
2.He used to call himself the HASH STUD , which is a self-proclaimed title.
3. He’s only been back to the hash a handful of times according to the hash scrolls, which may mean either some of his tricks kept him busy for a while or he’s had a hard time getting it up in between.
We moved on to Franky’s Wings and Things and our reputation preceded us as our party room was WAAAAAAAAAAAAY in the back of this place. I think we went through 4 other big rooms before we got to ours. COCKPIT AND CROTCHDUSTER had them bring out trays of wings and some other snacks. I wouldn’t know what those were because we started playing a dice drinking game called 7-14-21. If you haven’t played it before, You count the dice each time a one is rolled. It’s not your turn anymore if you don’t roll any ones. Whoever rolls the seventh one, picks the shot. Whoever rolls the fourteenth one, buys the shot and whoever rolls the 21st shot drinks it . I joined the game after we switched from bourbon shots to double beer shots. YANKSIT, SUCKULATOR, UNCLE PERVY, COCK TENDER, DR ANUS, WOOD LIQUOR AND myself all played this game, so I hope the rest of you had someone to drive you home too. I’ll just say this: HASHING - GOOD….DRINKING GAMES -- VERY VERY BAD.
The angry man, BIKE BITCH, and FIRE finally joined us. Turns out the spare key was where he left it, it just took him 2 and a half hours to find it. FIRE says she will post her own mini trash for their parking lot hash. CROTCHDUSTER was playing detective and found uniformed and plain clothes cops in the restroom, but he said they were eating in the dining room so we were probably OK. Someone broke out blow pops (I’m thinking Circle) and we bit ours to get to the gum faster so we could do some gum swapping. We stole SUCKY’S pop and he didn’t even know it as he was playing the drinking game. COCK TENDER sat in as the Stunt Cunt for WOOD LIQUOR. COCKPIT was treated with some SHAM - PANIA for her birthday, that’s champagne for you country folks. It was also time for her birthday spanking. When asked her preference, she said she liked ASS PACKET’s the best. So we brought ASS SQUEALER over for some spanking lessons (as I am told he is quite a bruiser). ASS PACKET went first, and COCKPIT’S face was smiling. SQUEALOR gave her a whack and she winced in pain, so PACKET had to back him up to spanking 101 - firm, yet not stinging, and let the hand linger on the spank spot to keep stinging to a minimum, rub if necessary. I threw in a couple of whacks and we kept SQUEALER in remedial spank school until we felt he was ready to go it alone with his new skills.
Once the food was gone and the game players were all lit up, we moved on to our final point, the Grills, where a few of the hounds hung by the bar with the KILLER BITCH, as this is a meat market place and if you stand close to someone who is getting a lot of attention, you better your chances. I was on the dance floor from the time we arrived at GRILLS (it’s good to stop drinking before the end of a pub crawl and work some of the alcohol out of you). I did so by dancing with several hounds, including a sandwich dance with SUCKY and ASS PACKET, some old man who liked to spin me around, and I also did a couple of lap dances for a couple of old guys near the dance floor (yes, I kept my clothes on you gutter heads). Sometimes you just have to say “What the Fuck”. I’m pretty sure the band was good.
The COCKPIT rain curse had ended and it turned out to be a very good night where we enjoyed the sights and night life of Port Canaveral. HAPPY BIRTHDAY COCKPIT!!! Great Party!
For those of you who were recently named, if you’d like to be listed on the BVD website, send a digital picture and your email address (optional) to our Webmeister, AssPacket at email@example.com. Check out our site http://www.bvdh3.com/ to see who’s already out there. I’ll be gone to the Treasure Coast Red Dress hash in two weeks, but will return for our following hash.
May the hash get a piece - even SQUEALER
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#98 - Football Hash
August 16th, 2003
Hares: Squealer and Anus
Hounds - How the hell should I know? I wasn’t there. I heard at least Bike Bitch and Kittylingus made it and I think Fire and Yanksit were probably there too.
It was a fine day as Happy Meal and I set off in her SUV on our way to Stuart Florida. Seems like it might have been a fine day in Melbourne too, but we were headed south to the Treasure Coast red dress hash, so who gives a crap. I heard our hounds gathered at Ichabod’s just east of downtown Melbourne. I visualize SQUEALER in black grease paint under his eyes, with a jersey and shorts on and a pocket full of rubbers - or not. I picture ANUS looking much the same, maybe some shoulder pads and some cleats. Maybe they were both wearing cleats. I can see Ass Packet in a red cheerleader skirt with white pleats, with his long hair down, and that is actually what he was wearing because I saw him at the Red Dress. Circle Blow didn’t participate in the cheerleader thing this time, even though I know she has the outfit, but went instead for a short sexy red dress. I know that cuz she was on the Treasure Coast with us too. Cockpit was wearing FIRE’s 7-11 red shirt and a skirt, because if she had made this hash, I’m almost certain she would have worn a helmet. I’d guess FIRE either went for the sexy football jersey look and really short shorts or she said to hell with it and wore yet another of her vast collection of hash gear.
I’m thinking the BIKE BEEYATCH wore his hair in pig tails and multi-color ribbons, a skirt with no drawers and tied some pom poms on his shoe laces because he’s gay like that. And YANKSIT was probably wearing a jock strap, ass out, cleats and a tank top cuz I know he prefers them over t-shirts which are too hot. Wait------ this has turned into fantasy hash trash instead of blind hash trash. Better start doing this by braille. I feel a hairy ass--that must be KITTYLINGUS - I remember the incident from the JAX red dress run with the fabric glue and the foot --- bad, bad Kitty with a bald spot. Let’s see, these hard-on-top, round things, that must be FIRE - remember we did some tit-comparisons back on the birthday girl hash in January? If PUKE was there, he was no doubt wearing some striped tube socks that he refuses to throw away and a little towel tucked in the front of his shorts----for slobber cleanup I would imagine.
I’d bet my panties that our newly named hashers were out there too - like WOOD LIQUOR and COCK TENDER. I feel a wooden mug - that would be LIQUOR, and a mutant double nipple - that would be COCK TENDER unless he was out racin cars. I’m thinking CUM-STAINED-TEETH took a breather - sh*t - if someone gave me that name, I’d never cum back. The SUCKULATOR is not here today - at least I don’t feel the fat boy’s tummy. OH NO - he shrunk - someone feed him a pizza quick, we like FAT BOY TOGA hashes. He’s been doing the Atkins thing and is getting all skinny and boney.
I heard some folks screaming in the parking lot about cars driving through their chalk talk. I know the BITCH was peddling some haberdashery because WE HAVE BRAND NEW “WHERE INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR IS ENCOURAGED” ROYAL BLUE SHIRTS. Get em while they last. I’m told the early trail marks were invisible and hounds threatened to find the nearest bar and plank it til the hares came home. The first beer check was in someone’s driveway. Everyone got “deliciously dirty” as quoted by KittyL. A hash-friendly person even let them lay trail through his back yard and over a platform into some more deep shiggy and a whole lot of mud. There were apple pie shots at the next beer check and some kind of spiral tube slide that caused some booty pain. They visited a park, but I know it wasn’t Wickham park, because they would have been kicked out of there and I know they did NOT cross the causeway. I’m thinking there had to be some very drunk hashers and traumatized virgins if you tried to hang with DR ANUS and ASS SQUEALER all night.
DICK SNIFFA may have been there, because she’s crafty and may have had a ready-made cheerleader costume. By now I was 100 miles away enjoying a warm up beer at the tiki bar and my eyes aren’t that good.
If I’ve forgotten anyone, that must have been when I reached my alcohol limit for the evening and crashed.
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#99 – Mystery Hash
August 30th, 2003
Hare: Mr E Hare who was unable to be with us, assisted by Dr Anus and Yanksit
Hounds: Yanksit, Bike Bitch, Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Ass Squealer, Happy Meal, Dr Anus, Dick Sniffa, Stumbelina, Eager Beaver, IMM, Cockpit, Cock Tender, Million Buck Fuck, Wood Liquor, Big Canal and Cumsicle
Visiting Hounds: Amelia Airfart, Tongue n Groove, Pecker Hunter, Community Chest, Down N Dirty, Big Baboon
Virgin: Just Mike (Bike Bitch made him cum)
Later Fire, Richard Pierce and Wee Wee joined us at the on-after at Wids.
We were in trouble before we even got started. The security guard at the completely vacant Dictaphone parking lot reminded us several times that we were on private property and had to leave. We stalled as long as possible to wait for arriving hounds and moved our start point to the Hot Lixx Adult Toy store just across the street. When posing for our group grope (which by the way was lost in space on my camera - perhaps PECKER HUNTER will share his copy - the one we took on his secret agent camera that fits in an Altoid tin), the manager came out and asked why we were impeding the horny people from getting in the store? Once again, BIKE BITCH, our “Blow Me Spokesperson” asked if he’d like to be in the picture and could we all get a group discount at the store. He said sure and we said we’d be back after we finished our run to stock up on butt plugs, hand cuffs and lube. Not for sex, but for the ice chair to keep the Klingons from entering any unknown galaxies, and if they did enter, the lube would help them slide out easier. Many folks were sporting their new "inappropriate behavior" shirts and our hash cash was pushing the gear hard, utilizing his ANUSIZED box that was sectioned off into 9 equal compartments to sort the sizes. WOOD LIQUOR ,a natural born hasher after only a few injections of the BVD hash, is now starting to resemble a young Gilligan. His "Life is Good" hat with the hand sewn BVD patch on the top allowed him to blend so well with the group, we are starting to think he was hatched on one of our trails. He could also be YANKSIT's younger brother. You never know with all the inbreeding that goes on with hashers. And here's a hint for you bloodhounds: when you are in the parking lot awaiting a run, a harriette pulls up and throws up her sun visors on the side of the car instead of in the windshield and doesn't exit the car for 15 minutes, somebody's getting naked, check it out, I mean , leave the bitch alone. While we were waiting, we also got to view the Easy Rider Magazine or whatever the publication was, with our very own Puta and BIKE BITCH in the photos. Very sexy....nice tiara BITCH.
We didn’t know if the Mr E Hare was among us or not and we decided that except for the shiggy, the fact that is was very short and a couple of which-ways, we really had nothing to work with as far as more clues to guess his identity. We were off into a water ditch immediately. Another of our chivalrous hounds, SQUEALER, offered a hand to the harriettes as we tried to hurdle the obstacle, until DICK SNIFFA almost pulled him in, he then took off for a frogger game across Sarno road, through the Dictaphone parking lot just to let the security guard know we were really gone and another frogger match across Eau Gallie. A few of us short cutting bastards managed to find the first beer stop - or should I say beer rationing station, after cutting thru a bushel of shiggy. We had an abnormally large group today and the normal portions of beer were not lasting long. Apparently this game playing thing had intrigued a bunch of folks. Nice job Mr E Hare - who'd have thunk a bunch of half-minds would like to be intellectually stimulated?
There's not alot to tell about the trail. It was short. We found cardboard signs on trail. We had been briefed about pink construction tape and universal markings. We scratched ourselves up a bit and arrived at the first beer check with blood on trail - DOWN N DIRTY, CUMSICLE AND SOME OTHER UNRECOGNIZABLE LEGs (which means I can't remember) had lacerations. ASS PACKET caused a seismic event when he tripped over a stump in the shiggy. I passed it too and really, it was camouflaged well and you couldn't see the big round wooden thing with the hole in the middle at all. Perhaps that's where he lost his cell phone. Poor baby. We offered later to go in the woods with our techno gadgets and call his electronic umbilical cord, but he was pissed, said it was insured and continued to drink beer.
Very soon after we left our beer check, we arrived in a clearing and after wandering around confused for a couple of minutes, we realized, this is it. This is our circle. It was early, we had lots of folks present and plenty of reasons to put folks on ice. First, we had to figure out who this hare was. AP, who swears he had been privvy to the diabolical scheme at some time in his foggy past, showed us his sealed envelope that he did not bury under his porch as promised. He let DR ANUS peek at the inside of the card with the oiled bent-over ass that held a mug of beer. ANUS shook his head no. We then went around the circle with one guess per hasher. I'm quite sure some folks guessed correctly, but I didn't write down who, so PUKE, tell them what they've won son!!!
An all expenses paid, no-frills night on the town with the pub crawler himself, the king of shiggy and short trails, the hairy monster of Melbourneville, and a big fat wet sloppy kiss and a bear hug.
PUKE called in right on time after we had exposed him and he explained that he was unable to be with us as his father was not doing well (prayers out to you my brother and a few bear hugs for you when you return).
Let's see, this would have been PUKE's favorite part - lots of Klingon time in the ice chairs of death for almost every hasher present. FRB WOOD LIQUOR, DFL COMMUNITY CHEST, Virgin JUST MIKE and the BIKE BITCH that he rode in on. We iced harriettes for exposing NIPPLEs, visitors just for showing up, the COCK cousins: PIT and TENDER (down downs hurt COCKPIT'S dentures. I'm guessing she wears dentures cuz I distinctly remember her saying the beer was too cold and her teeth were sensitive). I think it was actually something about using a wanker name. We iced those who weren't wearing new hash attire, old hash attire or any hash attire at all (no not naked - just wanker clothes.) We asked the virgin to freshen the ice. DOWN N DIRTY performed ice stunt cunt duties for Puta for making the news in EASY RIDER. I believe the exact words were, "DOWN N DIRTY, you can sit cuz Puta's a whore!. " Puta, you know we love you and only mean that as the highest form of compliment to a sexy bitch. ANUS rode stunt dick for PUKE. We put August birthdays on ice, COCKPIT and COMMUNITY CHEST. ANUS told us some announcement about a party at the House of Porn, but I can't remember when, so he'll have to push that one hard if he wants anyone to cum. ANUS and SQUEALER put themselves on ice - guess they were hot. I'll say!! DR ANUS pulled out some lost property-- some nut cup of a visiting baseball player and I think COCKPIT was the one who confiscated it, but she refused to drink out of it. She's got class after all. BIG BABOON sang us a new song that we really liked. We said we'd have to remember that one, but alas, today there aren't any notes or words--simply no recall of the song at all. When the circle ended, there was still daylight and beer left over, so the crowd did not disperse immediately. HAPPY MEAL, MILLION BUCK FUCK, COCK TENDER AND CUMSICLE took off for Hot Lixx to get first dibs on the sex toys (really because the harriettes had to pee). On the way back, the hounds told stories of great waterfalls, ocean waves, fire hoses, rushing rivers and a menagerie of other wet things. DAMMIT, we can't pee standing up and it's just not fair! Some noisy auto hashers passed us on the way. The hashers invaded the Hot Lixx store and CIRCLE BLOW found her Hash-o-ween costume, COCK TENDER AND CUMSICLE found some Pimp dolls that say "Bitch you better make me some money" when you pound them on the head. CUMSICLE got in the restraints (the stocks) under HAPPY MEAL'S expert advice and took some photos while DOWN N DIRTY practiced her dominatrix skills with a rubber flogger. Don't worry Hot Lixx, we saw the sign that said no cameras, we don't plan to sell the plans to the machine. It's much easier for us to create our own sex toys. In fact, the BIKE BITCH let us play with his real handcuffs when we got back to the LGC following the on-after at Wids.
We changed in the parking lot, headed for Wids, had much rejoicing, celebrated Fire's birthday and tore up some hot wings. We also got a lesson from BIG CANAL on the proper way for a virgin to be "invited to the ass". I'm thinking you had to be there, but she explained, that this (pointing her butt at BIKE BITCH) is how you are invited to the ass. If you are not invited to the ass, you are not allowed to touch it. Hashing does not mean free groping, hard spanking or tit checking. Some of you hounds will have to demonstrate being "invited to the package" next time. We spanked SQUEALER til our hands hurt, gave him some more feedback on his 11-step spanking program. I can just hear him at his meetings: " Hi, My name is SQUEALER and I'm a hard spanker." We decided we had enough of this place and were going to the LGC to see his new pussies. We had the usual naked folks in the hot tub, a few of us playing with the young pussy (the party animal) by the fireplace (the older one has no libido and was hiding under the bed), another showing of Bat Thumb in Gaathumb City, a clip from Jurassic Park and the beginning of The Secretary before we decided to put the BITCH and his pussies to bed and go out for breakfast at Denny's. Our waitress, JUST BARBARA, doubled as a security guard, trying to break up a fist fight that ensued in front of the place with about 7 strapping young teenagers. Times are tough.
I believe we did it again. More drinking and less bitching. See you in two weeks in your red dresses at Ron Jons. We are also cumming up on daylight savings time changes at the end of the month, so our October hashes will start earlier (2:00 pm) until DST in the spring again when they return to 4:00 pm..
It was just pointed out to me that the store we were in was named Hot Flixx due to the many porn movies they have. I didn't go on that side of the store with all the toys on the other side.
May the hash go in peace. Thank you Mr E Hasher. Would you like to play a game again soon?
ASS PACKET - be a doll and post my landfill item soon.
Cumsicle, ON SEC
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#100 - Red Dress Pub Crawl
September 13th, 2003
Hares: Dr. Anus, FireinDaHole, Yanksit
Virgins: Just Rachel, Just Ryan
Hounds: BVDH3: Ass Packet, Ass Squealer, Circle Blow, Cock Tender, Cockpit, Cumsicle, DickSniffa, Dollar In It, Happy Meal, Ho-Deep Ho, Just Amy, Just Gary, Wood Liquor, Kittylingus, Million Buck Fuck, Mini Bike Bitch (doll), Puta Cock In It, Stumbelina, Suckulator, Salt Lick Titty
SCH3: Pocket Rocket, Skybox, Woody
Hurricane H3: Pecker Hunter
Corned Beef H3: Community Chest
TBH3: Dick Rash, Tits on Command, Virgin for Life
DBH3: Gilligan, Richard Pierce, Pussy Comes Early, Wee Wee, Likes 2 Bang Poles/ Icebox (dog) , Momma, No Blow, Waay Beyond Gay, Sunk'n Shit, Paid To Lay, Divide My Pie, SkinAmax, Flash
JAXH3: Scuba Dooba Do Me,
OH3: Fairly Small, Wet Dream, (hope I put you in the right place Woody)
02H3: IVA, Diddy Cum
Savannah H3: Tequila Tony
I bet you've all just been sitting out there waiting for the trash, mostly because all 51 of you (and a dog and a doll) are dying to find out just what the h*ll kind of inappropriate behavior did you get into last night? I was too, because my hash trash notes were looking thin and towards the back pages, they were completely unreadable. I may have to go back to the recorder.
What a great day for a gender-bender and implant Hash 100! Hurricane Isabel was spinning way out in the Atlantic Ocean allowing us to keep our feathers and tresses dry. We began our day hanging out on the second story railing of the Cocoa Beach, Motel 6 like a bunch of Red Light District Ho's (we never did make it to the Ron Jon's parking lot, so thanks to the clever and brave hounds who walked highway A1A south in their red dresses to the motel to find us). We put name tags on a couple of non-bead wearing hashers. JUST RYAN said he would introduce himself from his hiney and of course ASS SQUEALER would introduce himself from his dick, so that's where the stickers went. SUCKULATOR announced that part of our profits would be going to the Aslyn Craft fund, the surviving daughter of KGB from the JAX H3. He also booted some minors out of our registration room. I guess they thought if they came wearing lipstick, they’d look older. Duh - that only works for women with big boobs, not guys. When asked to produce ID’s they began to stutter something about just cumming from Coconuts, so of course they were of age, but their ID’s were in the car. They didn’t return. SUCKULATOR AKA TERMINATOR. FAIRLY SMALL altered his grandma dress before he took off with a pair of scissors. CUMSICLE also put the scissors to work on her dress to shorten the liner - woa - if your butt gets any bigger, your ass is going to be out - that was a little too short.
IVA BIG'UN from the O2H3 offered what he's learned from the BVDHHH 100th Hash and Red Dress R*n and even he helped me add some pieces to the trash because I had forgotten them until he mentioned them.
• Hashers are nuts, just accept them for who they are.
• Foreign visitors just join in and have fun.
• English accents are just wonderful.
• If you do a "cheerleader split" in the sand with a teeny tiny thong, you're going to get sand in your cooter. You have your choice of hashers volunteering to help clean the sand off.
• Some guys enjoy putting on a dress waaaayyyy too much.
• Jumping in the pool with a harriette for the wet t-shirt look is good.
• Jumping in the pool with a harriette and your digital camera is bad.
• Puta never stops talking. Okay, I already knew this, but thought I'd say it anyway.
• If you are the last person out of the last bar you'll miss the pizza.
• I'm always the last out of the bar. -IVA
We hung around the motel quite a long time discussing sex and babies with FIREINDAHOLE on the balcony. DR ANUS said he liked the sound of A, but we'd have to work on B. Actually, we were waiting on all the folks who signed up to show up and we had some r*nners going back and forth between the Ron Jon's parking garage and the motel. It seems a lot had changed since out last instructional message. We lost our poolside registration suite, but hung the HHH flag with the bra off the second floor railing near the Motel 6 check-in, stuck hash feet on the window to the room and managed to get everyone to the right place. The MINI BIKE BITCH assisted with registration, mostly because he wanted to show off his new velvet red dress that DOLLAR IN IT had made him and his red boa. WOOD LIQUOR brought some rubber boobs to wear under his dress, but it was chafing his shoulder incisions too much, so those boobs went to waste in the registration room. Hey man, if you can’t wear them, carry them on trail. We could have played some fun games with the hooters. We took our group grope shot from the railing and had our pink chalk talk from the same venue. Our hares were off laying a live trail and CIRCLE BLOW led us in a Father Abraham while the manager of the hotel looked on. We had strict orders: one complaint and we were out with no refund. We took some photos of our most outrageous Red Dress participants and were ON-ON to complete the BVDHHH 100th Hash. I'd say the trophy for this one goes to NO BLOW for the daring fish nets with a neon yellow thong and red boa tail feathers. Check the www.ofoto.com website for the full visual. I believe you have to be subscribed to the firstname.lastname@example.org to view the photos. And those DBH3 hashers must have the hookup with the transvestite community as they have the most patent-leather, red, thigh-high boots I've ever seen. JUST GARY showed up with spare red dresses - guess he had a banner day at the Salvation Army - so no one could complain about having nothing to wear. JUST AMY was here again, and this would be her 5th hash, but since we don’t normally do namings at major events, you’ll have to cum out to HAPPY MEAL and CUMSICLE’S virgin lay on the 27th of Sep at Lansing Gleason park, just north of Eau Gallie on South Patrick Drive at 4 pm. We hadn’t seen HO Deep-HO in a while before today either, so be advised, the ice chairs of death will be waiting for you for too long between hashes.
No sooner had we left the parking lot of the Motel 6, than DICK RASH had lost one of his pin-on ponytails. KITTYLINGUS grabbed it right up, the little muffin snatcher, and asked who lost their ponytail? CUMSICLE yelled over, "Hey that's my muffin, give it back!" We barely made it around the block and we were off into the LAGOON LOUNGE, where Dave, our bartender, had pitchers of beer waiting for us and some of our hounds performed beer wench duties. This was feeling much like a FAT BOY TOGA hash. Very nice. Some of the hounds seemed to be having a bit of a problem determining which restroom to go to while dressed in drag (see the photos of RICHARD PIERCE, KITTYLINGUS and VIRGIN FOR LIFE). We posted DR ANUS on a chair to award him a faithful hound tag for two years of hashing. We also brought up GILLIGAN for completing 25 r*ns with BVD. Or were they up there because they both had matching red purses for their dresses? YANKSIT asked the TAMPA BAY HHH to come up for a down down and later several harriettes bought tickets for the SKINAMAX ADVENTURE ISLAND RIDE. This was a limited attraction. You had to be at least 3 feet tall to ride and the ride was over when the batteries wore out. I didn't see any hounds on the ride either. I believe COCKPIT was the first in line and she wasn't strapped in, so SKINA, you may want to invest in some insurance for those who fall off. (see photo) For those of you who missed it, he had a pen sized vibrator hanging from zipper of his spandex shorts under his dress. So, hounds, take note, this man didn't go but a few minutes all night long without a harriette in his lap or rubbing her hiney on his twig and berries. TEQUILA TONY from the SAVANNAH H3, not only drove the furthest, but he showed HAPPY MEAL his cock at the LAGOON LOUNGE. You may think, "that's nothing, we do that all the time", but he actually had a rooster G-string on under his snakeskin red dress, complete with long snakeskin gloves (see photo). STUMBELINA decorated KITTYLINGUS’ dick with her hair ribbon. (see photo). Don’t tell anyone at his office where he works that part of his Jimmy is on the website again. He gave it back, because we saw it in her hair as she was leaving.
We quickly finished up the down downs and were ON OUT to the beach and a Jell-O shot and beer stop where we molested a green car. For some reason, everyone pulled out their technology on trail at this point. I could hear them saying, “Beam me up Scotty” It was early, even though the keg had been tapped for hours and some of us should have had a good buzz by now. I heard someone mention there was no shortage of vodka in the Jell-O shots. That equates to - “this is some good shit”. COCK TENDER finally showed up sporting a sparkling backless red dress and a white boa. I passed his black bowler hat on to him finally and he looked adorable. JUST RYAN and ASS SQUEALER were holding their SHOW US YOUR BOOBS sign and when they were unsuccessful on their first attempt, they flipped it over, where it said SHOW US YOUR BOOBS, PLEASE and usually got the correct response (see photo). We held a HOT BUNZ contest where the names will be withheld to protect those who would like to keep their jobs (see photos). Oh what the h*ll, who doesn't know that the tanned bunz are STUMBELINA'S and the white buns (no tan lines on either) belong to NO BLOW. Someone, who recognizes the power of the scribe, came running over to me and asked me to take this down - "Don't touch your dick to my ear..." a direct quote from SALT LICK TITTY. Hey, don't ask me what it means, you'll have to ask her, no further details were given, but you can bet this was some of the inappropriate behavior that was promised. DAYTONA'S BIKETOBERFEST was announced for October while we sucked Jell-O shots from the tiny cups and off of each other's chests. GILLIGAN had brought a supply of implants for the hounds and one by one, our hounds dresses were filling out. Some had nice perky nipples showing, others were smooth like they were wearing a sweater bra under their dresses. These were the $1.69 a bag implants, the latex balloon versions. They really are much cheaper than real implants and if you don't like the size, you can always change it the next day. They don't wear well though, as one bite from CUMSICLE and you are all f*cked up and uneven. ASS PACKET liked CIRCLE BLOW'S implants so much, he said he'd have to start saving his pennies so he could get her the real deal. I forgot to mention that we took a profile view of the torpedo tits at the LAGOON (see photo). We had this stop right after we came off a short beach walk, so this must have been where the thong wearers were doing the splits. Sand in your clit must be a bitch! JUST RACHEL and KITTYLINGUS were doing target practice with their Jell-O shots. She had one mashed in to the top of her dress and KITTY had one stuck on his bits and pieces, you know, his wedding tackle, his meat and tubage. They weren’t the only ones taking advantage of sucking a little Jell-O off the skin. This is one occasion where dribbling and spillage are not only socially acceptable, but highly encouraged, especially if you have a hard time getting laid.
We were off to our next stop--some TIKI bar with a pool nearby and more restrooms that we ignored the signs on. I may never be able to find this bar again. Speaking of batteries, this is where DICK RASH decided to start a wet t-shirt contest with some harriettes by jumping in the pool, HOWEVER, he was still wearing a fanny pack with his technology loaded (digital camera). The batteries turned hot as shit and SALT LICK TITTY hid them in a potted plant. Guess we won't see any of the porn shots from that disk- damn! POCKET ROCKET began stealing bras somewhere around here too and was wearing a plane jane white one until he took one look at CUMSICLE'S convertible necklace red strapless bra. I asked him how he got the white bra off the harriette and he proceeded to demonstrate on me just how easy it was to take it. He passed his white one off to WET DREAM. It matched his dress nicely, but that shit was expensive, so I asked him to take good care of it, don’t let anyone fondle it with sticky fingers, and give it back later. I was then interrupted by THE SUCKULATOR, who was telling me they had been running a hottest harriette contest and they decided HAPPY MEAL was it. Immediately, I began to play devil's advocate, which is nothing personal towards HM. She is hot, no doubt. I asked SUCKY, what about me, F*ck HAPPY MEAL? What is the criteria for being #1? He proceeded to give me a tonsillectomy and said I was hot and he might have to reconsider, but he’d have to do some recounts first. We found some luvly British girls who decided to join us for a bit of inappropriate behavya. One of them allowed NO BLOW to allouette her (see photo) and WOODY actually got all three of them to join us on trail. We’ve neva hod Royals cum with us for a bit of trail befawr. The allouette girl tried to tell us a joke, but we are hashers and our attention span is short. We didn’t hear most of it and we might have laughed, but only because we were shit-faced or we were sitting on SKINAMAX‘ lap. HAPPY MEAL and I started our normal “drawers collection” at this point also, since the hounds were doing their own Goodwill collections with bras. Now doesn’t that feel better than being all bound up in shorts? What the hell good is a dress if you can’t let the breeze pass freely thru your thighs? It wasn't a good night. We only managed to get POCKET ROCKET's and SQUEALER'S for the cause. Lighten up guys. The big boobs that the hounds were carrying around were starting to weigh them down, so we also started breast reduction procedures at this point. No surgery rooms or anesthetic necessary. I just took a big bite out of them through their dresses. MILLION BUCK FUCK said he now understood and was fully empathetic with flat-chested girls. I have some thing down about SQUEALER having to do 10 pushups for someone. That should have been a piece of cake for a hash stud. Don’t have a clue what it was for. I was told that a harriette purposely came out of the bathroom with toilet paper hanging out of her unmentionables, but I didn’t catch the name (their might be a photo).
ON OUT with the Royals in tow. I’m told the allouette girl dumped ASS SQUEALER. How can this be? Not the hash stud. Maybe the foreigner did not understand that the hound has rarely been told no, despite the gut he’s put on in the past year. (He told me about the spare tire he‘s getting rid of, so it’s OK for me to say this). OK, here‘s the rest of the story. She was pushing him in a shopping cart and didn’t maneuver the curb very well and dumped him out of the cart, banging and scratching up his elbow. He’s a tough sailor, he’ll live to hash and be dumped another day. Did someone catch this on film? He also said he showed his dick to a 6 year old by accident. You must learn to tell the difference between minors and midgets boy! We had one more stop before we reached our final pub and that was the Apple Pie Administration Station. What happened to the cinnamon? Or is that just another black hole in my evening? We rounded the Sunset Grille for some dancing on the deck right on the river - to include POLE DANCING by PUTA, FIRE AND CUMSICLE and whoever else could grab on. I remember YANKSIT grabbing the microphone after the band went on break, but have no idea what he announced. My notes now, are absolutely looking like a one year old got a hold of the pen. Totally indecipherable. I could only fill in any holes with the interviews I took over the phone today. I was hoping when I looked at some of the photos I took, it would bring back some memories, but nothing- just a total blank- and I didn't even play the drinking game. KITTY says he lost the patch he glued to his bare hairy ass again. Many of the hounds would have to go about chunking off their red nail and toe nail polish before their masculinity was in question. Unless they were lucky enough to know a female with some remover. It’s hard to get your toes in your mouth and most people will not chew it off for you. Remover is cheap, but if you still feel like it falls in the same category as buying tampons, especially when you are wearing red nail polish when you go in the store, you can call 1-800-I’M A MANGIRL to get someone to buy it for you.
I’m not really sure when we decided to head on back to the hotel, but apparently we didn’t all leave at the same time. There was pizza waiting for us in the room, as well as a cop who said we couldn’t hang out on the balcony. So we all retreated to our cubes and those who were unfortunate enough to get snagged in the registration room played chandelier quarters until their heads hurt. BVD hashers can’t seem to do road trips without some bed wrestling, so of course we had a few pileups to release sexual tension.
Thanks to the hares for an excellent pub crawl and a ripping good time! Until our next hash or road whore adventure, May the hash get a piece!!
CUMSICLE, ON SEC
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#101 - A La Mode
Sept, 27th 2003
Hares: Happy Meal and Cumsicle
Hounds and Harriettes: Fire, Yanksit, Salt Lick Titty, Golden Shower, Woody, Squealer, Ass Squealer (not to be confused - there were two), Ass Packet, Suckulator, Circle Blow, Bike Bitch, In My Mouth, Eager Beaver, Just Amy, Ho Deep Ho, Wood Liquor, Just Phil, Just Bill, The other Just Bill also known as Bikini Bill, Dr Anus, Just Shar La La La La, Just Vick (picked up on trail), Dick Sniffa, Community Chest, Kittylingus, Cock Tender, Wood Liquor, and Million Buck F*ck
0930- HAPPY MEAL and I started a beautiful sunny day laying trail. We both rounded the lake at the park. We plopped flour on the climbing equipment in the park so our FRB hounds would have something to slow them down. We went thru some brief shiggy, out the back of the park and started our Eagle/Turkey separation. The Eagle trail wasn't harder, just longer, CUMSICLE sweated, HAPPY MEAL drove. We both got out and laid a count back 13 and continued trail to the beach, which was the site of our halfway games, then ran out of flour, bought more, and finished our trail to the circle. 4 miles long (challenging enough for the FRB's yet just long enough for the whiny hounds to have something to whine about). We left bits of the trail unmarked and planned to lay those live when we returned (the beach part, the Turkey/Eagle at Canova Park, which would have routed one group up a ramp and the other up steep stairs). Just another thing to slow those damn FRB’s down. 15 pounds of flour - not bad for our first time out.
Noon - Two and a half hours later, our perfect trail was done. The sun was still shining. The truck was junky with coolers, chalk, flour, hash gear, shag bags, chips and circle paraphernalia. We were pretty proud of ourselves. A little slow, but hey, it was our virgin lay - we like to take our time.
12:15 We drive back to Cocoa Beach to get changed and cleaned up and the sky was getting darker. The closer we got to the Happy House, the harder it rained. We were certain we’d have to lay the entire trail again.
1:30 We head back down to Eau Gallie early - certain we were going for more flour--but we get there, the roads were dry, the sky was dark, but it was not raining. Could it be? Were we this lucky? We check out a pub or two for possible beer pitcher specials, but no one would cut a deal. No matter, we planned our on after for Key West for the atmosphere. As we sat in the Purple Porpoise eating our lunch and having a well deserved beer amidst a ton of men, wondering why we don’t cum to the sports bars more often, we asked the bartender if he might switch just one of the 7 TV’s tuned to college football over the bar to the weather channel. We said “because we need to know when it stops raining as we watched the down pour thru the plate glass window that covered the entire side of the building.
Shit, 10 more pounds of flour and off we go - this time auto- haring because we had no time. HAPPY MEAL drove, I threw flour out the open door. By the time we reached the end of the trail, it was raining again and we knew the beginning of our auto-hared trail may need to be “thrown” again.
Some things I learned from our virgin lay:
• If it rains on your parade, buy plenty of flour and bring a 12 pack or a case to hold you over til the beermeister arrives
• Always have a poncho and a towel in your trunk
• It would be really nice if our BVD coolers had wheels on them.
• Most asked question of the day--- "What are you doing?" as we dropped flour from the truck for the third time.
• If it looks like water, tastes like water, but has 3 fat olives in it, it ain't water (YANKSIT and WOODY, I hope your head hurts like mine did the day after)
Finally, 4:00 came and a small crowd was gathering. We donned our huge rubbers (ponchos) and waited to see if our mission was complete. The hash cash set up under the lid of Happy Meal’s truck and the rain eased up while we laid everyone we could with pink beads, welcumming them to our virgin lay. WOOD LIQUOR brought us some wooden mini mugs that he had been whittling for a few weekends. He is good with his tools! We got a little more help from Dr Anus at the start of our perfect trail (well it was perfect at noon). We asked him to run the hounds around the lake without marks and find a rock on the other side of the parking lot once they completed their circular run and look for flour at the edge of the trees. Since we weren’t on trail, I took some interview inputs from JUST BILL (BIKINI BILL THAT IS):
ASS PACKET shortcutted. He skipped the around the lake part completely and just headed up the straightaway becuz they had seen the trail ahead of time. I think that's grounds for a down down or maybe even the return of the HUYA.
SALT LICK TITTY found toys on trail....she stole some kids ball out of a yard and kicked it down the street with her. She also wanted to steal somebody's yard ducks.
COMMUNITY CHEST had her dogs at the park at the beginning of the hash and almost got torn apart when one dog stopped and the other didn't.
FRBs missed the jello shots...who knows where they went. COCK TENDER and KITTYLINGUS found them I believe and were laying them on the ground as trail marks for those left behind.
The pack somehow went through the shiggy backwards....and still got to the end. I understand our check mark (a circle with a dot in the middle) was mistaken for a tit check - our hash was intended to please harriettes, but I guess it’s OK to let the hounds have a little fun too.
YANKSIT AND SQUEALER I believe were the first in at the halfway, under the pavillions at the Millenium Park on A1A. We had two games set up - both were specifically designed for the harriettes pleasure. We had had enough of banana eating and boob painting and wet t-shirt contests. This one was for the girls! First, we lined up tiny tins of graham cracker crusts, laced with butter shotz, whipped cream and sprinkles on top and explained the rules to the hounds. This was the PIE EATING CONTEST. Speed was not the goal. Technique counted the most and the harriettes would be judging and their would be prizes. We also noted that they should be looking for the G SPOT and that would be a factor in determining the winner. We watched KITTYLINGUS be true to his name - whipped cream from chin to forehead. We watched ASS SQUEALER and YANKSIT do a DOUBLE PIE SLAM. We watched ASS PACKET bite the tin foil on his tiny pie pan (ouch!). JUST PHIL was the slow poke and continued working on his pie long after we huddled the judges. Some did it with a smile. Some had a sour look on their faces. Some licked their fingers. We watched MILLION BUCK FUCK with his KISS tongue working on his whipped cream. (see photos) Others quietly ate their pie and didn’t ask for more. Typical - they like their bananas licked but won’t face the cream. The harriettes had a hard time deciding, in third place was YANKSIT I believe, second place, I can’t remember and first place went to JUST BIKINI BILL! He received the grand prize with some suction, hash-foot, tub thingys, some lube, a rubber and some candy. The rest of the hounds got some candy, a colored pea whistle, some gummy booby’s and some novelty napkins for their second game. We couldn’t have asked for better entertainment.
GAME TWO - BEEFCAKE DECORATING CONTEST
We dug out the frosting, colored gel, sprinkles and little colored craft sticks to spread it with and lined up the hounds again - SHIRTS OFF FOR THE GIRLS AND ON YOUR BACKS FELLAS!! The hounds outnumbered the harriettes considerably, so it took some time and some of the hounds were left unattended for long periods, but we certainly had a good time. Some of us even threw the sticks down and got our hands all into the frosting. We weren’t very artistic (except for SALT LICK TITTY (see photo), but damn it was fun. I also remember CIRCLE BLOW sitting on some lucky hounds face while she painted his belly. Some of the hounds got up and started making harriette sandwiches, spreading frosting everywhere - man did we stink! They also had cum stained knees (little dots of whipped cream that were melting). Nasty little hounds they are. I understand SUCKULATOR couldn't get the pink stuff out of his belly button. Try a Q-tip baby.
Something else I learned from our virgin lay:
If you spend all your time gang banging the hash stud with your frosting, the other hounds in the kennel get neglected - they need luvving too! What happened to our kidnergarten manners? If you didn’t bring enough for everyone, don’t bring it out. Maybe that applies to SQUEALER instead of the harriettes.
HAPPY MEAL and FIRE snapped photos of all the hounds after we were done with them and we voted SALT LICK our master painter, I mean bater. She too earned a grand prize with the blue foot tub thingys, lube, a rubber and some candy. The rest of the harriettes got some gummy penises, candy, a colored pea whistle, and a tiny novelty gift bag.
It was all just too much to handle. We again enlisted the help of the veteran hare, ANUS, to send the pack down the beach. HAPPY MEAL drove down to mark the point where the pack would cum off the beach, while CUMSICLE laid a live trail on the street from the park to the circle. A passer by asked her what she was doing, she answered, and then he wanted to know if what she was throwing was someone’s remains? No, dumb shit - it’s flour.
HAPPY MEAL got snared at a stoplight by WOODY AND YANKSIT while she was autohashing the final segment of the trail.
We finally made it to the circle and were humping the coolers over a small hill to a thicket of weeds on an old paved road and there came those damn FRBs again. Oh well, they are good at humping beer coolers too, so we put them to work.
We did a down down for PUKE’S Dad, who recently passed. We miss you man and your bear hugs are waiting when you return. God bless you brother in your time of grief--we are here for you.
After our moment of reverence, we moved on to hash business - with our religious advisor at the helm.
First on the ice were the HARES of course. I see from the pictures we put a few folks on ice. The RA asked for a trail rating from each hound and there was much positive feedback about the body painting, the fun for the females, the length, the girth ( no wait, that was later) - EXCEPT for COCK TENDER - he said not enough shiggy and began rattling some other nonsense, but we decided he talks too much and cut him off.
We finally named JUST AMY after a double fifth hash (so that would be #7 for her.) We talked about barbed wire, her favorite barnyard animal (baby chicks) and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember and came up with her hash name finally. JUST AMY will be forever known as "PEEPS AT PRICKS" It's about time girlfriend. Now get that husband of yours out hashing too! We grow on people.
HAPPY MEAL got the HUYA for telling JUST BILL he could wear sandals. (that's what she says, but I remember something about getting snared while autohashing). You know that means that ASS PACKET was on ice to pass the HUYA.
JUST BILL or HAPPY MEAL had an unexplained down down in the pictures.....no idea what they were for. ( I think they just wanted to see your ass again). I see both BILLS were on there. What was that all about? When one BILL drinks, all BILLs drink?
I don’t know how we picked up JUST VICK on trail, but I believe that was a hash first. Maybe it was DICK SNIFFA. He had a good sense of humor and seemed to enjoy our songs. Although, ASS SQUEALER was told he should never sing again.
CUMSICLE had to sit in as the stunt cunt for the virgin hasher (stuffed rabbit). Our clever BIKE BITCH yelled out "Call him "PETER GRABBIT". And so it was. Our mascot was born.
We were out of beer, but not before we all had a very good buzz. We loaded up and marched the remaining hashers back to the park ( I think that was the final mile of our trail). ASS PACKET tried to tame the Durango by riding the back bumper of it until HAPPY MEAL slammed on the brakes. CIRCLE BLOW’s last blow jobs flashed before her eyes. Someone else was up there - someone tall, but I don’t remember who. We got naked in the park (as usual) and drove ourselves to the Key West bar.
ON AFTER TIDBITS:
BIKE BITCH broke a glass at Key West trying to make a HAPPY MEAL sandwich. He was also wearing a kilt with some rabbit’s foot thingy’s bobbing in front - which are fun to play with.
Lots of Karaoke at the Pour House. (I’m surprised HAPPY MEAL even remembers going to the Pour House after all those down downs) In the womens' room at the pour house are two toilets, side by side, no stalls.....wierd.
HAPPY MEAL doesn't remember pulling Bill's pants down and dropping her phone. She spent her drive home trying to turn the phone on by mashing a button, which happened to be the speaker button, not the power button.
I think we are ready for anything now - we came up with our back up plan over a beer and a down pour. We had ponchos and towels and extra ice chairs of death in our trunk. After almost one year of hashing, we are finally broken in.
KITTYLINGUS has his virgin lay this cumming weekend with the Space Coast Hashers and if I were a betting woman, I’m thinking you should wear knee highs - to keep from getting scratched up. He does nothing in conservative mode. Until next time, this was hashing 101--may the hash get a piece!
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#102 –Trail From HELL
Oct, 11th 2003
Hares: Just Puke and Dr Anus
Hounds and Harriettes: Wood Liquor, Million Buck Fuck, Cumsicle, Fire, Yanksit, Uncle Pervy, IMM, Just Bill, Eager Beaver, Just Charlene, Ho Deep Ho, Crotchduster, Cockpit, Krusty Kreme, Sperm Aid, Peeps @ Pricks, Happy Meal, Just Bikini Bill, Kittylingus (and his dog Kitty), Ass Packet, Just Gary, Cock Tender, Skybox
Virgin- Just De Bra (Deborah really , accent on bra) (Cock Tender made her cum)
Do they sell Neosporin in 50 gallon vats? I didn’t realize we were doing a blood drive on trail either. Is trail supposed to be marked with KRUSTY KREME'S blood? The word "assholes" comes to mind. I'm speaking of our notoriously shiggy hare duo - PUKE AND ANUS. PUKE was returning to hash with us after over a month ago and DR ANUS was celebrating his birthday early. Funny how these guys derive such pleasure from our pain. I’m thinking they have a special room at their houses with some hooks in the ceiling and a toolbox full of gadgets. DR A had been very vague about his birthday and we are not sure how many he’s had, but Tuesday another notice will come out as that is supposed to be the actual date. Our GM popped in with his 15 yr old daughter to drop some gear off and leave. I understand we also had a brief appearance from WATCHEMWIGGLE at the halfway.
This is going to be easy because I completed my first sober hash and I can read all of my writing and I took plenty of notes. I'm guessing this trail that started at Applebees on Palm Bay road was about 6 miles long with no skimping on wet stuff, things to climb over, wade through, cut your legs on, poke through your clothes, catch your neck and feet on or snap you in the face. We spent most of the first half bent over pushing Saw Palmettos out of the way, even though the HUMAN BULLDOZER, MR PUKE, had already been through it with a machete. I will put a plug in for COCK TENDER'S virgin, JUST DEBORAH at this time. She finished the trail AND said she'd cum again and again. You go girl!
We had lost and disappearing hashers on trail. We didn't see MILLION BUCK FUCK OR IMM again after the start. SEX ON TRAIL PERHAPS? After the halfway BEER NEER, we lost PEEPS AT PRICKS and HO DEEP HO . We thought we lost JUST BIKINI BILL at the halfway, but he was lagging behind saving crying harriettes. I’ll give some more philosophy on crying later when I go through our circle events. We lost JUST GARY (who was in the paper on Sunday by the way - plugging his SINGLESFOCUS.ORG website) and SKYBOX at the canal crossing, which was almost cooter deep. I sold JUST BILL a tank top and a hash mug before the start and it turns out that hunk of plastic may have saved his life. He fell on it (much like the FUCKLEBERRY mug incident) and cracked it from top to bottom. JUST GARY sent an apology for wimping out, but he will be named at his next hash and feel free to bring stories that we can tell to keep him on ice a while longer, or better yet, put him in the running as a HUYA candidate. We got to run on pavement or flat land for only short sprints before we were back in boggy marsh or cracking more palmettos. Most of the trail was marked with pink tape and we had to learn some new markings today - 3 knotted pink tapes meant YBF and 5 knots was a check. JUST MAGGIE (KITTY”s dog) seemed to have no problem with the trail - not even the giant palm tree laying like a balance beam at the top of the pile of trees. It was named the JUNGLE JIM by SPERM AID. She liked it. The sadistic duo also left us about 3 miles from our cars after our 1 hour circle. The circle was actually the best part, because we were so exhausted, we all just sat on everything we could find (coolers, grass, pavement) and ate cheesy poufs, cookies and drank water and beer. We awarded PUKE with a faithful hound tag for completing 50 hashes with BVD. I have no idea how old that thing might be. Our conversation ranged from pussy farts to buying a BVD hash bus - a SHORT BUS - to EAGER BEAVER’s sex bruise, to HEAD on FIRE’s beer, to CROTCHDUSTER’s sweaty balls, to singing as many songs as we had learned on road hashes that we could remember. We went around the circle with trail comments. COCKPIT liked the big dog. Which one? There were pit bulls, labs, rottweillers and mutts in almost every chain link fenced yard. CUMSICLE said there would be no more birthdays for the ANUS. FIRE loved getting wet on trail and she’s a shiggy monster, so that was OK with her too. EAGER BEAVER said the trail “sucked dog”. She could make an Irishman blush with her language. We could not get that woman to stop talking. We put the hares on ice first, as usual AND we only had one chair. Apparently there is still more hash stuff riding around in hash vehicles that hasn’t been returned. ANUS was in the chair so long, he melted an ass print in the ice. We put COCK TENDER on ice for standing in the circle. I think that was just a demonstration ice sitting so his virgin could learn the ropes. We put the FRB’s in the circle, KRUSTY KREME AND YANKSIT, with YANKSIT sitting as the stunt cock. The DFLs were confusing, because even though we watched them all come in, we couldn’t remember how many or who was last. You see, we were entertained by KITTYLINGUS and WOOD LIQUOR. They were running side by side, KITTY being towed by his dog on a leash. As they went to hop over a small embankment right by a shallow water ditch, KITTY gave WOOD LIQUOR a body slam and knocked him right on his back in the water. We kept KITTY in the circle for head gear after he was punished with the group of DFLs. We brought in KRUSTY KREME and SPERM AID for too long between hashes. UNCLE PERVY had a note from his parole officer for his absences, but do you think we cared? Hell no, ass on ice. We gave as many demos as we felt necessary for our virgin and JUST BILL even suggested you might want to SARAN WRAP your ass to keep the Klingons from invading. While we had UNCLE PERVY on ice, we asked him which tests he actually failed when the officer stopped him. He said the one right after “May I see your driver’s license and registration?” He also said he was the stunt cock for CREED, which is the group he had playing on his radio when he was stopped, going A hundred and three miles per hour~! KITTYLINGUS joined UNCLE P in the circle voluntarily and confessed to some stupidity of his own. He took a tree and some bushes out with the right side of his truck after a hash the weekend before. We also compared UNCLE PERVY’s stupidity to JUST PUKE’s (referring to his engagement - don’t be offended WIGGLES - it’s normal bachelor conversation), UNCLE PERVY pointed out that his stupidity would end in a year. We put HAPPY MEAL on ice to pass the HUYA. She added a flip flop to the mass of shit for her infraction (telling JUST BIKNI BILL that it would be OK to wear sandals on a hash). She also gave a circle show by performing moon shots in every direction before being seated. It went over very well with the hounds. And might I add, that her man, JUST BIKINI BILL (I’ll stop using that name as soon as one of our JUST BILL’s gets named so we can tell them apart), carried the HUYA for the WHOLE Trail. I gave him that name for the outfit he wore at the Treasure Coast Red Dress Hash - a flowered red Bikini top, a red wrap long skirt, sandals, no drawers and earrings. Can’t remember if he bought a purse or not - but he was a hit. There were snickers and possibilities for names for him tied into this one. I heard Pussy Whipped and many variations thereof. We’ll see. I think we will attempt to name him on HASHOWEEN. He was asked to get on her lap - another stunt cock. The rules of passing the HUYA are that the current holder decides who will get it next-yet our hounds wanted to make nominations. ASS PACKET wanted KITTY and WOOD LIQUOR for their football antics at the end of the run or PUKE for getting engaged. But the rules prevailed, and the winner is.......chosen by HAPPY MEAL..........................UNCLE PERVY - not for getting a DUI, but for going A hundred and three miles per hour~! Finally we can move on.
We asked our virgin to enter the circle and bring whoever made her cum. JUST DEBORAH was contemplating her moon shot, but was hesitant, so we put COCK TENDER on ice as yet another stunt cock. JUST DEBORAH said she rather enjoyed watching. Possible name information ...Voyeur. Keep that in the name basket. We also got to hear a story from COCKPIT AND CROTCHDUSTER about their Daytona hashing adventure with COCK TENDER and a flaming Dr. Pepper shot. His famous last words were, “You need to pull over..............NOW!” We put EAGER BEAVER and JUST CHARLENE on ice for auto hashing ( and we still couldn’t shut the BEAVER up). I suggested bringing out the cock dildo from the HUYA and executing a PUTA, but that borders on physical abuse and we are not THAT inappropriate. We are respectful of each other’s personal space and rules. WHICH REMINDS ME - about that crying thing - I will use a false name and story to protect any and all whiners. We have very few rules at the hash, but the few rules that we do have, we follow strictly. Let’s just say that ASS SQUEALER (who wasn’t there this weekend) said not to touch his dick ( I can’t imagine him saying that, but work with me here). If you touch his dick, then you could expect him to get upset (laugh, snicker, I can hardly contain the giggling at this analogy). If you knew he would get upset, then there’s no reason for you to cry, I’m sure he still luvs ya (mean it) and you will live to hash another day and everything will be just fine. All better? OK, let’s hash and foget aboud it. Seriously - have a beer or two or three and it will be like it never happened. There will be NO CRYING at the hash - we hash to have a good time.
We did a whistle check and brought in JUST BILL and PUKE and we decided we have to name JUST BILL. We put his ass on ice and began throwing out possibilities. It took us a long time to settle on the one we liked. Because JUST BILL doesn’t drink, we threw YANKSIT a bottle of water and he missed it with his hands and caught it between his knees. He was quite proud of himself, and JUST BILL said, “ it’s OK, I'll take it in my mouth”, which set ASS PACKET off spouting versions of that name - insisting that I TAKE IT IN MY MOUTH was the perfect name for him. DRY SOCKET was thrown out, HANDYMAN was not quite right. HANDYJAM came in too late. I couldn’t hear the one PUKE and a group of hares were trying to put on him. I believe UNCLE PERVY threw out SHOP TEACHER and, like all namings, we knew.........THIS WAS THE ONE!!!.............................. JUST BILL will be forever known as SHOP TEACHER. Great name! What we failed to recognize, was that SHOP TEACHER loved his name too. How often does that happen? That he likes it and we let him keep it?
COCKPIT and CROTCHDUSTER sang several versions of a song they learned at the NC/SC hash - Why Jesus can’t hash- sung to the tune of Glory Glory Hallelujah
- Jesus can’t go hashing cuz:
he walks upon the shaggy
his dad will fix the trail
- Jesus can’t eat M&M’s cuz; they’ll drop right thru the holes
(You actually think I wrote all those down?- )
We did end this one with the final verse
Jesus, I was just kidding
PUKE, KRUSTY, KITTYLINGUS, FIRE, CROTCH AND COCKPIT also did many verses from USED TO WORK IN CHICAGO and don’t quote me, but I think they were making some of that up as they went along.
It was dark. SNIFFA had sniffed us out and we auto hashed back to our cars in the back of KRUSTY’s truck and ANUS’ car and set up an on after at JD’s - home of the very cheap pitcher of beer, but no food. We were allowed to carry food in, so we didn’t get too cranky. I know that there was a JUST BIKINI BILL naming convention going on at the bar. Here are some ideas think we should keep in mind when naming folks, from the book “Hare of the Dog” Copyright 2002, that may help us in our dry spells. (We do cum up with some good ones though).
-Gifted names - which arise from a hash event i.e. Oar a Face for someone who was hit by an oar in the face on her first hash.
- Headliner names - these names report a hash incident. i.e. Burnt Sox from trying to dry his socks in an oven, Slick Slit from demonstrating proof that a harriette shaved.
- Hale-Bopp names from one time hash events that will not be repeated, such as retiring a coffin-sized beer cooler, someone ended up with the hash name “Dahmer”
- Speaking in Tongues refers to the unfortunate utterance made by the hasher in question - very much like I TAKE IT IN MY MOUTH.
- Got a Life names from a non hash related hobby or pastime- Pit stop (car racing fan with a small bladder), Patio Furniture (Irishman who stays out all night)
- Plastic Surgery names for a distinguishing physical characteristic. OOOOOwwwww (a hasher with a stud thru his penis, Heart On for a harriette with a heart tattoo on her groin. I believe SHOP TEACHER just got a plastic surgery name.
- Come at Will names - Like my name - CUMSICLE- with the word come or some variation in it - apparently I have a lot of relatives according to the book.
- The name yo mama gave you - Last name Sheets - thus Staind Sheetz
- Happily Ever After Names - tying two or more people together by matrimony or bloodline. Daughter of Blank Check on her 18th birthday - Legal Tender. HAPPY MEAL and HAPPY SNACKS. SMELLS LIKE FISH, TASTES LIKE FISH.
- Fruit of our Labor - related to wanker job - Pocket Scientist, DR ANUS (if you call full time college a job--OK OK, he teaches too)
- Dirty Ethnic Slurs - this one may be taboo - it says no one returns after getting these names - like a Pakistani who was named 7-11.
Not from the book, but from my day at Epcot passing through Norway - an employee had a nametag with MAGNUS on him - that may come in handy someday. I liked it.
OK, that’s enough entertainment, semi quotations from the book and my add-ins . See you on 25 October for HASH-O-WEEN and my last hash for a few months. The BIKE BITCH, DOLLAR IN IT and DICK SNIFFA promise a fun time and goody bags to the first 25 folks - so you know what that means. Standard Hash Time (SHiT) will be strictly enforced. I believe the hash after that will adjust for daylight savings time and your winter hashes will start at 2:00 pm.
May the hash go in and get a peace/piece.
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#103 - Hash O Ween
Oct, 25th 2003
Hares: Bike Bitch, Dollar In It, Dick Sniffah
Hounds and Harriettes: Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Fireindahole, Yanksit, Golden Shower, Salt Lick Titty, Gilligan, No Blow, Momma (Get Off Me You're Crushing My Cigarettes), Shop Teacher, Wood Liquor, In My Mouth, Million Buck Fuck, Suckulator, Just Jay, PutaCockInIt, Ass Squealer, Cumsicle, Just Debra, Cock Tender, Dr. Anus, Cockpit, Crotchduster, Big Canal, Upchuck Fuck, KittyLingus, Just Bill, Happy Meal, Just Schott, Just Karen, Just Puke
Here’s your trash cumming to you from Texass. And before I say anything more, let me correct who came up with the name SHOP TEACHER - it was CROTCHDUSTER, not UNCLE PERVY. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?? Damn, put your head down for one second, miss who said something, and all of a sudden, people you thought were trashed beyond repair can now remember every fricking detail! No, I haven’t crossed the pond yet—that happens 1 November, but keep the mail cumming because I’ll be watching in between bombings when I’m allowed to have my head somewhere besides between my legs.
It was not your typical Central Florida day at Siggy’s on Malabar road - it was dark and nipply outside - the wind was howling - some of the hares were missing - and the BIKE BITCH’S adrenaline was pumping. His rubber bat wings were almost torn off as he paced from his car to his bar table looking for the DICK SNIFFA Hare. It’s 5:30 and this is way off SHiT. The first 25 folks got HASHOWEEN goody bags full of neat little toys, candy, noisemakers, games and whistles. ASS SQUEALER entertained us with his impression of Jewels from Pulp Fiction and then robbed SHOP TEACHER of his pirate weapons to unload a round of rubber bands into the crowd. And we have the sexiest pirates in the world!!!!!!!!! (YANKSIT, ASS PACKET, SHOP TEACHER, JUST BILL, SUCKULATOR, FIREINDAHOLE and WOOD LIQUOR ! Eye candy is always good when you are killing time. They had some very authentic looking costumes and we took a poll on who might have sex in their costumes later on - several hands went up, including SHOP TEACHER’S hook. The harriettes played KITTYLINGUS’ Ladies Only Twister - cooter on his face (red), right hand on his crotch (yellow), his left hand (blue) on your boob - you get the picture. He was in need of being groped - you gotta hand it to him - it was original. He played with CIRCLE BLOW and completely lost his green circle when she spun left hand cooter. Careful with those thighs girlfriend - you could take someone’s head off with those strong quads. GILLIGAN was teasing him about the costume when KITTY replied, "well ya know, MERLIN didn’t get much poon tang either". There were two Dorothy’s, but only HAPPY MEAL had a TOTO. And TOTO had some fun of his own--sniffing boobs, he was a good boy and a happy boy. So the other DOROTHY (AKA JUST DE-BRA) might have been the wicked witch of the east in disguise - and she was hanging out with a farmer, who was none other than COCK TENDER. Through the process of elimination, I believe JUST JAY was in the BONES costume - remember that if he ever returns - could make for an interesting hash name. I hate it when I have to ask what a costume might be, but hell, I don’t watch GIRLS GONE WILD - COCKPIT was exposed with a censor sign over her boobies and lots of beads around her neck. Her hubby was a pirate hater in search of one ASS PACKET pirate. The SUCKULATOR was pillaging early due to the pain he was in from his woman’s pirate shoes and he wasn’t alone. JUST BILL was lifting skirts with his sword. MOMMA and NO BLOW showed up in matching pimp/ho outfits, complete with the patent leather red boots. He walks way too good in those boots. DOLLAR was looking very VAMPIRA in her black and batwingy costume and SNIFFA, when she finally showed up, was true to form in her bar wench costume. PUTA spent several hours making herself over into the dark angel, complete with feather halo and fishnets. CIRCLE BLOW was looking fine in her can-can costume. SALT LICK also looked edible in her naughty school girl costume, but she brought Sponge Bob (GOLDEN SHOWER) with her, so maybe it was all innocent. BIG CANAL was a princess, UPCHUCK wasn’t in the mood, but finally donned a bat mask. How’s he going to get laid if he doesn’t do the costume thing? JUST PUKE was a bible thumping nomad and DR ANUS was a life-size Trojan condom. JUST SCHOTT came as a hula girl (did I get that right?) and JUST KAREN was his cave bitch - complete with dirt on her face - I love it when you go to such detail to make it authentic. MILLION BUCK FUCK AND IMM were also a matching pair as the bloody doctor and nurse good body. And I was a German bar wench. That should be everyone - now what the heck did we do besides dress up and check everyone with skirts for bare ass, thong or unusual undies that might be worth taking later on?
We hashed!!!! We drank!!!! We took pirate shots and group grope shots. I don’t see the one with NO BLOW looking up my skirt. Who has more pictures? We finally went outside and got our orange flower chalk talk and we took off on trail only 25 steps or so and 3 bottles of shots were waiting for us - Hot Damn! Peach Schnapps and something I decided not to put my lips to (can’t remember - didn’t drink it). We stopped traffic as we crossed Malabar road and took a short trail through the PUBLIX store. We passed a DOPEY dwarf on the bench in front of the strip mall and took photos with him. We went into some very short shiggy behind Walgreens, passed a sign that said something about being thirsty and going back. We thought there were more cocktails awaiting us in the bushes, but didn’t find anything, so we went on-on. We crossed under I -95, "this is not a fat boy pub crawl", but McQues was just on the other side, so anyone who dared keep their stilettos on was still walking upright at this time. We stayed there long enough to: meet a real TOTO sitting at the bar with his owner, make things disappear, drink a whole lot of beer and leave before we were arrested for making things disappear. Strange conversation we have on trail too - CUMSICLE said something about not being able to read with a dick in her face (referring to a microphone with a large sponge cover) and HAPPY MEAL wanted to know why she would be trying to read if she had a dick in her face? She has a point - comprehension would be at an all time low.
ON-ON to the next pub - those of us who live nearby swore there weren’t any bars close, but we forgot about the SHADY OAKS LOUNGE. As soon as we remembered it was there, some of us short cutted, but we had to go back or we’d miss DOLLAR’S haunted corner. She had spider webs and was stirring a cauldron of spaghetti and passing out mini Halloween frisbees. We stayed at the Oaks for a very long time. Long enough to put a hole in ANUS’s rubber, earn some dollars by letting pirates stick them down our bras with their teeth, dance and spin, ask CROTCHDUSTER why he was the FRB today (he said he had to pee bad) - since when would he not just drain it in a corner? He wanted it on the record, that he was "simply appalled at the inappropriate behavior and that he would be in church the next morning, in the front pew at precisely 0800 with his brother, DEACON PUKE." I have a note about CIRCLE and PACKET banging on a barstool, so that may have prompted CROTCH’S comments, but I certainly don’t see anything inappropriate or abnormal about that. JUST SCHOTT and JUST KAREN auto hashed part of the trail - I didn’t see any high heels on these folks. If you are going to be a real hasher…OK never mind, we have cheating, short cutting, auto hashing bastards among us too and we still call them hashers. JUST KAREN showed up with a glow stick under her cave bitch costume and we gave extra points for accessories. "ASS SQUEALER LOOKDED HOT! Hey, that’s not my writing - Jewels wrote on my notes. GILLIGAN managed to snatch CIRCLE’S happy pumpkin Frisbee from her bra. DOLLAR got some dollars for her other crotch (her cleavage). SHOP TEACHER was sniffin pumpkins. SQUEALER tried to play LADIE’S ONLY TWISTER and that caused KITTY to start squealing - apparently he doesn’t go both ways---and there were no dots on his ass –so the only other dot SQUEALER could have played was the red one on his face. Don’t want to see that!!! GILLIGAN commented on scratchy asses versus nice asses. I recall watching HAPPY MEAL carefully lift her scratchy but bare ass to sit on a barstool. I followed her lead and was totally confident that I would not stick to the stool because I was wearing very short shorts. She on the other hand - was ass out and I don’t know how she managed to get off the stool without assistance. No doubt, JUST BILL, the "HUYA and purse carrying boy", was right there to pick her up - I swear, that man will do ANYTHING for that woman. We could make a game out of that. More naming damage. You’ll be naming him without me, so make it good - I want this one to hurt!!!!! When I got off my stool---with no damage---HAPPY MEAL proceeded to try to take my shorts—saying "these have to go", but I put up a fight and kept my drawers on. No undies of mine will go to a woman--I wasn’t about to be part of a lesbian collection. This was the longest beer check in history. DOPEY came back and this was the first time we realized that DOPEY might be a hasher - it was none other than DOLLAR doing the schizophrenic costume change. Very clever girlfriend. You fooled us. This party at the Oaks was resembling an on-after and I’m starting to not be able to read my notes. Not bad, I made it all the way to the circle before my vision was impaired.
Finally, we left the Oaks and were supposed to go the TH-Inker tattoo shop, but we started so late, they were closed and we formed our circle behind the establishment. I know that made the BIKE BITCH very disappointed, so you all be sure and tell him, the next time he co-hares, we can go there. Oops, he says he will be the lone hare from here on out. No way - that’s like masturbating….sex with a partner is always more fun. You just have to choose someone with a much simpler costume, that doesn’t take as much time to put on. Take an alka seltzer, do some yard work, get in the hot tub with Jack (Daniels that is) and it will be all better.
We had ICE in the dark for lots of folks --CROTCH was the FRB, BIG CANAL just got an ass check, KITTY won best costume and SQUEALER was the runner up, out of town hashers were next, some virgin that SUCKY made cum, even though his feet were bleeding, and the DFL’s BIG CANAL AND DICK SNIFFA. Not sure if the cops were chasing us or if we were just getting too drunk or we ran out of beer, but we cut this circle short. I do remember we were totally out of control. I saw a picture of NO BLOW trying to use a tampon as a beer tea bag. What was that all about?
Our real on-after WAS at Siggys and no sooner had we walked in the door, were we approached by two ladies doing a promotion for Smirnoff Vodka who wanted some of us costume wearing folks to sign releases to possibly show up in a national ad. So if JEWELS and I show up in a picture in the middle of your HUSTLER magazine, I will swear it wasn’t me. I’d like to keep my job, so you all help keep my secret. I believe his fro was covering my face anyway, cuz he’s a mushroom cloud laying muthaf*#ka. We lost quite a few folks and I didn’t see Princess BIG CANAL fall down, so it must not have happened.
We stayed at Siggy’s dancing til folks had to go out and sit on the curb. Not sure what that was about either, because I was too busy getting gang banged on Yanksit’s car, which I thoroughly enjoyed. If this is how you say goodbye, I’m leaving more often. So that was my last night of hashing with my mutha hash until probably St Patty’s day. I’m off to be the Queen in the land of sand, scorpions, camels and scary dicks on lots of horny soldiers.
So screw the cookie care packages……………..send batteries!!!!
Just kidding………….no really……..I can just see the look on my face now, when the vibrating package cums from an unknown wanker name on the return address and the bomb squad is called in to inspect and I peek over their shoulder………"Umm, yeah……that’s mine….false alarm and I’ll be leaving work early today."
May the hash get a piece for me……..I’ll miss you turds.
Cum "tumbleweed" Sicle, ON-SEC
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#104 – Cocktender's Virgin Lay
Nov, 8th 2003
Hares: Cocktender (Virgin Hare), Dick Sniffah (On Time)
Hounds and Harriettes: Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Fireindahole, Yanksit, Shop Teacher, Wood Liquor, In My Mouth, Million Buck Fuck, Suckulator, Cockpit, Crotchduster, KittyLingus and Just Maggie, Just Bill, Happy Meal, Ho Deep Ho, and Uncle Pervy
Welcome to Hash Trash #104. It's me, HAPPY MEAL, stunt cunt on-sec for our most missed CUMSICLE who is off fighting the battles of freedom. What a great day for hashing!!! A small group of hounds gathered at Valuthrift on North Banana Road to start this most EXCELLENT!!! trail. (Where were the rest of you wankers, this fine Saturday hashing day??? No matter, you missed a great lay.) Let it be known that SNIFFA was present and accounted for ON TIME and acting as HASH CASH as well...you go girl. Where she was during the circle is another matter entirely...to be addressed later. There was much milling about and some beer consumption and....IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT....much ICE FLASHING by our beloved IN MY MOUTH (sorry boys, looks like IMM is off the market and MILLION BUCK FUCK had a grin from ear to ear....they didn't make it even to the first beer stop, so we're thinking engaged sex must be better than hashing!!!!) What the harriettes on trail want to know....IMM is it really worth a MILLION BUCKS?????
COCK TENDER gave the chalk talk and almost sounded like he had been there before. Then the hares were away and the hounds consumed more beer. WOOD LIQUOR brought a CNN online Health report with the headline: FREQUENT FELLATIO PREVENTS BREAST CANCER! The article did explain that in order to receive the health benefits, you must, in fact, swallow. (This is CNN?) And finally at 2:69 the hounds hit the trail.
The hounds pounded the pavement through a Merritt Island neighborhood for what seemed like 14 miles of pavement pounding trail (did I mention pounding the pavement yet?). The trail wound around and around and around and around boring side streets and the hounds were pounding the pavement (did I already say that?). As far as I could tell, the only good part of the pavement pounding first half was the traffic control signs near the beer stop. I would have made it to the beer stop much sooner, but about every 12 feet was a sign on the road that said HUMP and in between those were street signs that said SPEED HUMP. Since I was only traveling with JUST BILL and SUCKULATOR they were pretty happy (and exhausted) when we got to the sign that said DEAD END! Not sure how the rest of you got to the beer stop so quickly, but I'm thinking you obey all of the traffic signs! When we finally got to the beer stop, we thought YANKSIT or maybe ASS PACKET had been flatulating, but it turned out we were just near a stinky water plant.
Leaving the beer stop the hounds headed directly into the shiggy...HURRAY!!!! The trail was a nicely laid path meandering along the canals (not BIG CANAL) and through some serious alligator territory. We saw some alligator crossings, but nobody got eaten. COCKPIT was DFL at this point and worried that she would be the one eaten because if the gater got a good look at ASS PACKET he would say "hell, I'm not THAT hungry!" I heard KITTYLINGUS was using poor JUST MAGGIE as alligator bait...more on that later. I also witnessed a potential groping on trail when SHOP TEACHER touched COCKPIT's boob....he claims he didn't lay a hand on her. I was complaining about more stink on trail, but then I realized it was because my nose was 6 inches from ASS PACKET's ASS every time he bent down to get under the shiggy. About this time, thank god, we came out of the single file trail and stumbled upon some EXTRA CREDIT. The hares had kindly left us a cooler full of the makings for BLOW JOBS!!!! Hurray!!!! We all did our BJs the traditional way (no hands), but several of the harriettes complained that it was just too big........too big???? Maybe I heard them wrong.
From this point the trail widened and the hounds were off. The FRBs were long gone and the DFLs made their way along the trail sharing stories of hashes past. CIRCLE BLOW had taken the can of whipped cream off into the shiggy with her, not sure what for, but we came upon the remains much later. COCKPIT helped herself to the leavings and on we went. HO DEEP HO was looking chic walking through the woods with her brown leather handbag; somebody buy that woman a fanny pack for Christmas! COCKPIT carried nothing put her waterproof, bomb resistant, all-weather-capable chapstick carrier....this is a woman who knows what is important on trail! The FRBs found a countback the rest of us managed to avoid and the next thing we were looking at was a BEER NEAR right on the waters edge with no place to go but in. There was a couple of logs to get across the deepest part, but you weren't getting any (beer) unless you got wet first. JUST BILL being his chivalrous self stayed in the water to help all the harriettes across and then we were off to the circle. Speaking of chivalry, ASS PACKET was DFL, but CIRCLE BLOW tried to claim it since he was only last because he helped her at the water crossing.
SUCKULATER departed for a surprise birthday party in his honor (surprise?).
After some cheesy pouf munching YANKSIT called the hounds to the circle—in this case, semi-circle. Many tired hounds sat on coolers and a few dared the dirt while we put the hare (hare?) COCK TENDER on ice. Did I say hare?
Hold on while I scroll back up this page.....yep, that's what I thought, there were 2 (two, dos, duo, duet, twins, a pair) hares for this trail. Where did the incredible missing Miss DICK SNIFFA disappear to???? Does anyone know? All I know is that last hash she missed the start, this hash she missed the end, and both hashes she was a hare!!!! This time I think she took all of WOOD LIQUOR's possessions with her. This sounds like HUYA-riffic behavior to me (and believe me I have a stake in this one). Comments from the trail were mostly positive and we had almost made it around the semi-circle with COCK TENDER sporting some very impressive head gear (HEAD? Who said HEAD) in the circle when KITTYLINGUS prematurely ejaculated from the facial orifice and warned COCK TENDER of his impending infraction. Our fine RA handled this abomination admirably by placing KITTYLINGUS on ice to share the down down with our illustrious hare.
We let the hare, COCK TENDER, up from the ice, but decided since KITTY was already sitting we would let him rest there for awhile and have an impromptu NAMING. With some encouragement, JUST MAGGIE hopped into an ice chair and was quickly named GATOR BAIT. I think this makes her GATOR HATER's (TCH3) cousin. She was happy with her name and did a down down with KITTY although most of his beer ended up on her head (head, who said...)....before she jumped down and promptly shared the beer with all as she did a beer shake.
Next we put the FRB--YANKSIT and the DFL--ASS PACKET on ice. No wait, what we did was put YANKSIT on ice and put ASS PACKET on YANKSIT. YANKSIT looked like he was in some serious pain and the ice chair of death was screaming for mercy for a nice long time while the hounds made various announcements and so forth. KITTYLINGUS, freshly off the ice and feeling vindictive thought this would be a great opportunity to tell some really bad jokes.
Next up was the HUYA. UNCLE PERVY went on ice to pass the HUYA, did his obligatory down down, and nominated me (me?) HAPPY MEAL for the HUYA .... AGAIN, citing an accusation that I did not carry the HUYA on trail but had JUST BILL carry it for me. Not to quibble or anything, but does anyone but me remember the shiggy trail from hell????? And anyway, he did a fine stunt c*ck performance and I don't think that is a violation. Not when there were so many other fine nominations.....DICK SNIFFA for, well, that's obvious. MILLION BUCK FUCK for popping the question. And even more that didn't get a chance because a vote was taken prematurely and I got stuck with the HUYA ..... AGAIN and ordered to carry it myself this time (yea, right). I want it noted here that CROTCHDUSTER did not vote for me and is currently my only hasher friend. This was also campaigning time and ASS PACKET made his 'vote for me statement', but nobody will remember that because FIRE lifted her shirt, not once, not twice, but three times in her campaigning for HASH HARLOT. I'm all for it....vote for FIRE!!! for everything!!!! So I got on ice to recieve the HUYA. For those who missed this hash, I should share with you that I wasn't wearing a T-shirt, only a sports bra, so the view was pretty nekkid (FIRE please don't put any pictures that make me look fat on OFOTO!!!) A down down later I was off the ice and.....
UNCLE PERVY got to sit back down. Did I mention that UNCLE PERVY added his traffic citation to the HUYA? UNCLE PERVY got to sit on the ice AGAIN while I read the contents of the citation vvveerrrryyyy sssssllllloowwwwly to the group. I think it is appropriate to share this reading with the entire group at this time....please bear with me:
How to get a DUI by Officer Goodbody as told to UNCLE PERVY: "I observed a vehicle traveling northbound at a high rate of speed. I activated radar and a speed of 96 MPH was obtained on the vehicle. The vehicle sped up to 103 MPH as it approached me (how the fu*k dumb is that?). I activated my emergency blue lights as he approached me and he continued at a high rate of speed (how the fu*k dumb is that?). I caught the vehicle and it pulled over. I made contacted with the defendant also the driver of the vehicle (how many people were in there?). I had the defendant step out of his vehicle. The defendant did so slowly (hashers had to demonstrate this action several times while UNCLE PERVY sat) and it appeared he almost fell out of his vehicle. I then could smell a strong, distinct odor of an alcoholic beverage cumming from his facial area. I offered the defendant several field sobriety tests and he did poorly on all of them almost falling down on several occasions. Defendant stated he had nothing to drink "Ossifer, I ain't drunk nuttin". The defendant stated that nobody can do those exercises and he couldn't even if he was sober (how the fu*k dumb is that?). ......It appeared as if the defendant had spilled some type of alcoholic beverage all over his shorts and he had a large wet stain on his shorts. The defendant was rude and discourteous through out the investigation."
And with UNCLE PERVY off the ice it was time for another NAMING! Although nobody really knows how many hashes he has done, JUST BILL took a seat and SHOP TEACHER started us off with a poem. I'm sure you know it, "I see London, I see France, go put on some fu*king pants". It was a long naming with many of the traditional naming questions being asked. The hashers threw some great ideas around, but JUST BILL sentenced himself by reacting with a shocked and horrified face to something someone said (not sure I totally remember who said it...I am conveniently hazy on the details here). Therefore, let it be known that from this day forth JUST BILL will be called LITTLE FIN. And with a rousing version of swing low with our SONG MEISTER Candidates, COCKPIT and her cousin COCK TENDER, competing publicly, the circle was ended and we were ON-OUT to the ON AFTER at Wacky Wings.
It was a quiet ON AFTER with very little inappropriate behavior. The small group that remained sat quietly and it appeared to be a very normal gathering unless you got close enough to actually hear the conversations. It seems that female ejaculation can cause a man's foot to get wet (thanks for that input COCK TENDER) and, now my handwriting is getting pretty hard to read, because it seems to say 'CP betwalltn fexch studnts in hercrol' which I seem to remember meant something like Cockpit blew all the Foreign exchange students in her school, but I could be wrong. A few hardy Harriers and Harriettes headed ON OUT to the Pour House to hear some really bad singing and a few songs by FIRE. And so ended BVD Hash #104.
May the hash get a piece.
Stunt C*nt On Sec
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#105 - HASHGIVING!!!
Nov, 20th 2003
Hares: Ass Packet, Dr. Anus
Hounds: Circle Blow, Fireindahole, Yanksit, In My Mouth, Million Buck Fuck, KittyLingus and Gaterbait, Happy Meal, Eager Beaver, Dick Sniffah, CockTender, Just Deborah, Bike Bitch, Just Charlene
Visitors: Captain Cock (Ass Packet's brother)
Virgins: None....NONE? .....none. nada. zip. nil. zero. void. null. nyet. nien.
Drop by's: Big Canal, Upchuck Fuck, Ass Squealer
Call in's: Sir Flatulot (probably Just Puke, Wiggles, and Salad Shooter too, but I missed that part)
Excused absences: Cumsicle (Sweating her ass off in the desert), Little Fin (Freezing his ass off in Alaska), Cockpit and Crotchduster (Partying their asses off in Nipples), Just Puke and Wiggles (Visiting their asses off in VA)
Expected absences: Dr. Without Socks and IFH
Conspicuously absent: Shop Teacher, Wood Liquor, Suckulator, Ho Deep Ho, Uncle Pervy, Dollar in it, and Stumbelina (girl its been so long, you might need to move up to expected absences!)
Welcome to Hash Trash #105---HASHGIVING!!! HAPPY MEAL here again, stunt cunt on-sec for CUMSICLE, off building sandcastles for her country. Another great day for hashing!!!
CLUB'S FLOUR SPREADS FEAR!!!! So reads the headline of the article in Florida Today documenting our annual Hashgiving celebration. The powdery white substance that set off an emergency and caused an area of a shopping center to be closed off was nothing but a little baking flour thrown down by our 'event organizers' DR ANUS and ASS PACKET...(funny, nobody called the cops when it was CUMSICLE throwing flour around). Nobody was quoted except the spokesperson for the police who said "when you mark a trail, use rice." and no charges were filed, so let's see if we can get to the real story here.
The hounds gathered at JD's in beautiful Palm Bay Florida. They came bearing food and fine plasicwares for this anal celebration. BIKE BITCH was HASH CASH so none of the hounds could actually avoid seeing the prominently displayed picture of his naked backside as he got a FANNY BEER(R) tattoo on his ass. But being the kind of guy he is, he made sure to bring enough for everyone, so by the end many hounds were sporting their very own FB tats in conspicuous and not so conspicuous places. DICK SNIFFAH showed up all drugged up, but unlike Mr. BITCH she did not bring enough for everyone. DR ANUS did the chalk talk and explained a few of the more unusual hash markings on trail. For the uninitiated: RK means Road Kill. JM was for extra credit and not explained at the chalk talk (more later). There was a lengthy discussion about BIKE BITCH'S pussy preferences and we discovered why he needs to have 3 pussies at home. It is all about the grooming. He may want to consider renaming them Shag, Berber, and Linoleum.
The Hounds were off promptly at 2:69 SHT. The first half of the trail included some pretty heavy shiggy (thank you DR A) and repetitive Count Backs! There were even countbacks from countbacks in the middle of countbacks and countbacks in the Shiggy! At several points CIRCLE BLOW was the FRB! I'm not sure if running down the trail waving your arms in the air singing "I'm in front of YANKSIT" counts as competitive behavior or not, but we didn't make any accusations against her, so I guess she got away with it this time. IN MY MOUTH and MILLION BUCK FUCK did the entire trail wrapped around each other like Siamese twins, holding hands and arms around each other--even while r*nning!!!! And although this shiggy was nothing like the Shiggy Trail from Hell a few hashes back, by the time we got to the BEER NEAR there was much blood on trail. I think YANKSIT had the bloodiest wound with the red stuff running down his leg from a cut on the shin, but HAPPY MEAL'S gash was a close second running all the way up the back of my thigh. Many hounds stopped to admire HAPPY MEAL'S gash and kiss it and put ice on it (Many thanks :-)). After a few well deserved beers, the hounds were off again, minus EAGER BEAVER and JUST CHARLENE. Miss BEAVER isn't too fond of Shiggy, but she should have stuck around because the second half of the trail was much easier.
As we came out of the beer near and exited the shiggy we found some real hounds having sex on trail....lucky dogs :-). The trail took us through a nice Palm Bay neighborhood and we finally came upon the JM trail marking that was left unexplained at chalk talk. The JM pointed to JUST MARIA's house and we tried to get some extra credit there, but she wasn't home and her very large, male roommate was not letting us in the door, so ON OUT we went. We found a little pussy on trail; BIKE BITCH got to pet it (you'd think he'd get enough of that at home). And then we found the RK trail marking. It wasn't clear at first what the RK was referring to as some big ugly vultures had pulled this particularly nasty pussy off the trail. We crossed some sort of grassy field or something (who can remember the details) and ended up behind a grocery store. At this point the DFL's, HAPPY MEAL, JUST DEBORAH, and DICK SNIFFAH were far behind the pack. We found a shopping cart and gave SNIFFAH a ride, running through Palm Bay trying not to attract attention and/or get arrested. We successfully did this, found yet ANOTHER countback (see how far behind we were) and finally ended up at DR. ANUS'S House of Porn for the circle.
Lots of cold butts today. First the Hares took to the ice for the trail critique. The hounds liked the trail, so the Hares didn't have to sit too long. Then a quick down down song and DR. ANUS was excused from the ice. ASS PACKET remained sitting and was joined by his brother CAPTAIN COCK for a down down. The FRB (YANKSIT) and DFL (SNIFFAH) jumped onto the ice like it was something they were looking forward to. Then came time to pass the HUYA....HUYA? Where is the HUYA? Seems the HUYA didn't get carried on trail....AGAIN! So HAPPY MEAL took the chair for a punishment down down and will keep the HUYA for another day. BIKE BITCH sat on the ice for a lost property charge involving a beautiful monogrammed red jacket found at an AWAY hash. We had phone in songmeister (SIR FLATULOT) lead us in song while IN MY MOUTH and MILLION BUCK FUCK sat on the ice to celebrate their recent engagement. UPCHUCK FUCK sat for some reason probably having to do with being dumb enough to move to OHIO in the winter, while BIG CANAL watched from the sidelines claiming a sore throat (we know what helps sore throats, don't we???). UPCHUCK was assisted by ASS PACKET (How do those chairs take the pressure??). And KITTYLINGUS also sat on the ice for some reason I can't recall right now....but I definitely recall that KITTY and UPCHUCK have the two hairiest asses I've ever seen (there is a picture, but it isn't for the faint of heart). Somebody introduce those two to waxing! Just to keep the record straight, I want it noted that JUST DEBORAH has now hashed at least 3 times with BVD and has not YET sat on the ice....the closest she got was sitting on COCK TENDER sitting on the ice for her virgin r*n. Surely her naming won't be her first time in the dreaded ice chairs of death!!! The circle was closed without the usual swing low (unless I missed it somehow) and the group moved inside to enjoy a veritable feast.
There was turkey and pasta salad (yummy, FIRE), bread, desserts, and of course CHEESY POUFs. All filled their plate and sat for a traditional Hashgiving meal watching PORN (They don't call it the House of Porn for nothing) and listening to football. (He got it right between the uprights this time, Joe!) I saw no campaigning on trail this time; didn't get to see FIRE's tits even once all day, but ASS SQUEALER, also up for Hash Harlot, popped in for some porn viewing and was ON OUT before I knew it.
The rest were ON OUT to Tapp's later on and engaged in a drinking game called 7-14-21. Due to the nature of this game, I have to end the story here as the rest of my hazy memory makes no sense even to me.
May the hash get a piece.
Stunt Cunt On Sec
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#107 - Jingle Balls
Dec, 20th 2003
Hares: Fire and Yanksit
Hounds: Ass Packet, Circle Blow, Fireindahole, Yanksit, In My Mouth, Million Buck Fuck, KittyLingus, Happy Meal, Ho Deep Ho, Dick Sniffah, CockTender, Just Deborah, Bike Bitch, Ass Squealer, Little Fin, Just Puke, Shop Teacher, Wood Liquor, Sucklulator, Dr. Anus, Uncle Pervy, and Stumbelina
Back from the long lost beyond: Short Straw (or an imposter)
Virgins: Just Betsy and Just Jerry
Call in's: Cumsicle
Call Out's: Sir Flatulot and Salad Shooter's voice mail
Expected absences: Dr. Without Socks and IFH (lost but not forgotten, well, except by Ass Packet)
Merry Hashmas to me, Merry Hashmas....no wait, that isn't it. We wish you a Merry Hashmas, we wish you a Merry Hashmas, We wish you a Merry Hashmas, and a Happy New Year.....ok, help me out new song meister....you must know one better than that! Congratulations, to Miss COCKPIT, our new song meister....you were missed at Jingle Balls, but wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.
Welcome to Hash Trash #107---Jingle Balls!!! It was a cold cold day for hashing, but fitting for the season!!!! The hounds, dressed in outrageous Hashmas garb accented with winter accessories--hat's, mittens, long john's, long coats, ear muffs--gathered at Ocean's Landing Resort in Sunny, Warm Cocoa Beach Florida at 2pm SHT.
The party was already in full swing when this harriette showed up, so there were kisses and hugs all around.....now I remember why I always show up late. The hounds were filling beers, munching on spinach dip and checking out the harriettes sexiful santa suits while the football game was on TV....hey this is starting out good! I'm checking out the crowd and taking in the Hashmas finery myself when I notice this scruffy, hippy, living-under-cocoa-beach-pier, type hanging around drinking beer. And I'm thinking.....hmmmm, do we have a party crasher???? But me, being the quiet demure harriette that I am, say nothing (more on this later).
Before we go on with the trail, we must have a factual accounting of the garb of the hounds, recorded for posterior.... Of course we have to start with FIRE and her traditional very sexy Santa teddy, she was joined by IN MY MOUTH, JUST DEBORAH, and STUMBLINA all sporting red velour and white feathers....mmm, very sexy. But I have to conclude that none of these fine Harriette's gets the prize for the sexiest hound on this trail. Mr BIKE BITCH was sporting a tux, tails, and top hat that was so hot even ASS PACKET said he would do him (if he was a girl and drunk). KITTYLINGUS was wearing his newly made PIECE ON EARTH shirt and having it autographed by all. DR. ANUS, hungover and barely present, signed the bottom with a down pointing arrow "Dr. Anus was here"....not sure if he knew whose ass he was claiming to have visited!!! We had a couple of elves with HUGE ears--KITTYLINGUS and WOODLIQUOR--you know what they say about hounds with big ears??? YANKSIT in a hat that went both ways...3 ways?? Anyway, you get the picture. And HAPPY MEAL AND LITTLE FIN in elf attire. SUCKULATOR was in my pants and I was upset to hear he got a free hat for his trouble. COCKTENDER had mistletoe on his head (head, who said head)....but I'm of the opinion he would have had better luck if he had placed it lower. Everyone else was wearing clothes....sad, but true. Anyway, enough about the attire, let's get on with this.
The party was getting a little quiet so HAPPY MEAL and LITTLE FIN passed out Christmas cards. The hounds were appalled, all except SHOP TEACHER anyway, who said he would have used the card to masterbate if he could have held the card and himself at the same time. Mr. FIN hung his head (both of them) in shame as the christmas photo of him wearing the same outfit as IN MY MOUTH, STUMBELINA, AND JUST DEBORAH was opened around the room. Then it was time for a song. HURRAY! Of course we couldn't leave out the song meister, so JUST PUKE used technology to share this wonderful, traditional Hashmas carol with SIR FLATULOT, the outgoing songmeister. It was loud and it was bad, but the basics were this:
First day of Christmas: A hand job that wasn't worth a f*ck--on on on
2 Shit house doors
3 French whores
4 calling girls
5 blow jobs
7 sucking sisters
8 aching assholes
9 gnawed off nipples
10 torn off titties (now I'm getting worried)
11 leaping lesbians
12 twats a twitching
Sadly, this is the last Hashmas carole I remember being sung....where is our damn song meister when you need her?????
FINALLY, it was time for the hash!!! The hounds overfilled the elevator shouting holiday greetings to all in hearing distance and were out the door for Chalk Talk. YANKSIT attempted to do a chalk talk, but it was futile and unnecessary since at that point there were no virgins amongst us. I think he put one chalk mark on the ground, said ya'll know what this is?, the hounds gathered for a group grope, and the hares were off. Now, let's get back to this party crasher I mentioned earlier. I notice that he is still hanging with the group.....is sporting California type sunglasses and I think..."hey, that looks just like SHORT STRAW!" So I wander over to check it out. Give him a hug and sure enough, he CLAIMS to be SHORT STRAW returned for good from San Diego(stay tuned).
And then the hounds are off. STUMBELINA takes off as FRB for about 5 steps before her VERY SEXY, FUCK ME RIGHT NOW heels slow her down and she ends up as DFL by step 10. We walk and walk and walk and walk and eventually (ok, my memory may be a little off here already) end up at Rum Runners. Many, many pitchers of beer were flowing at Rum Runners. I saw COCKTENDER reposition his mistletoe and JUST DEBORAH take advantage of it. I know FIRE and I ran off many men with our inappropriate conversation......then we were off again.
It was miles of treacherous trail that brought us around the corner to the Pig and Whistle and HURRAY it was time for erections. That is my favorite part of every day...uh, I mean year. Thank god in the freezing cold there was no ice!!! And CUMSICLE, you bitch, you owe me so many down down's when you get back you will be drunk for a year!
Erection results were:
GM- Bike Bitch 321-254-5591 :-)
RA - Yanksit
Hash Cash/Haberdasher- Circle Blow
Beermeister - Wood Liquor
Webmeister - Ass Packet
Hare Raiser - Kitty Lingus
Hash Flash - Happy Meal
On Sec - Cumsicle (Happy Meal standing in)
Songmeister - Cockpit
Hash Harlot - Fireindahole
Hash Horn – Yanksit
Everyone did the appropriate down-downs with only the harlots (past and future) CIRCLE BLOW AND FIREINDAHOLE acting inappropriately---but I guess that would be appropriate behavior too, huh. HAPPY MEAL stunt cunted for CUMSICLE and passed out some EXCELLENT gifts from CUMSICLE to the hashers. Desert Camo colored hash name tags. And all rejoiced. ASS SQUEALER finally found us and joined in just in time to see if he won the HASH HARLOT position (sadly, no). And then with perfect timing right after HAPPY MEAL finished her second down down in 5 minutes (this is pre-excusing how little trash there will be for the rest of the trail) YANKSIT'S phone rang and we will excuse his technology on trail becuz it was CUMSICLE!!!! We passed around the phone and everyone got to share some phone sex with SICLE. Then we finished the erections, decided it was too cold outside and moved inside for a NAMING!
JUST DEBORAH took to the chair, no ice, lucky girl for a naming. It was a long and hard (oooo, I like that) process with many questions. We now know that the former JUST DEBORAH is a screamer, who didn't know that spitting was an option, and would rather rectum than killem. Sounds like COCKTENDER is a lucky boy too. Lots of good ideas from the hounds and henceforth JUST DEBORAH shall be known to all near and far (even with the TV on from 3 rooms away) as JUST SWALLOWS. Congratulations JUST SWALLOWS!
About this point the down downs start catching up with me, so don't expect much! We left the Pig and Whistle and went someplace where there was a dog. I thought we went to the cottage place, but I've been told by hardly reliable (and drunk) sources that we went someplace in a hotel or at least we walked through corridors like a hotel and turned left into a bar. Weirdly enough, no body I have asked remembers the name of the 3rd bar! Maybe I should ask someone who wasn't drinking....uhhh....yea, right. (SNIFFAH, SHOP TEACHER??? little help. I started investigating the questionable identity of the alleged SHORT STRAW. I was pretty sure it was him until I applied the kiss test.....now I'm thinking it may be an imposter. And then we were ON OUT back to the hotel.
Someplace along the way....maybe in the mysterious 3rd bar, we were joined by JUST BETSY AND JUST TERRY. Welcum to them. At the hotel there were keg stands. This is were very drunk people hold a very drunk person upside on a balcony 3 stories high looking over a concrete parking lot over a keg while they drink from the tap. Fortunately, other than a very serious fingernail injury (FIRE) nobody got hurt. And there was more investigating of SHORT STRAW's persona....the jury is still out. I know its been awhile, but that wasn't a SHORT STRAW kiss any single one of the 10 or 15 times I tried it.
AND, well, either I left or have forgotten anything that followed....so MERRY HASHMAS TO ALL AND TO ALL A GOOD LAY.
May the hash get a piece.
HAPPY MEAL, Stunt C*nt On Sec
"If You Have Half A Mind To Hash, That's All You Need!"