Hash Trash #1123 or so – The Incredibly Bhare Boner

ow WTF was THAT?!
This is what you get when you combine lack of organizational skills, with the kind of attitude you have to stick your hand way deep into a rock crevice to see what you might find. Ah, Hashing. 
Twas a beautiful day for the beleaguered and hung over Boner, the Indian in the band Running Bare, and The Incredble Unfuckingbelievable CoconutCockStrap Wearing Schmeg, to Co-Hare a well known suburb.  
Though this seems unlikely, apparently they over-planned the operation. Well at least on paper. Schmeg had maps and hints and all kinds of other handy aids, and RB had a tricky Eagle Split all thought out in his head, and Boner had a Hangover And Couldn’t Move. Too bad those things don’t combine for an actual Trail, but I digress. We aren’t the Slacker Hash for nothing.
First of all it was impossible to find the place. I know because joining the 3 dozen or so of us already there was Just Lost Kim who stormed in with her impeccably coordinated outfit and Brand New Shoes which she got enroute after forgetting hers at home, and assailed everyone within shouting distance about her GPS trials.  We knew that deep down this cry for help was a yearning to be violated. Meanwhile other Wankers crowded into Boners living room where everybody swigged shots of an OJ concoction (note: noted "not strong enough" by Mudflaps, who probably drank a half dozen. OK maybe that was me.) All kinds of ridiculous people were there. Man that Beltsville is a Hotbed for Hashing. Green Velvet showed up in some dinky pinky spotted booty garters outfit… Wooly Mammaries dropped in along his cross country nirvana road trip (mid life crisis; except as usual he’s late)…  Boyscout Couff, who put his skilz to use making us Fire at the on after… That Nice Family who bring the tiny kid along, and she pushes him straight through the bushwhack shiggy in that cross country stroller; don’t say No to that lady if she tells you Yes. Heck i think there was 5 of them this time. Sour Snatch or something and her bald headed mate – sorry bad with names and faces, and two mobile urchins and one diaper urchin. … SaskatchaSnatch… Philly hasher… Buncha pudjammers…. NoChild Left Behind… Hosehead… Fast running striped-sock Girl… Every Day is Wednesdayers. Over the Humpers… A wide cross section of area Hashers. Considering that it was Labor Day weekend, there were an awful lot of people that decided to come hashing instead of doing something sensible. Not to be outdone, Our Very Special Guest Hash Cash for the day was also our actual Hash Cash Duo, EZ Lipps and Saintly Suds, who always have something better to do than Hash with us, but everytime cut it short and show up anyway. Losers.
Eventually the Mob realized we were all packed into Boner’s living reason for no apparent reason, and spilling out onto the sidewalk, coalesced into a circle called by our RA Bobbin,  who welcomed virgin Coast Guardy Just Mike. One of  our hosts for the day, our very Hare Razor Hisself, Pro Boner finally got out of bed and took off to do some Haring after delivering the most lucid chalk talk I have ever experienced.
However he left out a few details such as there were three of them live Haring right now but no one knew where any of the others were laying trail. The method was for them to use Mapquest street maps someone printed, like an hour ago, and hope the trails intersected somewhere in the featureless white spaces between the roads depicted on the maps. Our trusty RA Bobbin pretended to keep time after Boner departed, then led us the opposite way that Boner went. Everyone followed. Some marks were found. Much initial splitting of the Pack.
After a meandering suburb trail and betwixt- apartments shiggy, we enjoyed a frequently and boldy promised shot check. Oh well SOME of us got to. The main pack gulped it down (Mudflaps) and Fey was left to carry the mess away, never to be seen again until she DFLd in for Circle. This shot check was in the common space of some apartment denizens, walking their dogs that all growled suspiciously at the filthy people swigging shots of liquor in their backyard.  It occurred here because the Pack led by newcomer Just Looks Alot Like Kendra from Girls Next Door, and her by comparison bland looking Wanker Boyfriend, saw and caught one of the Hares, Schmeg.
So here is when it begins to get sketchy. Oh and you thought it was ALREADY sketchy. yah. 
Schmeg asks who wants to be Walker Hare and brandishes a map. Now I don’t know about you, but i don’t usually get recruited to Hare, in the middle of a trail I am already on.  Besides, who in their right mind would do such a thing? That would be Muffalotta. Man is SHE easily  persuadable. Off she goes. Schmeg points to where the beercheck is on the map and then advises against trying to find it. Wankers mill around trying to figure out where Schmeg ran off to, even though he was Right Here a minute ago. Everybody is lost again. Cross the BW Parkway seems like a good idea. People ran around. Standard Deviant found a nice big Police Line Do Not Cross tape and fashioned a 15 ft long headband.  Subtle. Walkers took various routes. One was back to Boners house, where there were maps to the on after. Some attempted to follow Muffs new trail. Some lay down and curl into the fetal position.
But as usual, every last Wanker no matter how simpleminded or how lost, ended up at the right spot. 
Amelia Airhead auto hashed, recently out of the hospital for a back injury sustained during rough sex.  Amazon and her family came by. She’s trading in men for dogs with bizarre underbites. Queerly Im Straight brought Queen Becky, who spends her time hiking the AT when not doing custom paint jobs for hot rods or peoples faces at Ren faires. Others. Wankers amused themsleves in Schmegs backyard and house for hours while the pack found its way in. Looked in all his closets. Scary. Boner made multiple logistics runs trying to save us from ourselves and be nice to people. Finally all in.
B4B called the circle to order while folks partook of hotdogs and burgers and orange food and meatless alternatives. He got  down to the business at hand and summoned the Guilty Hares- Boner, RB, Schmeg, and the hapless Muffalotta, except that Boner was still busy making log runs. Fey stood in as his Stunt Liver.  Left over Natty Bo 40’s from the Campout used as Down Down beer. People got violated. No one threw up in the pool. No one caught on fire. No one lost an eye or a limb. Success.
See you at the next one.
On On
Doin It ChickenStyle