Hash Trash #955

Hash House Harriers

From the land of pleasant shiggy

TRASH: Run #955
July 30, 2006
Hares: Electric Muff Chuckler

Anally Trashing the BAH3 Hash Trash #955

Ahhhh… Balmer… at 100 degrees. Apparently the recent spate of freebie hashes has made the pack fat and lazy and the pack was small for the weekly Sunday hash. Fortunately, there were some stalwart fans of violating the virgin hare, Electric Muff Chuckler (EMC or Muffy or Sparky). Despite the oldbies offers of co-hare, the poor bastard was left on his own. Fortunately he was young and dumb and went ahead and conquered Gwynn's Falls (who's Gwynn? And why is she so wet?) on his own. Channeling the infamous ECDC, he began with a set of totally fucked up directions… only those dumb enough to mistranslate his gibberish managed to make it to the start. Nevertheless, after a brief intro circle (how the hell does Johnnie know EVERYBODY?) the pack was off. And then they stopped. Why? Well… there was a check. STFUQYI went left… Felch went right. Felch was on…. Or was he…? After 6 dollops – the trail died. We hunted high and lo and then high again (being high is better, no?). But alas, no trail. Hot Under Cover went bushwacking, surprisingly w/o Just Patricia (apparently not a fan of the bush). Still nada. Could the virgin hare be so dumb as to forget to lay a false? He WAS channeling ECDC, so we double checked STJFUYI's side of the check. And found a big ole F for false… with flour 50 feet beyond it… ah, the youngin's. It was somewhere's around here that HSTFUYI found his own special trail. Something abou a pink elephant leading the way southward. Sourcrotch, noting the manliness of DSTFYUIDIUYGHJ followed along. Oh you innocent little harriette. Don't you know what STFIOFUIUYDS does out there with women?

Cyber Spunk magically appeared out of nowhere, surprising the FRBs. Apparently, some where on the trail is a prime nexus of Starbuck's WiFi hotspots, and you can get some really hot free `net access out there. Away we ran, Spunky reluctantly closing his crunchy laptop. But we hit a wall of prickly prickles. Mini and microbrew went into transformer mode, and their stroller became Gigantus Dictus, master of Hashatron. Throwing brambles aside and cracking logs with his LagerBlaster, it was truly more than meets the I. Onward! To the beer check… which was conveniently located at the park police station. Nice going muffy. Dumbass. An hour later, after scraping together enough money to bail Muffy's ass out (actually, it was 2 bucks in change and 4 nice breasts – thanks Morally and Velvet!) we stumbled back home to our lovely A. Despite the proximity of a perfectly good wine tasting in the park, we opted to slug down some tasty canned Yuengling. The noticeable mis-presence of MM (other than those lame jokers Felch and Velvet) required some quick thinking. GNOAH3 offered to be Velvet's hair raiser. JohnnieC said he should be Grandmasterbater, what with the cane and all for beating us all off with. Gnome Gnuts said he'd be the BeerCracker… whatever that means. Fun for dipping? Some Whiney bitch offered to steal all our money and shove it up his Vaginia. Okey dokey. So we had enough dicks n' tits in the fire to have circle. Trail was shitty (obviously). No virgins… no visitors… Velvet whipped up on the backsliding backsliders, namely Triscut Gnuts or Ritzy Gnuts or Wheat Thin Gnuts and his evil twin, German Engineered Perfect VW. Something about Felch giving free blow jobs (Hey, RA don't pay). Autowankage by VV, JC, and GAnoah (somehow all 3 were in the backseat… who the fuck was driving?). Some other lameness…. When outta the blue Just Patricia yells out "I like dick here and here and here!" Um… OK… we'll fucking name you you verbose wankette. Anything to shut you up. You talk too much. Speaking of blue… she makes Viagra… so I hope to see all the oldtimers out next hash. And no, we didn't name her Little Blue Pill or Blue Pill Special. She likes horse sized things… And apparently is waaay too smart to be hashing ,what with her knowledge of Stopcocks and Wavelets. Now one of them thar "Heres" was the ole pooper shoot. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm… Doggie Tile (a nod to the hardwood floor down there… not so easy to color match is it?)… Doggie Door… Nah. STUFYUSIYUSY came bursting through the bushes thereabouts… dressed in his (snigger) manly utili-kilt (http://www.utilikil ts.com) but alas he had lost his caber. Perhaps Sourcrotch had it still, since she was no where to be seen… or mini and micro… also lost on trail and due for some down down-age. Anyhoo, STFYUSIUYS says Just P was a carnivore… a vicious vulture or falcon or eagle. She'd go to bars and find a man and just go a fishin' for a piece o' him. Oh yes… the stories we love…. Fishin' For Dick… nope… Dick Bait… Hmmmm…. Live Bait… nooooooo…. Bait & Switch………. Arrrrghhh so close… so long JP… from here out and forever more…. Tacklebox be thy name. Watchout for the hooks in the snatch y'all.

Peace and on on! 3-> Felch

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