Hash Trash #1077

Determined to prove they know how to change a clock, a herd of 30+ thirsty wankers arrived in College Park for the Bobbin’ for Fey trail du jour.  The usual suspects were accompanied by a gaggle of visitors from far and wide – SHIT, Mt. Vernon, and Chicago to name a few. 

From the look of FeyLAY’s scathed legs and B4B’s sadistic smile at the start, we knew we were in for a wonderful surprise of shigtastic magnitude!  Within minutes of the start, we were wet and happy.  Kudos to the storm drain road under-crossing!  Check confusion amassed as half of the pack ended up at the end of the trail.  Thanks to Walk My Bitch’s x-ray vision and Mother Chalker’s determination to not let us cheat, we ended up on the straight and narrow.  All of us except for Pony Boy, that is, who reportedly ran the trail NoNo!  False trail after false trail was our reward with an outright brazen “F” in logs to tease us.  If there was a thorn patch to be found, these two half-minds r*n us through it.  Blood on trail at every corner! 

Try as those hares might to keep us from our shot check, we forged through the sticker bushes and found the kryptonite juice.  Reeling from the overdose of high fructose corn syrup, the pack moved on.  And quickly!  Leaving Mi-rack-i freedom and I to fend for ourselves in the wilderness, they blazed through acres of briar and stream.  The beer check never stood a chance!  These wild animals tore through the Dog Fish like prohibition was around the corner.  Fueled by carbohydrates, they were off in a mad race to the finish with Back Seat Box coming in as FRB.  Trickling in one-by-one, the rejoicing and feasting began until… WHAT???  WE’RE OUT OF BEER???  Talk about trick not treat!  Circle hasn’t even started!  We prayed for the violations to begin so we could get our fix.  Accusations of racism, head gear in circle, fake blondes, and sex on trail abounded.   

The hares were forced to share the last Natty Bo’ and we dismissed ourselves to the On After at the 94th Aero Squadron.  Those poor people never saw this one coming!  Copious amounts of alcohol were demanded.  Food orders were thrown at the poor waiter from every direction.  Somehow he managed to keep us fed and well plied with alcohol.  Let the shenanigan’s begin!  Breast implants, motor boating, kissing, threesomes, dancing, mooning… we left little to the imagination!  Slowly the weary dragged themselves to the exit, leaving behind a few brave souls to close the place down.   

Not to be quitters, these five lushes made their way to the On After After at the historic shithole now known as The Cornerstone.  Former UMDers rejoice – it’s the old Vouz and the beer still tastes like shit.  The first round had barely arrived when WHAM!  FeyLAY! grabs Film by the back of the head and punches her in the nose!!!  Apparently there was some confusion that trash talking of England’s rugby team was really directed at the Washington Capitals but we can’t be certain.  Fay promptly made up for it with wet kisses and the five Wankers lived happily ever after… or at least until last call. OnOn,


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