Hash Trash #1078

Hares:  Any Cock’ll Do Me, Snotback Mount’em, Film@11 

Three hares… three virgins…three times the fun!  Or perhaps three times the chance for disaster.  Whatever the case may be, the 30 or so wankers placed themselves in our capable (culpable?) hands for the Rappin’ Chicken Hash.  The usual crowd, accompanied by a visitor from afar and three virgins (one for each hare??) gathered in beautiful downtown Bowie.  How could we go wrong when there was a keg at the start (props to Pony Boy and Three Trick)?  Let that be a lesson to any that declined to imbibe before trail – NO ALCOHOL FOR YOU! 

The pack, clearly juiced on steroids and energy drinks, blazed through the trail so fast they managed to beat us to the first shot check!  The beer had barely arrived at the beer check when the thirsty, angry mob began making their way out of the woods.  They decimated the first case in record time.  Somewhat appeased yet not satiated, the mob moved on.  I’m just back to the start when what did appear?  FRBs in the parking lot, looking for beer!!  Peter Puller, Amelia Airhead, Bobbin’ 4 Buttplugs, et al … these overachievers had blown through both shot checks and the beer stop!  Most of the remaining pack was successful in rounding up AC Do Me at the second shot check before pushing on to the end.  Naturally, kind and loving words of support and encouragement were offered to the hares as the wankers arrived to the finish. 

We retreated to a more secluded venue to circle up.  Mother Chalker adorned the hares with lovely, long grey locks of pubic hair.  Our happy virgins (Just Jenny, Just Julie, and Just Pat) were welcomed to the world of hashing.  How gracious of Just Dave to make them all cum in the same day!  Our visitor from Nepal, Grand Mattress, told us we were a collection of Royal Fuck Ups.  Clearly, she will be selecting BAH3 as her new home hash.   

Walk My Bitch received a safety violation for rappelling down the garden hose which savagely ripped the flesh from his hands.  He claims to have been answering a call for help from the rare Eastern Norwegian Flying Squirrel; miraculously, no other hashers have corroborated his story.  Just Dave too took a safety violation in lieu of one of his virgins who tripped and fell in chest deep water.  Racism violations abound and the over achievers were punished for “skipping” the shot and beer checks.  Peter Puller was awarded the FRB brick.  Again.  We really need to get this guy a cinder block. 

Blah, blah, blah… we finished the keg and all the yummy food Three Trick shared with us.  Circle adjourned to the OnAfter at Glory Hole…er, Glory Days where the evening went from wild to down right insane.  Livers may never be the same but hopefully they will be repaired enough by next Sunday to start all over again. 

OnOn,
Film@11

 


Who would have thought sliding down a garden hose 30 feet or so could rip your hands so much? well certainly not Walk My Bitch, or Snotback Mountem, the only other person dumb enough to do it. tsk tsk tsk. its that testosterone, ladies.
WMB's palms are heavily bandaged. he wont be having a wank any time soon. He couldn't even grip a beer last night at the mismanagement meeting– he had to hold it by pushing the backs of his hands against the glass!  
did you just try to see how you would pick up a glass that way? idiot.
 
But i digress. 
 
I thought the first shot check was quite tasty, thank you. i had three. yummy! Some green sweet stuff. Sorry you were all too stupid to find it.
 
Of course, I am referring to when I ran the trail two days after the Hash, retrieving toilet paper marks, the lonely shotcheck stuff sitting in the middle of that abandoned sand pit place, where, after waiting an hour for a pack that had gone through before he ever even got there, Snotback abandoned it too and ran like the wind to try and make the second shot check before the mob. which he barely did, risking a beating by beseeching them to please return and drink his concoction. The Mob, being as stupid as it is, did. Hashers have unbelievably low entertainment standards.
By the time the mob arrived back at the seedy strip mall, they were highly pleased with the precision logistics planning of the Hares. Two of dems were taken downtown with these hip urban raps:
 
Its Filmat11 of the BAH3
always doin something you want to see on TV.
She takes off her clothes playin Tippy Cup;
all the Hares hopin she ends up
in the back of they Impala or their PickemUp Truck.
 
and its Snotback Mountem of the BAH3,
whose daddy is a goofass you can take it from me;
the boy bend his females over but's allergic to sex;
sneezes when he shoots it; he use they backs as Kleenex
 
That little chicken-f##ker AnyCockll Do Me was let off easy despite just scouting the trail and at the last minute throwing the whole thing at the other unsuspecting hares, arriving at about the time the Mob got back.
 
On On
Chicken S