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| HASH INFO |
THE GM: CHiPS
904-334-2720 |
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Jax Hash House Harriers
A Drinking Club with a Running Problem
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| DATE |
WRITTEN BY |
TITLE |
HARES |
| 06/14/08 |
Fecal |
Jax Hash #547 |
PMG |
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'WON THE HASH'.
That's right, we were crowned Glad-He-Ate- Her and Clitoris Maximus for best Togas and won free registration to Orgy in September. Of course, Lunar's lap dancing for all the judges helped sway them her way. I have no idea why I won except I did have a very gawdy outfit.
Also Fecal and I made up a new tippy cup game at the party called Flashy Cup.
Though involving a bit of nudity, it's sure to come to a hash event near you.
The game did get closed down due to rough housing, but it's nice to know I can still get reprimanded once in a while.
Lastly, I forgot my shoe bag and had to buy a new pair of runners for the hash.
Knowing what was coming, I kept the tags on, as did another hasher who commited the same heinous crime. Needless to say, today they have the slight scent of new brew shoe.
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| 06/14/08 |
TOTTS |
Jax Hash #547 |
MM and PMG |
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What an AWESOME event.
It started, well months and months ago which was obvious by the detailed planning, but for me it started Friday when the hotel ran out of rooms with two beds. Bad news you say, HELL NO! instead of one room with 2 beds for me and my roomy (Princess), they gave us 2 rooms for the same price. I understood they offered that to anyone else
(even some couples that wanted one bed). So now I can't tell you if Princess ever made it back to his room at night, but he did stop by when he needed help getting dressed.
The hashpotality suite was a bit small for the gatherers Friday evening, but made up for it by having a full fridge and 2 kegs in the tub. Pizza for dinner and on to the pub crawl, which, BONE-US, started a full hour early - now that's what I'm talking about.
First stop, River City Brewing Co. - you'd never have known it was a Friday night there, we more than doubled the crowd when we arrived. I was a bit confused though, pitchers of a wheat microbrew - wasn't I there with the hash???
The punk band taking a break outside the london pub, second stop, was so happy to see us - why is there only one bathroom in there???? We got started with "Jesus can't go hashing" before the band went back on. I don't think they expected the competition. They were happy to have someone in the same room with them, but we left after a couple of songs.
Walking through the Jacksonville Landing to the final stop - okay this was the best part of all. An empty lounge on the second floor of the landing with a balcony and views of the Jax bridges all lit up (like we were by the end of the night). AIDs behind the bar mixing up his famous margaritas (they made my HEAD thump HARD the next
morning), and pouring pitchers from 2 more kegs of beer. Limp Dick at the guitar - he can play anything!! Peterphile was making up games that really pushed my memory limits - I love a game where the answer "I don't remember his name but he had a really big dick" is
perfectly acceptable. For those of you who missed the game, write and tell us what you were doing.
I'd like to tell you about the rest of the night but I remember so little. Sing alongs where no one cared how badly we sang, beer, margaritas and beer again, hashers in the closet, men in the ladies room, more beer and margaritas. Then TomaCock to the rescue shuttling us back across the river to the hotel when it was time to lock up -
what time was that? Limp Dick brought the guitar back to the hashpotality suite - was he supposed to do that??? What do the rest of you remember??
Saturday - rolled our drunk asses out of bed and HEADed to the hashpotality suite for mimosas - yumm. Some headed out for real breakfast down the street, others found the bagels to go very well with the bloody marys and beer. Most of us made it to the beginning of trail. Our hares, Pork Me and (mystery meat hare) Blacks On Blondes (BOB)provided chalk talk - to my surprise we had hashers who
had not heard of a YAK check or Free Pee. A few group photos and we're off.
Now here is where I can only tell you the trail from the viewpoint of the newly created "Wrong Side of the Track HAIR'm". Nine of us (8 hariettes and Fecal) found ourselves on the wrong side of a train. I didn't realize how long the trains are in Jax. 10 minutes later the
train had passed and we found the trail mark on the tracks and went in search for the rest of the pack. As the last of them were leaving the extra credit stop at Sherwoods, we opted to go in. After a few drinks we moved toward the skyway and were once again stopped on the wrong side of the tracks for another endless train.
We picked up trail on the other side and boarded the skyway after much deliberation about which side of the tracks we wanted to be on, and a quick photo stop. When we realized we were headed back the way we came and should have exited the car at the previous stop, we decided to settle in. FFF began to practice her pole dancing.
Practice over, she gave Beaver a lap dance (See Fecal's hash space for the video). We approached a stop that had 3 folks getting on. One look at our car and they promptly walked further to the second car. Next we hit the King St. Garage stop (end of the line) where the security guard thought it would be a good idea to keep an eye on us
from the other car - could that have had anything to do with the camera that was dead on FFF while she performed her dance for us? We found our way to a new train with a boob check and YBF. We stumbled thirsty to the second beer stop to find that the other walkers followed Peterphile and had cut across the corner where the eagle-
turkey trail was marked. Note to self-don't follow runners during a turkey-eagle trail unless you want to fly with the eagles. It was HOT, HOT, HOT. Fortunately the beer was COLD, COLD, COLD (how do they do that?). River City was the extra credit on the way home. Circle was pretty quick with the usual events. Alcoholiday - from VIVA LAS
VEGAS - taught us some new songs.
On to Hash Olympics. Taco eating, banana eating, monkey bikes, water balloons, hula-hoops, low-hanging balls, and much, much, more. Winners were celebrated at the toga party. This is the part of the day where I faded - anyone have more detail?
TOGA - TOGA - TOGA
We donned our Togas and started on the second pub crawl in as many days. Our first stop, just the other side of the bridge, plenty of beer and So.Co and lime shots - oh my. As we milled about drinking and enjoying, the church congregation returned to their van 2 parking spots away from the beer truck. I'm glad we weren't singing at the
time, we would have really scared them.
On to the next bar.
A country bar, complete with mechanical bull. Alcoholiday got us started, men in togas on a mechanical bull - ALL RIGHT! Just when we were getting bored of the bull (he-he), the line dance teacher started to teach "Save a horse - Ride a cowboy", how did she know? I'm sure we were one of the largest groups she has had there. Half way through the lesson she approached Beaver to check if she was really wearing nothing under that material that didn't connect on the sides - she was surprised to find she was right, we weren't.
On to the end.
Beer, Pasta from Pizza Hut, Margaritas and More Beer and more Margaritas. A couple of DJs spinning some fun tunes, AIDs behind the bar, again, keeping our glasses full. Tippy cup, Flashy cup, Bar dancing, Bar cooter eating, conga lines, Princess "resting" - don't worry, he woke and found a second wind, more line dancing, more cooter shots, togas abandoned on the floor. Lunar won the best
harriette toga - concensus is she impressed the judges with her bar dancing and ???. Peterphile took best harrier toga - could have been the bar cooter eating. As he says - they won the hash. Free Regos to Orgy. Once again, TomaCock to the rescue to shuttle us back across the river to the hotel. Private parties, fountain swimming, shots,
sex, general debauchery.
Sunday morning.
Are you kidding me? No one even showed for the fat boy - wayyyy to hungover or still asleep. The bash was a bust, don't think anyone had balance enough for a two-wheeler and no tricycles in sight. More mimosa's and beer. Check out at 11 was extended to noon. And here is the best part, we weren't kicked out and may actually be allowed to come back!!!!!
On-On to the new and vastly improved SEX ON-ON 2009. Thank you mis-management for all the hard work you put into the event. How ever will you top this one?
For the rest of you wankers - we want to hear your story.
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| 05/31/08 |
Hops on Pops |
Jax Hash #544 |
Hops on Pops |
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Thanks to all you wankers that showed up for trail on Saturday, I had a blast even though you are all psychotic for RUNNING at 2:00 in the heat in Florida. I cant remember the last time the pack was not only FRB but DFL as well!
After I talked with the pack and saw the photos most of you did some crazy stuff on trail, yippee. That was the plan! Including the panty swapping! It was good to see you fall for the YBF by the cop car, swim the rention pond, get stuck on the barbed wire and fall for the 1/2 mile count back before the first beer check!
We dont need to mention the second leg of trail, no one really found it anyway. When one hare drinks... all hares drink....
The third leg, the shiggy leg well ...only 4 survived plus me and the flag football team I ran into. The rest of the pack didnt even try to follow trail they followed Aunt Jemima. ??? I told you they did some crazy stuff.
Circle was a blast, all these hot, sweaty, dirty, bloody wet hashers in someones' skivies! What a sight! What a great time.
On on to more beer and boyz in my panties!
Hops on Pops
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| 04/26/08 |
PreTeen Spirit/Pees on Small Dogs |
10th Anal KGB Memorial/Red Dress Run PUB CRAWL Jax Hash #536 |
PreTeen Spirit/Pees on Small Dogs, Captain Taco, and Butt Nut |
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10th Anal KGB Memorial Jacksonville Beach Red Dress Run
This year’s Red Dress Run, like last year’s and the year before that, and… started in the Twisted Sister’s parking lot on Beach BLVD in Jax Beach at 2:00. The hares were Pees on Small Dogs, fka PreTeen Spirit, aka Don’t Take My Picture, aka Just Blame Me, along with Captain Taco and Butt Nut. RA’s were C*nt Cruiter and Sphincter Sicle. Tons of out-of-towners joined a large local turn out to our pub crawl this year, thanks to Taco’s advertising. A total of 85 hashers went on trail.
Captain Taco doubled her hare duty doing a fine job HEADing up on-site REGO, which was $25 pre-REGO, $35 day of. Give Aways were red t-shirts and the first 50 REGO got red dress logo shot glasses. Bobber and Half-a-Jack handled the keg and Prick ’r Bush sold left over haberdashery stuff cheap. Pees did Chalk Talk and the hares were away about 2:30.
The first bar was the “old Moon,” a former hasher hang out that has been converted to the Crab Cake Factory, a respectable bar/restaurant that apparently was hard up for business this Saturday afternoon, willing to sell $6 domestic pitchers.
The revelers then strode down Beach BLVD in dandy red this and that’s, stopping briefly in front of Sonic at a Song Check to sing various hash medleys, and then On~On to the first beer check near the new Publix, where Vibrating Oedipus gave a KGM memorial toast after red headed sluts were handed out.
Then on to A1A/3d Street and north to another frequent RDR stop – Dicks Wings. Sphincter and ‘Cruiter led the pack in an Allouette of Just Katie, and after an hour or so of rabble rousing, the pack HEADed east to the boardwalk, delivering a rousing rendition of an unidentified hash song at a Song Check outside Bukkets before proceeding to the 3d bar – Happy Stefanos. The pack took over the upper floor at Stefanos, swilling beer and flashing strangers attending the Opening of the Beaches celebrations on 1st Street below.
Back up to A1A/3d Street, most of the pack earned extra credit at Ginger’s before hitting the 2d beer stop/Circle behind Pee’s house. At the on-in circle we treated to daiquiris courtesy of AIDS (Anally Induced Destructive Sex), floated the keg, and finished off about 20 cases of canned beer. Sphincter and ‘Cruiter handled countless accusations, there were numerous shenanigans, and dozens of down-downs before the Circle was ended with Father Abraham.
But the fun wasn’t over. The pack meandered two blocks from P33s house to the last bar – Wakey Wakey’s. Some harriers and harriettes (Princess, Just Terra) had enough libations throughout the day and decided to takes naps at the bar and on other benches… One Jax hasher apparently was having problems with his plumbing and a certain Just _____ assisted him with clearing his pipes. Our illustrious GM (the one who has not bought a keg yet), CHIPS, aka Dicktator, brought a cheap-ass Karaoke machine, but unfortunately its volume was drowned out by the general din in the bar. Chow was served, eventually, but most were too drunk to realize they were hungry anyway, as pitchers were served practically until the last hasher was standing, or lying if you will…
But not to quit, no not us! Remnants of the pack (who had not found other forms of entertainment) proceeded back to Gingers, which, as blind luck would have it, was having kick-ass Karaoke on this Evening in Red… So sing they did… With all the non-hasher infidels admiring them, still lovely in red, 10 hours into the Red Dress Run…
Until next year…
On~On…
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| 03/23/08 |
Pees on Small Dogs |
Pees Reports from InterHash 2008 Perth, Australia |
Various |
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P33s on small dogs (f.k.a. Preteen spirit, a.k.a. Just blame me, a.k.a.Don't take my picture) reporting from Inter Hash 2008 in Perth, Australia on Easter Sunday.Yesterday morning about 11, All Lips and I boarded one of several doublebuses carrying about 350 hashers to Run C5, Wungong, managed by Uncle Fester and Bussleton H3. The trail, advertised as a "Dam fine run" on bush tracks thru the natural Jarrah forrest meandering thru flora and fauna. Mostly shaded (it's about 85 degrees here) with a couple of steep hills, great views, "not too hard."
The bus ride was about an hour to get out into the bush. The buses made 3 drops, one each for the Long, Medium and Short trail hounds. Lips and I took the medium trail, said to be 8km, but actually 7.5 miles by one hasher's GPS.
C5 was one of 19 runs that day in 43 trails (each run had 2 or 3 trails according to length (short, medium, long), except the "Ball Breaker" run/trail, which had only one length of 24 km across Australian bush country. Most of these runs are being repeated today for the 5,000 or so hashers from around the world.
The C5 medium trail started out down a dirt road cutting thru forest. Almost every intersection/check had a false trail discovered several hundred meters on. After meandering many miles, we approached a hill and began an ascent that seemed never to end. That hill kicked our arses! Every time we thought we were nearing the top, there was another bend to take us even higher. Then down aways the other side and we came out at a dam for a beer check (no water, oops!). Another km down a hardball road and we were on-in at a campsite area where the organizers grilled steaks and hot dogs for us.
It was mid-afternoon by then, and it was hot. Many of us walked a short way to a fresh water lagoon by the dam and swam a bit. There was a raucous circle with 2 kiddie pools, one half filled with beans, and one with ice and water, in which offenders were made to wallow when their transgressions were made public. Also there was a block of ice. After the hour long circle and down-downs, we returned to Perth, to relax a bit before returning to the venue at Gloucester Park. We met up with veteran Jax Beach hashers Crash Test Dildo and Highway Hummer there, and drank the free flowing wine and beer and enjoyed the hash skits before stumbling home for the night.
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| 03/19/08 |
Capt Taco |
Jax Hash #527- A Namin' A Brewin' ?? |
Mystery Hare and Aunt Jemima |
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from beer truck's perspective...
Good ol' reliable, out of town, mystery hare Doofus White Boy signed up to hare trail...Aunt Jemima to be his 'bitch'. Slick Willie leads circle since neither GM or RA show and does a quick announcement of Just Katie's "brand new shoes" shes wearing.
AJ has to start the first part, since the 'hare' is still in a work meeting down the street.
Both with hurt ankles, Capt and Just Katie are in charge of the beer truck....(im still surprised this doesnt worry anyone).
First beer stop....Marriott off JTB. Thank goodness for Just Katie working in the area...you can never rely on AJ's directions! Waiting for the hashers (and slow hare), we see off in the distance a good looking man all dressed up...what? did he call my name?...is it?...why, yes it is...Doofus's 'better half'....AND bearing presents!!
"captain-themed" presents were shared and Doofus does a quick change. (OH and i finally get access of Pee's lost property-his bag left in Gainesville....hhhmm..what should we do to this?)
Hashers arrive after trail goes through the Marriott. Short cutters coming over the fence instead of on trail.
Beers are downed and hotel management started peeking out. I hurry the hashers on. Redwing decides its more fun with the Boob MObile and cums with us.
Second beer stop....a what?! a BANK?...yea this will be good. I pull up and select waterview parking. Just Katie tells me she has to pee, but cant go in public...boy, its gonna be a long night for her....
Redwing starts hyperventilating because he cant find a lighter for his cigar! Someones damn cell wont stop ringing! What?...security is here already?? Thank goodness for Redwing who can use the word "runners".
Hashers finally arrive. Beers are downed, a lighter is found, Marriott cookies are shared and i hurry them off again.
Time to find ON IN...after several U Turns and donuts in some parking lots, we finally find it. Just Katie scurries out of the truck before it even stops, old TP she found in the truck, in her hand, and runs for the bushes...i knew she wouldnt make it. She then comes out to announce...she never pees in public...shes so proud of herself!...Oh Just Katie, dont you know you dont admit these kind of things before you are named?? Naming anyone??
Hashers finally arrive after going under 95. Circle is done, all beers are drank, except two bottles, Just Katie decides to do a flash instead of drink out of her shoes, and pasta is served.
ON AFTER at Gators were we had a great visit from Escort.
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| 03/15/08 |
Capt Taco |
Jax Hash #526 St Patty's Day Pub Crawl |
Capt Taco and Back Bedroom Bobber |
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The new 'crawl area' was picked (Tinseltown vs the usual beach), the bars selected, the cheap beer prices negoated, the shots made, the overachieving Irish trivia game planned....it was going to be a good pub crawl.....but little did we know it would be better than expected!
After much complaining during the week, of start location and time, we actually managed to pull out 30 hashers/virgins dressed in green to go frollicking through Tinseltown.
After several rounds of jello shots, pudding shots, barcardi shots, blow jobs (courtesy of Colonel's Bitch), spiked watermelon, and of course cheap beer, Sphincter ran circle and sent off the hares with a beer shotgun (?).
After a dash across Southside, we cum to the First Bar...the unexpected 'family environment' Fridays.
(Watching the hashers cross busy Southside blvd and actually managing to stop traffic with their drunken slowness was pretty funny.) As the hares arrived, we were quite surprised to find our outside patio to be prepared with tables set with appetizers. The manager provided FREE APPETIZERS AND SHOTS for us! (Definately keeping this one in the books.) The waitress brought us a couple rounds of 23 ozers for everyone, so we had to say our thanks by feeding her shots! After picking up a couple more virgins, the hares were off to the second bar.....
...Ale House. Pitchers all around and entertainment was found.....CHILDRENS COLORING/GAME BOOKS....AND SUCKING HELIUM!! After finding the Capt's name in the crossword puzzle, hashers spilling beer, and picking up a couple more hot virgins, we head to the third stop.....
...the hares prepared a nice table dancing and couch lap dancing area for the hashers over by the hotel picnic table/dumpster. Prick r Bush and Half a Jack gave a quick show. O God somehow found shiggy and cut up her leg, which she would later clean with my frozen penis. They finally stumbled to the dead drop where there would be more...yes, more....shots all around!! A quick allouette was done with Virgin Lisa (?) who was brought by Butt Nutt. Triva winners were announced...Half a Jack and Sphincter (the only two that actually gave 'real' answers)....and their prize was split....A CASE OF GREEN BUD LIGHT BEER!
alright..off to the 3rd bar....Wing House....whoo hoo...lovely site all around...including the one the only...Cotton Panels daughter!! the boys got all the attention, food was ordered, pool was played, and vessel's became 'lost property'.
The over zealous Bobber decides to throw in some shiggy and lay trail through the back pond area, which we later find out that everyone discovered us and just walked on the sidewalk to Mellow mushroom. Rounds of canned PBR was passed out. Hashers started playing with the 'kids party' that was finishing up. Capt got scared, so went inside to join the Mellow Mushroom drinking club with Bobber and Sphincter. For a good finish to a fun crawl, a nice round of some 'real' beer (Blue Moon) was ordered for our first beers checked off the list....only how many hundred more to go??
Thanks to everyone that came out!!
Capt Taco
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| 02/23/08 |
Pork Me Gentiley |
Jax Hash #521 |
Pork Me Gentiley |
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And it was a lovely day for a hash - beautiful sunny skies and warm spring weather. True to form, the Hare arrived late and confused, not really sure how she got the job or exactly where the pack would go....(thank goodness for mapquest scouting while wearing PJ's and drinking coffee).
The group followed trail through the streets of San Marco and its railroad tracks, ending up at Sherwoods for EC. After enjoying that fine atmosphere and fresh air, they took off towards Baptist Medical Center's parking garage. Inside the damp garage, they found their way to the elevator and rode up, stopping at each level to find true
trail. Sure enough, the marking was on the top floor of the garage.
The group then raced down the spiral ramp, and eventually the first beer check at the San Marco skytram. And there was also some talk about a train in the way..........
Never detered, so onward! to the skytram they went - crossing over the Acosta bridge and trying to find the right tram to Hemming Plaza. Once on the northbank of downtown, the kids wandered around to find the 2nd beer check then eventually through the courtyard of the over-
priced luxery waterfront condos. They ran up and down the Plaza parking garage (with a lot of VERY well dressed folks milling about), then through The Landing parking lot.
A-ha! The turkey/eagle split was found - the choice was to either run up and over the Main Street Bridge or swim across the St. Johns River. Back on the south bank (after the bridge went up of course), the group enjoyed the Riverwalk back to the start, where the hare had already bailed on her own trail.
Thanks to the awesome crowd that showed up! We missed those of you who couldn't join us and hope to see you next time.
On On to the next Wed night trail and next Saturday afternoon trail!
Pork Me Gentiley
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| 02/06/08 |
Just Blame Me |
(Day After) Mardi Gras Trail (#517) |
PreTeen Spirit and Just Adrienne |
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It was a warm night in the dead of winter in Neptune Beach that Just Adrienne and PreTeen Spirit (aka Don't Take My Picture, aka Just Blame Me) arrived early at the old Taco Bell in Neptune Beach to lay Just Adrienne's first trail. Back Bedroom Bobber and Captain Taco had been pre-lubing in the area and were already there, sporting beads that had been tossed just two weekends past at Gasparilla in Tampa. Almost immediately the Neptune Beach police joined us, and we thought for a brief moment that we were once again to be hasheled and driven off from laying Trail in Neptune Beach. But he was only responding to a spurious alarm in an adjacent business and left shortly after.
Redwing Hoover (Religious Advisor) and Aquabator (Hash Cash) arrived wearing fashionable Mardi Gras masks, as did TomaCock Chop and a few others. Our Grand Master was AWOL, as ever, to this the last Trail before Erections. PreTeen did chalk talk and the hares were away, dropping for trail marks beads that PreTeen brought from Mardi Gras parades in New Orleans just two days before. Soon 25 or so hashers had arrived to go on the (Day After) Mardi Gras Trail.
A short jaunt across A1A and the hares cut over to the beach, slogging through sand for several blocks on this moonless night. The first beer check was on the beach, just before the hares cut back into the neighborhood and then over to Jarboe Park. There were shenanigans reported at the beer stop -- skinny dipping and n!pple licking and more, but the hares were clueless to this misbehaviour as they hurried anxiously down dark streets in a quiet neighborhood dropping beads and flour.
The beer truck arrived at the second beer check just after the hares marked it, so the hares were able to re-hydrate before moving on. A short trek through the neighborhood and across Atlantic BLVD and the hares marked the On-In in the parking lot behind the Flies Tie. Just Adrienne and PreTeen Spirit hadn't even finished a beer by the time the FRB (Face Plant Puke Princess) and FBI (Oh G0d I'm Coming) marked their arrival.
The hares were made to drink for the sh!tty trail, and many others were punished for their respective violations. Our future worst GM ever, CHIPs, celebrated his 69th Trail with Jacksonville Beach H3, taking a bu++ chug from Oh G0d. CHIPs also won the prize for "catching" the most beads on trail, for which he was awarded a pair of Just Adrienne's p@nties (actually jumbo-sized grannies marked "Mardi Gras P@nties"). Just Adrienne had prepared the best red beans and rice ever, and contributed a King's Cake as well. Pricker Bush ate half the cake before successfully finding the hidden baby to enable her to become (by Mardi Gras adapted tradition) Just Adrienne's beer b!+ch for the rest of the night.
PreTeen Spirit's shenanigans with Captain Taco's small dog restored him to his usual place in the dog house with the Hash. Swing Low was sung, Circle ended, and the Hash retired to the beer garden at the Flies Tie. a good time was had by all...
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| 02/03/08 |
Fill Me Anally |
Mardi Gras in Mobile |
Joe Cain |
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Joe Cain is the man responsible for reviving Mardi Gras in America after the Civil War, and it was in MOBILE, ALABAMA, not New Orleans where this happened.
Short story, he was a hasher. He "borrowowed" a wagon from a local politician and threw dablooms out to the problematic Catholics as they left church, the day before Ash Wednesday...now called Fat Tuesday. There was much celebrating...(with hornes on their heads...)
Anyway, the BAR (Bay Area Runners) club has an annual run in his honor and a block party in front of Joe's actual house after. CAN YOU SAY AWESOME!?!?!
Many hashers showed up (Take it like a man, lick me lower, souie, muther superior, babe thruster, dances with poles..) and were VERY accepting ou an out of town hasher,
Bringing Bud Lite helped acceptance...
If you get to get into Mobile, AL, highly recommended...
Fill Me, Annally
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| 12/15/07 |
'Cruiter |
80 degrees and icy |
Captain Taco & Butt Nutt |
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So it happened... The trail that spurred another great email debate. Rain, thunder, winds, and ice... Well, the young and old hashers at heart came out Saturday. Captain Taco and Butt Nutt had sent out the theme. It seems that everyone had their two cents worth of opinions as to ice or no ice, rain and no trail, white elephants or just run a trail and go home. As is par for the course, the rains never came. It was a beautiful day for beer, trail, shots, and a bbq. The circle was great and even had a visit from the Tin Man who happened to be passing by and saw us doing some damn dance routine with body parts which was strangely like the hokey pokey, but I cannot remember the name... LOL...
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| 11/21/07 |
Capt Taco |
Jax Beach Hash #506 |
Senior Spitizen and Womb |
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The hare promised a good hangover and a good hangover was had! The night began with a few confused hashers (Kerb and Face Plant) actually showing up in hash attire expecting there to be a trail despite all the many posts of ‘wear normal clothes’. After a quick change in the car….and one even brushing his ‘tooth’ in the car (Tomacock)…we realized some hashers can actually ‘clean up’ well.
One may have wondered why the mystery ‘CO-hare’ (Womb) instead of the hare (Senior)lead chalk talk (although we were warned at 2pm day of trail and she had still not scouted)…but that was soon put to rest after being introduced to the new “Lesbian triangle” mark. This would later be put into great use on a bar napkin.
A good turnout was had and even the great legend Mt Yak made an appearance with his secret stash of chloroform. The hares were off and the pack followed shortly….some on trail….most on their own trail, knowing it was leading to the same bar as last year. After stumbling upon BN, Boob Check, and EC all next to each other, some were too sober and got upset there wasn’t a beer truck readily available (despite several warnings to bring their own money for beer). That was soon fixed as the pitchers made their appearance and the ‘triangle’ started making its rounds. After drinking a few good brews, getting dizzy by watching the spinning tire on the ceiling, and having a quickie in the bathroom, the hashers were off again….not realizing they left behind a perfectly good fresh pitcher of beer. Tomacock and Capt tried to chug and then snuck out with the rest in hand.
After giving the inflatable turkey a good hump, we were off again. Not finding trail, but knowing the end, we were welcomed to On In by some curious minds from the employees at the pizza joint. Circle was ‘out of control’ as always, but the “community” pack of cigarettes settled some of us down. Scrotum got his groove on with Aqua and Capt in circle, and later Prick joined the fun and a three way kiss was shared by the girls…. until the camera came out….thanks Kerb (since when do you carry a camera??)
After much rejoicing from the hashers, the pizza employees could not resist the temptation and mozzied over with beer and wine in hand! (natural hashers!) As most of us tried to welcome our new ‘virgins’ and explain the chaos behind their establishment, some of us decided to throw ice at the hot male and sultry female. To much delight, our rudeness and craziness did not scare away these virgins and somehow we convinced the attractive brunette to try on Aunt Jemima’s bikini top!
“Thanksgiving” Trail Circle ended with a delightful feast of …..cheese and crackers!
Disappointment was short lived as we walked into On After bar and found…..drum roll….TIPPY CUP!! After conveniently arranging the teams to have the two “Tippy Cup Queens” competing against each other it was proven that 1)Scrotum cant swallow 2) Senior STILL blames its her ‘teams’ fault 3)give girl hashers beer and tippy cup and we will flash anywhere! 4)sober ‘civilians’ are poor sports when playing with hashers.
I think the pack went on to a third bar, however, Capt was tore up by this point….so if someone else would like to continue the lovely Thanksgiving hash trash……..
Happy Thanksgiving to All!
What I’m thankful for this year……Jax Hashers!
Capt TAco
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| 11/10/07 |
Porks Me Gentiley |
Jax H3 #6 - Marine Corps Birthday Trail |
Face Plant, Redwing Hoover, & Sphincter Sicle |
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What a great turn-out on a beautiful fall day! Our three boys in cammies led the group through calisthenics, followed by a shitty trail (what else could we expect?).
We started out in the 'hood, but soon ventured off through canals and tunnels. The first beer check was a cooler aptly placed on an inner tube located in the middle of a retention pond - not to be confused with Pond Scum....and that would be a Sphincter Tube. Huge thanks to Returns To The Womb for swimming out to provide the pack with the Sweet Nectar of the gods: Shitty Beer.
While Womb was playing in the water, the FRBs (Butt Nutt, Chips, VO, and Porks Me Gentiley) proved they are as eager and misguided as the hares hoped they would be, for they traveled through the tunnel under I95 only to find a detailed YBF. Butt Nutt took off looking for a short cut back to trail and after some deliberation, Chips, VO, and PMG ventured back through the tunnel along with more misguided wankers.
Trail was again found. The pack ran through some urban shiggy followed by a delightful jaunt through wooded trails. A boob check was even placed near an unknown vagrant. Or - the vagrant decided to park at the boob check...hard to say. But the gals quickly decided to run past the mark without any consideration for the newcomer.
At last! The end (of trail and this story) - photo albums and framed pictures of the hares proved they were all just as handsome then as they are now (*insert "ahhhhh" or "bullshit" HERE). Circle included Marine traditions, cake and festivities - which continued at a nearby pub. And a Great time was had by all!!
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| 10/10/07 |
Capt Taco |
Jax Beach Hash #500 |
Capt Taco, Just Molly, Guns n Hoses, Half a Jack |
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Cheers to 500!
What a great 500th we had! They came far, they came near….the new,
the old, the relentless…. All to chase some great tail!
We gathered at the Adam and Eve down at the Oceanfront in
celebration of Hugh Hefner's `halfway' birthday. The hare Playboy
bunny being the first to arrive was soon greeted by a younger, more
cute Hugh, even sporting the "Capt" hat and pipe! After allowing the
hare to suck on his pipe for a moment, the hashers started to
arrive. Two more hot Playboy Bunnies arrived and a couple of hot
male strippers. Let the festivities begin!!….jello shots and glow
sticks were passed around.
After a clumsy chalk talk by Capt, the hares were off….Capt (the
drill sergeant/ bitch handler), Just Molly (the bitch), Guns n Hoses
(the chalk and TP bitch), and Half a Jack (the flour bitch). After
pleading for a 20 minute start, the hares (mostly walkers) hauled
ass. Two beer stops, one dead drop (thanks to Preteen's house), two
kid's parks, beach shiggy, a frat house, and packed bars to sing to
and flash.
After making it to the second stop, and downing a quick beer, the
hares realized…. "why aren't we hearing whistles." We decided to
walk. How could the `walkers' get so far ahead? (head…who said
head). Strolling down 1st street through the bars, Guns decides to
get creative….marking on buildings, statues, light posts, drawing
naked girls on the ground….and Capt questions why she didn't bring a
camera!
On In we came and STILL no beer truck ….after making a few quick
calls, with no luck, the beer truck finally arrives to quench the
hares thirst! The pack heads in…and even more familiar faces had
joined the pack after start. How the Capt smiled on `making it
bigger'. More jello shots and Aqua's favorite shooters were passed
around (after half of them were dropped….did you taste that grit??
hee hee) Then a very noisy circle gathered, Redwing tried to control
us and remember if he covered all his bases. (will someone PLEASE
make that man some cheat notes and glue it to his mug!!)
After Senior proved she was a spitter, the circle then gathered to
name Just Molly. A round of questions answered by her master and
then they were sent off….(why again was a `dog' sent away???)…to cum
up with a great name of Lick My Taco!
On-After to…..well, half went to Sneakers for Dollar Drafts and the
other half decided last minute to go to Gingers. Eventually we all
got back on the same page at Gingers where more crazy fun chaos
began….great karoake, a serenade, spankings, dancing, a close call
fist fight….what more could you expect?
On On to chasing some great tail!
Capt Taco
and
Lick my Taco
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| 09/15/07 |
Porks Me Gentiley |
Jax Saturday Hash #4 |
Sphincter Sicle and Special Guest Hares (Unibanger) |
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It was a sunny, warm lovely Saturday afternoon. The crowd enjoyed each other's company while waiting for Hare Sphincter to go home and get a pair......of running shoes. Upon his return, we were introduced to the "real" hare: Unibanger. Oh, this seemed oddly familiar: Shiggy 4 trail starting at Monument and McCormick.
There were no beer truck stops, just two drop offs in the woods, each consisting of 4 - yes FOUR beers. The beer truck just needed to be at the end. The hares and eventually the pack left for their adventure.
Trail consisted of a short drive to Cliff's Bar and Grill, where Sux, Porks Me, and Preteen enjoyed A/C, Gator football, a cold pitcher of GOOD BEER, and some aps. They talked and giggled like old friends. Sux and Preteen even shared clothes. It was a joyous time had by all, but alas, duty called and the responsible trio left to meet the hash at the on-in.
The group arrived, bloody and muddy. Hmmmmm. Must have been a different trail from the one to Cliff's. But they rejoiced and celebrated their adventure, and continued into the evening with an on-after at a local joint.
On On to October's trail!
Porks Me Gentiley
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| 09/05/07 |
Gritty Kitty |
Jax Beach Hash #495 |
Redwing Hoover |
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My name's Gritty Kitty from the Palm Beach H3, and I this was my first Jax hash. I had such a good time I wrote a Hash Trash about it to share the love. Here's a copy for ya'll of what I wrote:
Sept. 5, 2007 I hashed with the Jax H3 for their hash #495. I pulled right up to the group in my Jeep, proudly sporting my On-On decal and changed shirts, making sure to give a good flash to the hare, Redwing Hoover. Next thing I knew, I was enthusiastically greeted by a few of Jacksonville's finest hashers and harriettes. Many of them reached out and pulled me in for a warm hug, and all of them interacted with me during the pre-lube. Even though this was my first time hashing in Jax I felt like I belonged right from the start. I was invited to sing my favorite song "Ass hole, ass hole, a soldier i will be..." for their tradition of a warm-up circle prior to trail, and I later owed a down-down for stretching, which is appearantly NOT acceptable hash behavior up there (but they're yankees- so go figure). Oh, and it was "Ladies Night" so all the harriettes hashed for free.
Trail was on-the-mark as far as I was concerned. It was about 2 miles with no seperate walker trail. The pack stayed together the whole time thanks to lots of ranging and body part checks- including a new mark for me- YAK checks (i haven't seen this much manliness exposed since last year's Tampa campout)! There were 2 beer checks, where no time was wasted in gettin' some beer down, brought by the beer truck.
Finally, we circled by the beer truck and were treated to some very yummy casserole (ok, I take back the yankee statement I made earlier), bread, and more beer. Circle was fun and there was much rejoicing, with a song or two I hadn't heard before (and don't ask me to remember them now), and I was asked to share a song they didn't know. After a few failed attempts, I found one- the B-I-M-B-O song for those that don't wear hash attire or have whistles. The accusations flew including my stretching offense, which was caught on camera (thanks a lot, Bobber!) and I almost had to do a down-down for peeing but that got shiggy-shaggied (hehe- TAKE THAT BOBBER!!!), then we had a naming- congrats to Prick or Bush.
After circle we were transported back to our cars by the beer truck in two runs and then headed to a local bar for more beer, commaradarie, and my first game of Tippy Cup. Something about Tippy Cup is I got quite drunk doing it, so about half of the Jax folks remaining invited me to hash crash nearby in lieu of going to my cousin's house. I went to Fireman In The Hole's place with newly named Prick or Bush for an impromptu slumber party and... more beer! Thanks to both of them for finding my wallet the next day and getting it back to me before I left town. Whew!
Anyhow, I would recommend the Jax hash to any out of towners- they made me feel very welcome and sure know how to have a good time and good trail that was satisfying for all levels of runners and beer-drinkers alike.
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| 06/29/07 |
Anal Inspector |
Orgy In The Woods #8 |
Doofus White Boy, Dr. Anus and PrickLayHer |
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Once again THANK YOU! To Major Bation, Doofus White Boy, Hung Like A Peanut, Cunt Cruiter and Reservoir Tip for putting on a great event. The food, jello shots, tippy cup, apple pie shots and the great time hanging out with all in attendance. And a special, special thanks to Major Bation for letting us use her house again.
To ALL you complainers, whiners, rumor starters & rumor mongers who didn’t or wouldn’t come for what ever reason. Phucht Ewe Two!
So here’s my hash trash.
It was a dark and stormy night as we set sail. Heading out of port for the schooner that would be coming over the horizon come two sunrises. She was laden with Molasses headed for Havana, a cargo that would not see its port. Oops, sorry wrong story.
It was a dark and stormy night as I merged onto I-95 northbound out of West Palm Beach. My cargo hold was heavily laden with Jello shots and ice for the long weekend ahead. Being that I was unburdened with the responsibility of employment until Tuesday next I was off to the barren wasteland of Keystone Heights west of what’s now known as Palatka. I arrived early Thursday evening to find several folks already in attendance. Reservoir Tip, Hung Like A Peanut, Cunt Cruiter, Nappy Headed Ho, and Doofus had been busy at the lake house this day. Preparing for the hoards who would descend upon this tranquil place, the lake house at 5828 Silver Sands Rd. was one of the few oasis to be found in this territory. Some of the early chores had been completed and it was nearing time to take rest for supper. To the surprise of all RT had put together a meal for out dinner, with no incident mind you. All was well this evening, Nappy soon departed as did RT. Peanut retired to his tent. Doofus, Myself and Cruiter decided to venture into town to mingle with the locals. As we approached the local watering hole, The White Elephant, compadre Cruiter was a bit uneasy as to his safety and survival. The parking area was filled with 4wd pick-ups and Harleys, his Michigan plates and flip-flop shoes brought apprehension, we took a deep breath(our last of decent breathable air for the duration of our stay) and headed inside. As we scanned the interior we were quick to take ease in our surroundings. First point of business was to get a beverage. Natty Light long necks 2 bucks, pay dirt! Across the room at the pool table we spotted some locals, this sight brought ease to Cruiter amongst the flip-flop clad pool players was a 50ish male, Winston hanging from his joules, sporting a mullet right out of Joe Dirt and barefoot. We had found acceptable sanctuary, with suitable beverages. A couple of beers, back to the lake house for slumber and rest.
We woke Friday morning to begin the final assault on the preparations for the weekends events. Cruiter got busy with the hot tub which would be our Keggerator and ice trough. Doofus soon arrived with the kegs, what do my eyes deceive me, that’s a keg of Yuengling, way to go, I will not be tortured with Bud light for the entire event. Soon after the kegs were unloaded the ice man cometh. After the kegs were iced down it was time to tap. RT stepped up, and tapped the keg. Foam, nothing but foam. Foam, foam, foam. Just the first of hundreds of major malfunctions at the hands of RT. Major Bation soon arrived with Mistress Viagra. She pulled up, exited the vehicle and immediately locked her keys in the car. Luckily Mistress Viagra has AAA. By this time more people were arriving. Porkymon, Fecal Fucker, Hairy Cheese Balls, Shop Teacher and Limp Dick all arrived and were welcomed with a Jello shot. A car then pulled in, the guy got out and started taking stuff out of his trunk. I went over to him and said "Hi I’m Anal Inspector from West Palm, have a Jello shot". He said "Thanks" and went back to getting his tool box and window snake from his trunk. It was the AAA guy. "Doh!!" About this time into camp comes Strips My Wood pulling a huge smoker for cooking Saturdays lunch, Smoked Beer-can chicken. Also with Strips My Wood is Put a Lil’ Mouth On My South, Dead Peter Beater and Virgin Nick. They met Virgin nick at a bar in Jax beach. One thing lead to another and they invited him along for the weekend. Although quite trashed upon arrival as the weekend went by Nick really kicked ass, pitching in to help and rolling with everything like an experienced hasher. Deanna & Donny would later vote him "Best Virgin Ever!". More and more folks were showing up. Mammies and Prick Lay Her, Spoke Her & Face Full, Squat & Swallow, I’m Too Sexy For Sex, Just Puke & Dr Anus, Kiddie & Venomous Cooter from Tampa, etc. The Jello shots were flying about, Super Injection Apple Pie shots were invented and soon it was time for dinner. Burgers on the grill cooked to order, I’ll have med rare please. Hot dogs, corn on the cob, Baked Potatoes with all the fixin’s. There was even sweet relish for the hot dogs. Cruiter and Peanut did a great job getting everything ready. As the sun went down things stated to kick into gear. Dr Doo Doo and Surley Temple got into their cocktail dresses, there was some tippy cup going on, and of course Yucca, Yucca, Yucca. Soon came the Midnight Shooting Star Toga hash. Doofus White Boy looked dead sexy in the corona bikini. More tippy cup and so on and so on and so on.
Saturday morning I awoke to find Surley Temple standing at the kitchen sink with a glazed but familiar look on his face. This was the look of "what the hell did I drink last night?" Down stairs for some breakfast and a little gatorade. So it’s about 8am and there’s Nick the Virgin with Strips My wood they’re getting the grill ready for lunch. Light the coals and filling the chickens. Yes filling the chickens, they had about 30 chickens and a two cases of Natty light. Nick was busy pulling the giblet bags while Strip was putting the beer cans in the chickens and standing them up on the grill. More arrivals and as the morning progressed more haggard faces stumbled towards the coffee area. Bagels & Cream cheese, Cheese & Fruit Danish, Fresh fruit and Bloody Mary’s was todays breakfast fare. RT was busy at the Bloody Mary bar, but surprisingly so she actually made the mix better. Bobber dominated the kiddie pool wrestling until Tie Me Down hosed them off. Finally there was activity over at the grill. Strips & Virgin Nick had the lid open and were getting ready to serve. The beer can chicken was fantastic served with salad and side dishes. The camp became unusually quiet during lunch. Its funny how good food will shut everybody up. Lunch was over and Doofus was now stalking the group threatening "trail starts in 30 minutes". RT came forward and called Virgin Nick to the chalk talk and the presentation of his Virgin Banana. Soon the hares were present and ready for chalk talk. The hares were Doofus White Boy, Dr Anus and Prick Lay Her. Three hares? Yup, three hares. The "pack" made their way forward to check out the choice of marks for what was sure to be a typical Doofus Death March. The pack was, Hairy Cheese Balls, Tie Me Down Dick, Do Her On The Rocks, Just Puke, Shop Teacher, Cunt Cruiter and myself Anal Inspector. 10 minute head start for the hares and we were on-on. The trail left camp across the street and right into the woods. This was about the extent of the pavement for most of the trail. We wound our way through the woods till we came out on a lake. As is typical for most lakes in the area the water level was very low. As we passed around the shoreline to the far side we came across a 4wd jeep stuck in the mud and some folks just staring at the vehicle. We continued on. As we worked a check and finally found on-on again I passed a sign along the way saying "Warning Sherrif’s Department has Posted No Trespassing. Violators will be prosecuted". I don’t know about everybody else but I see one of these signs and I’m going that way. Sure enough on-on. Through more woods and in the distance we see the Beer Truck. Or so we think. No Beer just water & Gatorade. WTF. At this point of the trail Strips My Wood joined the pack, off we went STILL in search of a beer. We trekked on, finally we found the mark of all marks the beloved "BN". The beer check was a familar sight to Cruiter and me, as we had been here on Thursday night. There was the rest of the group waiting for us, we were greeted with boobies and beer. We stayed here for a while, then moved on about a ½ mile down the road to beer check #2 another local watering hole. We caravanned back to camp for circle, many down-downs and accusations were done. The circle retired with Hops on Pops trying to lead us in a Swing Low. Mmmm something was starting to smell good. Dinner was a cookin’. Saturday dinner was a shrimp boil. Shrimp, shrimp and more shrimp, Corn on the Cob, Sausage it was great!! Later that evening we were upstairs playing asshole. Puke, Major, Dr A, Surley Temple, Mamms and several others. I don’t know how or why but somehow Major decided to try and wax Surleys hairy ass with duct tape. After several attempts it was determined that you can’t wax a hairy ass with duct tape. The partying went into the wee hours of the morning. The roving band of assholes went out for a tent shake around 1am, more debauchery, more people falling out of, or tipping out of their chairs. Senior Spitizen led a second and third RbofA’s. And I’m pretty sure somebody was having sex, either that or the racoons in Keystone Heights make very strange noises.
On Sunday morning we found Dead Peter Beater, Hops on Pops and Virgin Nick still going from the night before. Sunday morning brought much of the same as Saturday morning, but on Saturday morning no one had to break camp and pack-up. As the early crashing folks awoke Sunday a plan to seek revenge on the RBofA ring leader was hatched. Senior had set her tent on the lower area down by the lake. The tent shakees of the night before had now become the shakers. Well Senior got her due. Not just a tent shake put a Super-soaker wake up call and a pulling of the tent poles. I have to say here, Senior may have been quite the annoying pain in the ass on Saturday nite. But she took it like a good sport on Sunday morning. Nice to see someone who can dish it out as well as take it. Well as the Sunday revelers began to gain full consciousness, well as full as a hasher can get. The subject of lunch came about. There was a lot of food left over from Saturdays lunch and dinner. Virgin Nick had the idea of going to the store for some rice for the chicken. Great idea. We went and got some fixin’s and lunch was under way. We took the left over leg quarters and cleaned them, steamed the meat warm in the turkey cooker and then added that into a big pot of red beans and rice, Major took the left over baked potatoes, cut them up with cheese, butter and sour cream and warmed that on the grill. The left over bagels were brushed with butter and garlic powder. There was salad and veggies left also. I took the left-over shrimp and steamed them with beer, and made a fresh batch of cocktail sauce. On Sunday afternoon I heard something I’ve never heard at a hash camp-out. "No, that’s OK I’m full. I couldn’t eat another shrimp if I tried". Wow what a week-end of food. I have to say that I have not eaten this well at a hash camp-out since Run-a-muck at Dead Mans Ranch ‘02, when Mothsucker had the field kitchen set-up. As the afternoon passed by a rain storm came in. It was raining quite hard at times. We hung out under the house for a while watching and enjoying the rain. The neighbors Peter & Ann came by for a visit and some lunch. After the rain passed Virgin Nick made one more attempt at the slip-n-slide, did it work? not so much. Princess headed out taking Mistress Viagra to the Airport. As the afternoon went on we said our final goodbyes to Strips My Wood, Dead Peter Beater, Lil Mouth on my South, Returns From the Womb, Limp Dick, and Senior. The sun set on Orgy in The Woods 8 - Eight is Great. Porkymon, Virgin Nick, Major and myself settled down for another round of dinner and we chilled out watching Jackass two. Monday morning: I came out of the room around 8ish to make some tea and there was Virgin Nick up and about still working and cleaning up. I have to say here, Nick was a real trooper, it’s not often you see a virgin keep up with the seasoned hashers, not only did he keep up but he worked his ass off all weekend long. RT had returned at about 7:30, and the five of us finished cleaning up about 11:30. Me, Major, Nick and Porkymon went to Johnny’s BBQ for lunch, by chance coincidence we met one of Majors lake house neighbors, but that’s a story for next year.
So that’s my story and I’m stickin’ to it. I claim no voracity to the accuracy of the previous ramblings as most of it is recalled through the hundreds of pics I snapped
On-On
Anal Inspector - Corned Beef H3
Lawnmower Boy - Palatka H3
Donny
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| 04/04/07 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #472 |
Fanny Flasher and Back Bedroom Bobber |
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BEST TRAIL EVER!
No pictures? HA! Like I said, it was the BEST TRAIL EVER!
Drunk hash trash is even better! Yes, I went to the on-after for $1 drafts. Did you? If you did you would hav enjoyed some of the best breastesses Jax had to offer!
So there we were, still daylight and the hares were off! Barely off the pavement and into grass and Fanny finds a snake. I have no idea what kind it was but it was (no kidding) about 3 feet long and mostly orange in color. She ran right over it. I gotta hand it to that girl, even with her fear of snakes she handled it quite well. She even continued to lay trail past it as she was freaking. So cute jumping around like that! I did mark it with flour...
You may not think I'm drunk but you are also not seeing all the times I'm correcting typos. This is taking forever.
So, Fanny, you are not only sexy but you have balls! Sure, you freaked a bit but you finished trail (which is more than that whining batch of so-called hashers did).
Trail was most excellent. Like I said THE BEST EVER! Over at least four fences (more if you zenned trail), through flesh tearing palmetto bushes, over tons of fallen trees, through woods where you sank a foot deep into the ground, and even swamp (even though it was pretty shallow).
There were beverage checks and beer checks. Plenty of YBF for you front runners and also boob, yak, Fanny checks, and pony tails. I got to play with two but only saw one - thank you Drunk Me, Melinda, and Melissa!
Did it live up to a shiggy four? Yes, IF YOU FOLLOWED TRAIL. Cotton - you may have liked this one. Sure, that first half mile YBF was a bit unnerving but it was the Follow The Fools trail. You did see who was laying trail, didn't you? So whatcha expect?
Okay, it wasn't marked every ten feet so you could find it easily. It's not supposed to be! DUH! Stop whining and drink! Okay, I will. You don't have to yell. Much better!
Yes, Fanny, it was a live snake. I went back after trail (actually to add it to my newly acquired hashshit) but it was GONE!
Even though I got the hashshit for some reason. I still don't understand why I couldn't bend my elbow but I did get beer into my mouth. Redwing put a cast on my arm? That dude has too much time on his hands...
BEST TRAIL EVER!
Beer was had, shiggy seemingly avoided, and there was much rejoicing! Sort of....
Bobber
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| 03/03/07 |
Chuck Whoreass |
You can't take these wankers anywhere... |
Kerb Crawler, Ralph Macchio, Square One Bouncer |
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So there we were. I was at Square One, a rather nice place in San Marco. Just before then I left Jizzine (GTHO)'s farewell get-together at the Wing House, where the waitresses look like a fistful of "after" photos from a Ponte Vedra plastic surgeon's office. I had a fresh pint in my hand and was sitting at a table with CHiPs, Scarlet O'Whora, Ball Park Franks, and Ball Park's Italian girlfriend, whose name unfortunately escapes me at the time. I was drunk when I first met her, so it doesn't count. Kerb was playing wingman for his friend Keith from the artillery regiment, in which Kerb once served. It turns out that Keith has special immunity.
If only Kerb had that same special immunity from bouncers (and his wife).
Keith was making significant headway with some "cougars" (read about them at Wikipedia) but had to duck out for a piss. In the meantime, Kerb asked the residents of a neighboring table if we could take one if their chairs. There was a guy at that table who looked like Ralph Macchio. The resulting situation, coincidentally, took a trajectory reminiscent of Ralph Macchio's career. Straight down. All the way to goddamned China.
When Kerb asked these people if he could take one of their unused chairs, the girl at the table said that it was okay to do so. Kerb was being drunk and flamboyant, and Ralph commented that he should just "take the chair and sit the fuck down." Please note that I use the quotes loosely. This apparently seemed to rub Kerb the wrong way, because before I knew it I found myself retraining Kerb, caught in the middle of a low-level bar fight. How the yuppies stared! Men using their hands in violence! Once I was convinced that the tomfoolery was over I backed off. Kerb then went for Ralph again. At this point the bouncer swooped in, steely-eyed and merciless, and delivered Kerb to the street before he knew what happened. Or before I knew, for that matter.
Keith came out fresh from his piss but it was time to go. It was the nicest bar that I ever got kicked out of. On on to Sherwoods!
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| 02/10/07 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash #463 (Lolla-Bud-Zoola) |
Cirrhosis of the River, Flying Meatballs, Sphincter Sicle |
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So there we were.......A thirsty pack of about 50 strong outside of a beautiful building on the northern edges of Jacksonville on a beautiful day. How could life be any better than this? After instructing the pack, the three hares left. A rousing version of Father Abraham was led by stand-in RA VO. Shortly thereafter, the pack made the pilgrimage to the inner sanctuary of the Budweiser factory. Generally taking a "tour" of a building/plant involves a "guide" and "learning." But we are hashers and have no use for things as trivial as that. Get us to the beer and fast. Free beer was had by all. Hershey, Queer Beer, and 3D challenged some under-aged ruffians to a friendly game of bubble hockey and should have been sanctioned with competitive behavior, but by the time circle started everyone had forgotten about that. Besides, I believe they lost. Eventually it was decided that the pack should begin the trail. At the first intersection just outside the factory the pack was already befuddled about which way trail was leading. This happened even though a good portion of the pack knew where we were headed. (Head, Who said head?) After checking out all the possibilities, the last one was indeed the only non-YBF. A non-eventful first section of the trail led us to Snookers, a pool hall somewhere within walking distance of the start. A rumor was started that it was going to be one beer each due to the size of the cups and price of the pitchers. This can neither be confirmed or denied at this time.
After some frothy beverages the pack continued their search for the hares. Through a development and a school yard; thwarted by YBFs; round and round we went. Eventually, off in the distance, could it be? Gods be good it was! A piece of TP hanging from a branch! We're still on trail! Through the woods this time, we ended up at a ditch. Not to be deterred, the pack forged on. Fertilize Her, however, was tripped up by a submerged log and ended up face first in the water, completely submerged. He was followed by Bobber boyscouting and carrying 3D across, though I'm sure he gained much pleasure from this act. Fishing line was stretched across the trail, tripping up somoe of the pack. But, thankfully, no one was hurt at this time. Another beer check was found upon exiting the woods, this time with Jello shots. A brief rest, some more beverages, and it was back to the tracking.
Down the railroad tracks we went. Physics experiments involving a tire and a gravel pile were performed. Into a stream and blackberry bushes the trail continued. Legs were cut up and bloodied, yet still the pack pushed on, driven only by their insatiable desire for more beer. Trail went into a parking lot for tractor trailers, out of the forest and there at the end, like a beacon shining in the darkest night was the ON-IN. Tears of joy welling up in their eyes, the pack was reunited with the three hares at last.
But wait! Where's Queer Beer? No one knows nor has seen him for hours. Finally, a call comes in and he is safe at the Cracker Barrel. Now everyone is wondering how he ended up there. Long story shorter, it involved a hit to the head, 9A, and the desire to get to civilization. Not much else is known, but he was safe.
A platter was set for the hungry pack. Cirrhosis grilled burgers. The bartenders kept the pitchers filled with beer. And then circle started. The typical violations were called out (FRB, FBI, DFL, analverseries, etc...). There was also the return of the hash shit. Senior Spitizen was on her knees for what seemed like hours as the pack chided her for losing it AGAIN. No vote was necessary, she would continue to hold on to it and maybe this time keep it safe. Limp Dick kept his testicles out for most of circle in what was described as "The joke that keeps on giving." Eventually we moved inside and held Erections for the new mismanagement. Kerb Krawler was voted as GM; Aquabator as Hash Cash; Redwing Hoover as Hare Raiser; Back Bedroom Bobber was woken from a passed out sleep on a table to find he was the new Beermeister; Hump My Stump took over the haberdashery. Chuck Whoreass then ended circle from his new position as RA with Swing Low Sweet Chariot, and much rejoicing was had by all.
|
|
| 01/03/07 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #457 |
Flying Meatballs |
| |
|
So there we were, standing in the near empty parking lot. One by one they came, hashers to the core, dedicated to finding the sacred brew and tempting fate on Meatball's trail. As the torrential rains soaked us to the bone we braved the elements and gathered in a crude circle. What words that were said were brief and barely heard over the howling wind. The hare was off and the pack soon to follow. Even the cool guy baseball cap lights of the hare would not help him on this dark and dreary night. Not a mark could be seen as we crossed parking lots, roads and sidewalks. About a half mile later trail abruptly stopped in front of Dick's Wings. The trivia crowds huddling indoors from the storm were horrendous and, unable to fit at the bar, the thirsty and hungry hashers left this YBF and backtracked toward start. Now that the rain was lessening we were speeding along, hot on the heels of the hare. Splashing through puddles and cruising down the pavement we thought Mother Nature would assault us again but that never happened. Ahead lay the On-In (at The Pub) and the pack ventured into the dry, warm, establishment to escape the elements. Trail was ended a rudimentary circle was formed, pizza and beer were had, and there was much rejoicing....
|
|
| 11/22/06 |
Bobber |
We don't need no stinkin' keys! (Pre-Turkey Day Trail) |
Senior Spitizen and Face Plant Puke Princess |
| |
So there I was...
Crappy day at work... Four cases of beer all on ice... Time to kill before trail...
Trail? If I start emptying cans now I may not make it to trail. Hmmmm... I already have the hashshit so do I really need to go on trail? Maybe sit in a dark spot at the far end of the parking lot watching the thirsty hashers at start freezing and wondering where the beer truck was...
And then the phone call.
“Come. Drink with me,” said the sultry voice. Such words rarely passed my ears and I was hoping it wasn’t necessarily in that order. Drink alone or drink with a woman who sounded so tempting? A brainless decision – to the bar I went.
We met, talked, and drank then it was trail time. Not only was it trail time but it was time for the lovely harriette to lock her keys in the car. In search of a metal coat hanger we re-entered the bar to the jeers of the drunken locals saying that was the quickest quickie ever. It quickly changed to laughter as the tale of the lost keys was told. One local offered his fist to break a window and another a brick but then the bartender suggested the Autozone down the street may have something.
Off we went and in she went, shaking her stuff and working it to the best of her advantage. Within 20 seconds two testosterone filled males led her outside and produced a metal coat hanger from a car. While they stood there still holding in that beer belly we drove back to the secured car. I stil think I saw them holding hands and skiping back inside. Jacksonville is gay, HEY!
“I’ve done this before,” the lady without the keys said as she began to unbend the wire. Just then the co-hare called saying the kilt wearing out-of-towner was at start and had a slim jim with him. Within minutes he was retrieved and within 30 seconds the lock was open.
So to return to a few paragraphs ago, it was trail time. About eight were there that night - the unlucky few not invited to a sex toy part it seems. (pause for daydreaming of the demonstrations...) It certainly explained why only one harriette was present and why the stores were sold out of batteries.
A sloppy circle was had, introductions were blown off, and the hares were given a three minute head start. All but one of the pack got in the non-strenuous autohashing conveyances (cars) and we were off. The autohashers paused at the on-after site in hopes of a shorter trail but it was not to be. The one actually on trail continued through the parking lot and so did we.
A funny thing happened on the way to the on-on. The hares were snared! Although I was beertrucking I actually jumped out and exerted myself to grab both hares around the waist. I should have grabbed higher. Basking them in my high beams we continued to the on-in behind the strip mall.
Circle was a bit more organized this time, proper courtesies to the hares for a trail for the record books as being one of the shortest but best we’ve had. Birthdays, back-sliders, and analversaries were also honored and then came the passing of the hashshit. The keyless one took it with dignity, as she always did, saying we’d never see it again. Then she fed us. It was a very good spread, the food that is, and for such a small crowd we devoured most of it. Being still early and our pre-Thanksgiving trail completed, we reconvened at the on-after. We polished off two pitchers as we waited a few minutes for them to go on sale at 9. Hashers know a good deal when they drink it. All was good, more hashers & friends arrived, many pitchers were drained then refilled, gropes were given, skirts were looked up, and there was much rejoicing.
Bobber
Happy Thanksgiving!
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|
| 11/01/06 |
Back Bedroom Bobber |
Got Your Meat Drapes? |
Redwing Hoover |
| |
So there we were...
I'm haulin' ass late out of work and trying to figure out how to get beer, ice, and gas, out of this monkey suit, and to trail without having to donate my much needed beer money to Johnny Law. I really need to add air to my tires. They shouldn't have squealed that much. Well, maybe.
Th Great G must have been looking after me because there wasn't a line at the check-out and I hit all the lights green on the way home. A quick hi and bye at home and I was back on the road.
As the cops hit the ATM for more donut money the hashers met at the other end of the parking lot. Proudly wearing my Beer Delivery Guy shirt I actually beat the hare to start. Coolers were opened and the ice cold beer was freed from its aluminum prison.
Our hare, Redwing, finally showed after prelaying his trail (he denied it of course), the virgin was debriefed, and trail began. Okay, fine, more beer was had first. We even had bums come by to tell us of how his car broke down in Bermuda and how he needed cash for bus fare to go get it. I guess he didn't notice all of us were drinking and the coolers sitting on my tailgate since he never asked for a beer. Then the Meat Monger girl, who was cute, tried to sell us prime USDA steaks form her hi-tech freezer in the back of her pick-em-up truck. Tramp told her it'd be thawed by the time we finished running but she even said she'd deliver to our house, cash up front of course. Yeah, right. We weren't that drunk and she wasn't that cute.
So now we were off on trail. YBF's, climbing cement walls, and through construction we went. The beer check was a welcum site even though the locals came out to ask what was going on. Everything was cool and Tramp schmoozed things over. As we crossed 95 – yes, we crossed it – we searched for the free pee but none was to be had. The cars got lucky, I guess.
At the On-In we were missing Hindenburg but rumor said she went back to start. Tramp had to use the toidy so copped a squat behind the dumpster.
Right then tow cars on the other end of the parking lot turned their headlights on. Great timing, I must say. Did that stop her? No, but her complaining caused us male types to line up in front of her. She now had her own personal Meat Drape to protect her feigned modesty. Strange how the cars suddenly left.
Anyhow, circle was had, the virgin Virginia was de-virginized (again), and there was muuuuuch rejoicing!
Bobber
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|
| 10/25/06 |
Back Bedroom bobber |
Of Ghosts And Goblins |
Cock Jockey, Majorbation, Just Jenni, and Preteen Spirit |
| |
So there we were...
Once upon a moonless night.
Creatures did come – what a fright!
Vampires, sailors, and skeletons,
Even short skirted dancing ones.
Into the darkness four sped east.
While the rest drank the Bud and the Beast.
Soon they became restless and did follow trail.
As they went "On On!" they would wail.
The ghouls crossed the graveyard then found rest.
At a sanctuary of elixir contained in chests.
Continue they did on their search
For more ale to quench their thirst.
Onlookers stared in disbelief and fright
As walkers went left and runners went right.
At symbols they stopped, flights shone
At flashes of skin and sometimes bone
To the end ghosts and ghouls did arrive
One was late but he did survive.
A good trail, praises they did sing.
And to end this tale – there was muuuuch rejoicing!
Bobber
|
|
| 10/18/06 |
Bobber |
Mud, Muck, and the Transit Authority |
Back Bedroom Bobber |
| |
So there we were.
The pack was smaller than normal, 13 plus the hare. Still good numbers.
Did the reduced numbers have to do with the rain we had?
No.
Did hashers have anything better to do on a Wednesday night?
No.
Were they scared of the shiggy 4?
Yes!
15 pounds of flour, an industrial size roll of TP, an five chalk sticks later and trail was done.
But was it a shiggy 4?
Did it have wooded trail blazing? Yep, some wooded spots to get through but not too much. More palmettos and briars than woods.
Fences? Oh yes, there were fences. Cement block, chain link, and construction barriers – all types were there for the pack to climb over!
Sadly, there were no garbage dumps but we did have water! Oh, yeah, definitely water you could wade through! The tide had come in so it was a bit deeper than when scouted too. Our illustrious virgin went face first into the water when he tripped on a submerged log! Chuck Whoreass said something about getting malaria in his dick. Or was that a leech?
The mud and muck was present including the ripe stank of swamp gas. A few, including the hare, slipped and fell on their ass.
The snakes and furry animals left us alone that night but the hare did clear out at least four spiders as trail was laid.
We even had a token homeless camp near A1A!
So was it a shiggy 4? Definitely more than a 3 but no gators or swimming like in a 5....
Yep, a 4!
Let's not forget the construction site with Chuck playing Army Guy in the trenches.
And also the near-snare of the hare as the water area was being finished but the pack was already approaching.
Or watching all those sexy harriettes eat taco....
Then laughing about a close look at a JTA bus....
And there was muuuuch rejoicing!
Bobber
|
|
| 10/18/06 |
Jizzine (GTHO) |
Bobber's got his beer goggles on |
Back Bedroom Bobber |
| |
So there we were, leaving the parking lot after all the fun was had. 5 people piled into Bobber's impala, or was it 6? Bobber was wearing some stylin beer goggles and commenting on how it made all the women look that much better. He stopped Hindenburg's Hash Van to advise them they were going to the wrong way to the start. He then proceeded with all 8 cylinders through an intersection. Out of the back seat is heard a blood curdling SCREAM that reverberated off the walls of the overpass. A JTA bus had the right of way since his light was green but Bobber's beer goggles told him different. Even though Tomacock Chop tried to warn him of the sight of all passenger's lives passing before his eyes, Bobber was too enthralled at having all the women in his chariot.
My throat hurt for 2 days after that because of the scream. My abs hurt all evening because all of us were laughing so hard it hurt.
We all love Bobber but he's a SHITTY DRIVER!!!
ALL HAIL TO THE BEER GOGGLES!!!
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|
| 09/27/06 |
Bobber |
The Braille Trail |
Senior Spitizen, Escort Service, Salty Jello, and Just Megan |
| |
So there I was....
Out in No Man's Land.
Beyond the boundaries of sanity.
Definitely nearing Boonieville – there wasn't even an On-After bar nearby!
But there WAS trail.
Life was good.
There I sat, behind Kohl's, in the bed of my truck with a cooler of Bud Light.
The radio was playing, the sun was setting, and I kept watching the parking lot from around the corner of the building.
Finally around 7:30 I saw the harriettes depart.
I expected a flock of females but there were just three. No matter, they were harriettes and that was what was important.
As someone once told me "it's all about the girls".
Life was good.
Around the sand dunes they did some, following white marks strategically placed earlier.
Past the shopping carts positioned for hasher races they climbed in the truck.
The bag of flour must've had a leak, dropping what was thought to be twelve blobs, as we continued behind the mall.
It was a very quick trip to the beer check, much faster than it was for the pack.
Through some condo's, onto the sidewalk, and into some construction
Even with 5 lbs of flour, two sticks of chalk, and all the TP that was used they still had problems following trail.
No matter - we had beer.
No matter - I was surrounded by hot harriettes!
Life was very good.
We were joined by yet another most fine harriette at the beer check and the laying of trail did continue.
Down past the partially built homes.
Standing naked in the darkness.
Did I say naked?
We did decorate them and eagerly wrote our names upon the wall.
If the pack had made it that far they'd know what I was talking about.
A false trail down the dirt road then into the ravine we went.
A beautiful harriette using her nice legs was merrily running ahead distributing TP here and there.
Another a sensual body a few feet in front of me with her pony tail bouncing so invitingly.
And a third vixen by my side teasing me about being in the dark
Alone
With these amazing girls.
(pause for effect)
Life was definitely good.
(I wish)
Later, as we climbed out of the ravine we made it through more houses and back to the road.
The fourth harriette did pick us up and, autohashing, we completed trail with the beer check being the On In as well.
A slight problem was discovered in that no hashers had yet reached the beer check.
Even with our delay in the last half of the trail we were still ahead of the pack.
In a while the pack did arrive.
The RA, looking at his wrist mounted cuckoo clock, deemed it was past his bedtime and trail would end without doing the second half.
Some anguish was felt by the harriettes after all their HARD work LAYING trail.
The wall was not seen.
False trails were not explored.
Bitching was heard about missing trail marks.
But we did have trail,
the pack was together,
songs were sung,
accusations were made,
beer was had,
and there was much rejoicing!
Much thanks to Senior, Escort, Salty, and Just Megan for everything!
Bobber
|
|
| 05/31/06 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #419 |
Bobber and Wacks |
| |
So there we were...
Two old and feeble hares, dilapidated from countless minutes of swilling the precious Ale for which we hash, Wacks and I were there.
Initially I thought it was going to be a sausage fest but then, lo and behold, Ditchin did arrive. She brought her own newly wed sausage (FMB) with her but she was the first of the female persuasion to grace us with her presence (others did arrive as well).
As the pack assembled my nervousness increased. Not only was trail not fully scouted but we had numerous overachievers present. Slick, Meatballs, and Sphincter were there. Even a few imported track and field all star jocks from God knows where showed up.
Yes, a snare was evident this day... Luckily the hashshit was not present. Apparently the weekend festivities were a bit much for the Keeper of the Hashshit. Whilst she did attend Hedon she would not be at this trail.
Off we went, truly running like the scared rabbits... er... hares we were. Making up trail as we went, often confusing ourselves we did scatter our marks along the earth. False trails, countbacks, intersections, we used our full arsenal to avoid capture by the beer-thirsty hounds.
Trail followed the powerlines then did split encircling a sink hole (Florida retention pond) and continued into a school playground. Hashers love playgrounds so that would give us some additional time. Wandering through the cars in a condo parking lot and back into the shiggy it did go to emerge at the first and only beer check.
A quick reload of flour from my pre-positioned hash truck and we were off. Twenty feet into the field tragedy did strike and the bottom blew out of our first flour bag. What was to be a Thor check was now marked with a clear 12 foot line showing the way. This was a set back but the hounds would soon be upon us so we continued, opening the second bag. Later we did learn that the autohasher Just Connie (who stole TP from us for her own personal use) rubbed out that huge white mark before the pack arrived. I am sure this bought us more time as it made our first trail mark even further from the beer check. Thank you!
In and out of small pine trees we did meander using them as concealment as trail was quite straight at this point. JTB was in sight and we pushed our beer deficient bodies to continue. Nearing the construction at the St. Johns/JTB intersection Wacks spied a large dirt mound and exclaimed that it was a great place for a boob check. And it was. And we did. A 40 foot mound of dirt with a 10 foot tall boob check near it's top was dubbed Mount Boob Check. This was a Kodak Picture Spot if ever there was!
Up the large dirt mounds soon to be an overpass trail did go. Down the other side, past the oversized Tonka trucks and along 9A we continued, constantly listening for whistles and looking over our shoulder for the FRB. Through the fence, over the runoff area for another sinkhole, and into the trees we laid trail. Feeling too much blood in out alcohol system, we realized the end was in sight! We made it to the On-In just moments ahead of the pack. Not more than two minutes later the FRB, Sphincter, rounded the corner and finished trail. Meatballs was right on his heels. Checking his GPS (technology on trail) he mentioned the hash info was a bit off. While it was published to be about 4 miles it ended up at about 5.4. Oops.
But everyone made it (Just Danny was swept), beverage was consumed, we were not snared, we didn't get the hashshit ...and there was much rejoicing!
Bobber
|
|
| 03/08/06 |
Bobber |
Boob Checks and Brass Poles |
Ditchin Dick and Hershey Squirts |
| |
So there I was...
On yet another quest.
For beer?
Yes.
Always.
But this time there was more.
I was as pliable as a bit of silly putty.
The fun, soft, pink substance that newsprint would stick to.
It can be squished and squeezed between your fingers
It would bounce off of walls.
And bouncing I did.
Donning my Viking horns I joined the pack.
My trusty tankard topped off in my hand.
The revelry began.
Anal let me play with her traffic cone. That sounds kinky just in itself. I still wonder what she was doing with it in the first place… Covering the tip with a plastic vessel (for protection of course!) I waved it to and fro and stuck it here and there (sorry Ditchin').
I was the Jester.
The Joker.
The Traffic Cone Poker.
Evidently I distracted Hershey enough that she began to hare the trail in the wrong direction.
The trail was laid quite well. Go here, not there. Directions were precise to provide the maximum pleasure. Evidently the harriettes had experience laying. Trail.
The pack did find the beer check without the beer truck being present. As I scribed "Where's the Beer?" on the pavement it was seen off to the side. Perhaps it was there all along. Regardless, it was missing a very important part of the beer check – the boob check. Once again, I took my handy chalk phallic symbol and etched the ground. Beer was had, breasteses were beheld (or at least seen) and all was good.
We ended near the start and then the fun began. The on-after was at Crossroads. What a lovely place that was. After the initial greeting, of course. It seems the building adjacent to the strip club is a church of sorts.
Convenient, isn’t it? Kind of like a drive through service to sin the get saved. One stop shopping. But tonight the churchgoers did not desire to save us. Instead they threatened to have our vehicles towed should we park in front of the church even though it shares the same lot. Perhaps threatened is not quite accurate but when we are told that is a tow away zone and the only people who can call the tow truck are us (and no one is that drunk), the dancers (why? We give them money) and the churchgoers. I would have thought the churchgoers would be happy to have us go to the club since we would be someone they can save and redeem and thereby giving purpose to their lives.
We parked elsewhere.
And still went to see the dancing ladies.
Oh, what a night. The hashers invaded the strip club and the beer still flowed. Early on they danced for us, we enjoyed the lithe bodies twisting and undulating on stage, and we tipped them. Time passed and many hashers had left then the tables turned. Now our own hasher, Cum Chucker, got on the stage and got the tips. Her pants came off, the pole was worked, and jaws hit the floor. One waitress was real interested in Senior and wanted her on stage but it was not to be. A crowd gathered and the tipping began. Let's just say the management who said CC could dance then told her to stop because she was pulling money away from the other dancers. Pity. She did a real good job too. I guess you could say the shit hit the fan.
Or the macaroni hit the floor.
Oh yes, you heard correctly. Just as our Hasher Honey of the Brass Pole did leave the stage so did the on-in food from Ophelia's body. Perhaps a re-naming is in order.
Pasta Puker.
Pasta Pumper.
Lunch Launcher.
Stripper Spewer.
Noodloozer. (Noodle Oozer/Noodle Loser)
Runway Retcher.
Heave Ho.
Oral Discharge.
Food for thought. Anyone for seconds on macaroni?
And there was much rejoicing...
Bobber
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| 02/22/06 |
Bobber |
The Camel Toe Trail |
Flying Meatballs and Just Heather Locklear |
| |
So there I was...
It was a warm FeBREWary evening, even by Florida standards and despite the harsh conditions we did have trail.
The beverage of choice arrived early and brought Wacks along for the ride. Violet, the co-hare, was getting nervous wondering where trail was going to go (Scouting?!? What’s that?), and everyone started to arrive.
The hares took off on trail while we looked foolish with Father Abraham. After giving Just Heather a decent head start (because she was handicapped with Meatballs as co-hare) we set off.
There was slight shiggy on the trail up to the first beer check. The shrubbery wasn’t an issue but weaving between moving cars was really invigorating.
Looking back I wish I had consumed more at the beer check. The trail left the coolers and we began our trek across the Southside Desert. On and on it went. Sand for many feet – yards even! Such a wild place it was. I heard rumors some harriettes tried to sell Wacks to the desert dwellers but they actually paid the girls to keep him! As I crossed the vast expanse of sand I could see camel toes everywhere. No – it was not my imagination! In the sand were strange marks, looking like camel toe. It seemed Stupid’s shoes left camel toe shaped marks in the sand as he passed. Perhaps my mind was in the gutter again (never really left) but I swear it is true!
We eventually wandered out of the desert and came upon the marking of an oasis – the B check symbol. Such a sad time it was, though, when it turned out to be a mirage. Although it was night the sun must have been playing tricks on us. The marking were there but the coolers were only in our imagination. Seconds passed – minutes even! – and then even more seconds passed. More sandy people came from the desert seeking the Golden Nectar of Life. Off in the distance lights were seen. Soon a vehicle approached, opened it’s doors, and the mirage became reality.
Following the path of those scared little hares, the hounds invaded a construction area. Over, around and through the buildings they searched for signs like Elmer looking for Bugs.
Shhhhhh! Be vewwy vewwy quiet! I’m hunting wabbits!
Down the street, past barbed wire fences, and over more cars we did go. What a trail it was! Finally, we made it to the On-In. The virgin hare (now de-floured) was no longer a virgin, beer and food were had, and there was muuuuuch rejoicing!
Bobber
|
|
| 02/11/06 |
Bobber |
Our lager who art in barrels, hallowed be thy drink... |
Flying Meatballs and... Flying Meatballs! |
| |
So there I was....
As I pulled into the parking lot of the Birthplace of Brew I could hear the cheers coming from the back of my truck. Over 100 relatives of the Anheuser Busch family just chilling in the hash coolers were, like many of us, looking forward to returning to the womb. Many of those beverages may have not been from this particular location but all were family nonetheless.
Many connoisseurs of beer, or 'common sewers' as the case may be, were there for this grand event. As we stood outside the Sanctuary of Suds, vessels were filled with 'barley soda', the traditional "Jacksonville Is Gay" Rainbow Shots were had, and soon the brew-ha-ha did begin.
After the hare departed and introductions were held, the surrogate RA glanced at his watch. He astutely noted it was just striking beer o'clock - the exact time we were to enter the Sacred Temple. After the ritualistic horse-ing around with the Clydesdale we did enter the hallowed halls. The elevator ride was an especially festive time - our bodies rubbing and moving against each other although my buns did think the glass was a bit chilly.
The Temple was a warm place, the smells of Creation were in the air. Such a wonderful fragrance it was! We could see through the windows all the devices used to make the Golden Elixir as well as pictures on the wall of the history of hop juice. Hop juice, not HOPS juice. I have heard there is a difference! (Sorry Hops) Many small shrines were also scattered throughout the building and I took a moment to bow and pay my respects.
Into the Hospitality Room we did venture! Beer Fairies, attendees waiting to attend to our thirst (for that IS what attendees do), did provide us glasses of grog for our enjoyment! It was a veritable Beer Garden with many types to choose from. Beer Tap One, Beer Tap Two, Beer Tap Three, Bottle, One, Bottle Two, it went on and on. This place was a Hasher's Valhalla.
Soon the Overachievers did grow restless. They sensed a shiggy trail and were anxious to begin. While the Walkers and Autohashers ("Everyone oughta hash" - Redwing Hoover) kept the Beer Bitches... er... Beer Fairies busy (after all, Jacksonville is gay, hey!) we left the Hospitality Room.
Now I must take a moment to thank someone who stopped me from doing a most heinous thing - I nearly went on the shiggy trail with the Beer Truck keys in my pocket. As I strode down the hall I was called for by Senior Spitizen who inquired in her own slurred way of the Beer Truck and dry bags. Were it not for her I would surely have received the hashshit (if they remember to bring it) and many a hasher would have been beereft and thirsty. Thank you, Senior.
We now return to our program not already in progress.
So I left the Hospitality Room again (which I think it should be renamed the Hopsitality Room since the hops beverage is enjoyed there) down the hall, past the purveyor of gifts, and into the most wonderful place ever - the Nursery! Windows to the left! Windows to the right! Through both you could see those beautiful silver incubators,
one after the other,
for as far as the eye could see.
Okay, I couldn't see very far because of the tears of joy running down my face but there were quite a lot of them. Large silver casks lined the walls. All those cases of beer were just waiting to be packaged for hasher consumption. Oh, the joy I felt!
Onto trail we went. The shiggy trail was much enjoyed indeed however it was a bit strange - it was a sausagefest of four. That's right - all the harriettes opted to autohash or take the Turkey Trail. Meatballs, our illustrious hare must have known this for he left no boob checks but did put a YAK out there for us. Thank you very little. Later, as we came out of the Eagle Trail, we saw the Turkeys headed (who said head?!?) our way.
To our dismay and disbelief, there was no beer at the marked beer check. That's right! Thirsty, parched, and near dead from lack of alcohol in our beer system (it was at least ten minutes since the Turkeys left the Hopsitality Room) the pack did see both the Beer Near and Beer Check, the almighty Signs of Salvation, but to have our hopes dashed away because the beer truck was not present. I am at a loss for words.
Into more shiggy we did go. I enjoyed the swamp so much that I decided to fall into it. Not once, but twice. Girth had a good laugh. The rank, polluted, swamp water was so refreshing! My nipplerometers did register it at a brisk 56 degrees. Yep, just a tad bit nipply it was.
To my great joy the second beer check was actually there! Many laughs were had as my soaked body did approach but I cared not. Not only did I look foolish and stupid (he wasn't there, by the way) but I was also cold as hell. What I mean was I cared not because I only had thoughts of a refreshing beverage. The few jello shots that were left for us by the autohashers were finished off and we continued our search for beer. Past the dobermans, over the barbed wire fence, and along the highway we followed trail. Into the On-In we went and out onto the beeranda where autohashers were already playing beer pong. Brew, burgers, and boobs were had (or at least seen), circle was held, and Erections concluded.
Indeed, there was muuuuuuuch rejoicing!
Bobber
(formerly known as your Beermeister)
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| 02/08/06 |
Bobber |
Trains, Drains, and Autohashers |
Ballpark Frank & Sir Wacksalot |
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So there I was... dreaming again. And what a dream it was! It must have been a dream for I haven’t seen it’s like in over a year and strange happenings were happening.
There was an assembly, a circle if you will. Hats, scarves, pants, shorts, boots, flip flops, sneakers. Diverse accoutrements for such a unique group. Two had left, the others stood, watched, and drank then followed shortly after on a Quest For Beer.
Roads with branches were found leading nowhere. YBFs with trail past them were found. A much fabled "balloon bush" was sighted! That is a wonder of the modern world in itself. Not often do you see one this time of year. A short, brown growth springing from the grass, these are often found near entrances to mass dwellings called apartments – I don’t know why since they are all together, not apart... Beautiful multicolored balloons, tethered by a flimsy yet surprisingly strong ribbon reaching toward the sky. The darkness and temperatures had limited its growth and only two blooms were ready for picking. Picked they were.
Backtracking I did wander, retracing over what was once though of as true trail. More signs of passage were found crossing an expanse of green where, during times of sun, many hit little white balls then pretend to be dogs and chase them. Strange custom. But the marks continued across the greens leading to another wonderful discovery – a Bag O' Beer!
Now a Bag O' Beer is very similar to both the Pot O' Gold protected be leprechauns and Excalibur, the Sword in the Stone. The Bag O' Beer is sometimes a mirage seen by those on trail who are dry, parched, and near death from the lack of beverage and I was quite parched. The Bag O' Beer is a Pot O' Gold sought after by all hashers. Like Excalibur, only a true hasher can pull the brew from the Bag. Luckily it was not a mirage and I did indeed draw forth an ice cold draught. Taking pity of the keepers of the greens and not wanting to litter (and knowing I was DFL) I took the Bag and its contents on trail with me. Portable beer checks are a wonderful thing.
More marks were followed and the pack was seen going into the tree line. This would be the last I'd see of them and at points in my wanderings I did wonder if they survived. I thought of them fondly and often toasted them with another can from the Bag O' Beer.
Into the trees I did proceed, branches threatening to pop my balloons while muck sucked at my shoes and briars tore at my clothes. A creek was happened upon and the markings led to an entrance of a cement cave. A foreboding sight it was - an eerie green glow coming from the entrance. Taunts of turning back and being a turkey were scribed above the opening challenging me to continue. I ventured into the icy water, the cold spreading up my calves, over my thighs, and stopping just deep enough to alter my voice slightly. Undaunted and with true blue balls I splashed my way into the 'cave'. I could hear the roar of the metal machines racing overhead as I worked my way through.
The marsh and muck continued on the far side and led to a ravine. Partaking of another treasure from my Bag O' Beer I considered my choices. Given a choice to brave the chilly waters of unknown depth and consistency or straddle a metal pipe two feet in diameter to cross the ravine I opted for the latter. With the shaft firmly between my legs I moved across the ditch. Dismounting, I could see the wet spots where my crotch touched. What an interesting pattern I did make.
The quest for beer continued as my last brew was consumed. Sadness overcame me as the Bag O' Beer was now just a bag. A sign was seen advertising "free facials" and my mind wandered. I'm not sure if it was from having beverage in my body or if the withdrawal symptoms were starting but the thoughts were most excellent. The trail led to tracks. Upon those tracks were trains – one stationary and one moving to who knows where. Climbing upon the first train I waited for the second to pass. The train seemed endless but I enjoyed the warmth of another while waiting. Once gone voices were heard, whistles sounded, and more beer was found.
Rejoining the others who went on the Quest For Beer I watched the sharing of many bananas, the huddling of chilled bodies, and my frozen vessel lost from another trail. A frosted mug it was nestled in a block of solid ice. My lower half drying (yet still cold) and with my balloons in hand the assembly dispersed. My dream had come to an end but it was good. And there was much rejoicing!
Bobber
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| 11/23/05 |
Bobber |
Pre-Turkey Day Trail |
Flying Meatballs |
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Hershey and QB were there when I arrived. Good combo – beer and haberdashery. More hashers showed up but it as a smaller pack than normal. Princess, Ditchin, and Wacks also came for the pre-holiday hashtivities. I think Preteen was there but my memory isn’t what it used to be. We even had PDA, a wanker from Chicago, visiting saying what we thought was chilly temps felt like summer to him. Our hare, Flying Meatballs, shortened trail to allow for a longer (and warmer) on-after. The pack left together and returned the same way. That’s right – the entire pack was both FRB and DFL. Not very often that happens at trail! Hershey was, of course, our FBI. And I got rid of the hashshit. Ditchin was nice enough to give me a camera for trail that had a nearly dead battery. I think it took two pictures before it died completely. Perhaps the group shot in front of the rainbow "Jacksonville Is Gay" van will someday be posted. Although she tried to pass it off to FMB he pointed out she was told there were spare batteries in the car. Oops! So our only autohasher got the hashshit. And there was much rejoicing... (at least by me!)
Bobber
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| 11/16/05 |
Bobber |
Bobber Banned from Boobs |
Girth Vader |
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I think I am still stunned from that night. I know it happened because the proof is in the beer truck at this very moment – the hashshit.
I arrived about ten minutes before seven and the parking lot was full. Not full of hashers, mind you, but rather of the cars from non-hashing civilians going to the restaurants and stores in that area. As soon as I drove down the row with hashers in it I was graced the sight of Senior bouncing toward the truck. Ah, a wonderful sight that was! (pause for effect)
While she appeared to want to hug me through the window what she really wanted was my payload. No, not that! The coolers of beer. A rough day at work playing with her Box generated some thirst it seemed and when she wants satisfaction nothing will hold her back! (pause for effect)
After making a loop around the parking lot I was fortunate enough to snag a spot quite close to the pack. Tops were popped, vessels filled and drained, and then the mobile bar arrived.
QB and Hershey brought fixin’s for mixed drinks. Welcum back QB! Rum, vodka, and other stuff was passed around and enjoyed. It was a very nice touch on this special occasion. It was time to mingle and I gave a good squeeze to everyone there. That was nice! The front parking lot was too populated, so circle was moved around back. After all that searching for a parking spot (it took at least 30 seconds) the beer truck was moved behind the building.
More hashers arrived, the pack growing to near 40. I quietly let out as sigh of relief because I had four coolers loaded with cold beverage and two backup cases chilled in the truck. The hashshit would not be mine, or so I thought. Being playful I horsed around a bit with Fanny but an errant flick of the hand ended up smacking her boob. The swelling was severe and many volunteers offered to apply direct pressure. Oh, wait that’s not it. Would you believe she complained and I was soon banned by the pack from participating in boob checks?!! You’d better believe it! And, in the end, I got the hashshit for it as well! Double Punishment. DP? Did someone say DP????
About half of the pack had flip flops and, of course, the hares felt they were exempt. I’m not sure why. Perhaps they were afraid of actually finding some shiggy. Trail was lazy, the SLUTs in Atlanta would have been right at home. Sadly, on trail I was secluded from the showing of breastesses. I fear I shall never recover. I will have to go through a rehab process by seeing as many as possible to erase this event from my mind. Beer was had, the lack of virgins lamented, the circle was closed, and food was consumed. The on-after helped QB become acclimated to Jax again. Life was good and there was much rejoicing...
Bobber
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| 11/09/05 |
Bobber |
The Trail Of Threes |
Sir Wacks Alot & Just Jon Boy |
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The Trail Of Threes
So there we were, brought together yet again by a common thread – BEER. The night was warm, unseasonably so for Novembeer, as we gathered for the trail.
The first of our “Three” was to be the brew. Arriving in stages it did come together. Three cars brought coolers to the start. These were combined and enjoyed by the pack.
The second “Three” were the virgins. Three virgins we had this night, two traveling together and one driving she who made him come. All waited nervously, not knowing what to expect.
The final part of the “Three” were the hares. Wacks and Just Jon Boy were the first of the trilogy. They soon parted, scattering flour and marking the streets as they went. Coming upon the beer check the hares switched. As FRB, FMB was one and Princess was selected as the other. He and Meatballs set out to the second beer check, improvising trail knowing only where they must end. The last to hare were CJ and Jets. The harriettes bounced out of sight as the pack watched. A few minutes later we would follow in pursuit of the Sacred Brew.
The highlight to the evening was the welcuming the virgins at the On-In. While Senior was stolen away by a virgin not her own, Muddy got his wish and was called by name. He entered circle with a grin and the pack cheered - there was much rejoicing!
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| 10/05/05 |
Bobber |
Tropical Storm Tammy Trash |
Sir Wacks Alot |
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Across the sky dark clouds moved in
Heavy rain still threatened to fall
Sir Wacks Alot showed sans supplies
Sort of ready to lay trail, after all.
Thinking the rain would come
We’d get soaked, wet at least
But it held off, it never came
As we drank Bud, Natty, and Beast
Aunt Jemima rolls up on his Big Wheel
Senior Spitizen sporting a new T
Hershey demonstrating some gizmo
So on trail all the harriettes could pee.
We gathered in a sort of circle
Meatballs in the center doing his thing
Sending Sir Wacks off on trail
A song for him we did sing.
Majors SUV was filled with stuff
Dry bags, vessels, and cooler of beer
Then the pack followed trail marks
Flour blobs there, TP over here.
Across parking lots and streets
On the grass and through th |
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