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Jax Hash House Harriers
A Drinking Club with a Running Problem (at least 21 years of age to participate!)
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| DATE |
WRITTEN BY |
TITLE |
HARES |
| 11/18/09 |
P33s on Small Dogs |
Jax Hash #646 |
H.R. Cuff and Stuff, PreTeen Spirit and Just Darrin |
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The Tale of the Citizen, the Boy Scout, and the Broken Trail
Co-Hares H.R. Cuff and Stuff, Just Darrin and myself, P33s on Small Dogs (f.k.a. PreTeen Spirit) laid Trail on a beautiful fall Wednesday night at Jax Beach. Just Darrin, navy friend of our former RA C*nt Cruiter, is an out-of-towner on temporary duty down near Jax, and has hashed with us several times in the past year or so.
After a short PreLube at Monkeys Uncle, the beautiful and bountiful Aquabator collected Hash Cash and our RA, RedWing Hoover conducted circle, JD did Chalk Talk, and we hares went on our way. The plan was simple (ha-ha), JD and I would lay the west of A1A two thirds of the trail and Cuff would lay the east 1/3 of the trail in reverse direction and we would meet in the middle at an Extra Credit bar, down a few beers with the Pack when they arrived, and go back on Trail. As we broke apart after running along South Beach Parkway under the JTB overpass, back at circle the pigs hassled the Pack (ha-ha CHIPS, jk), and Tigger the Gay Stripper’s showed up at Circle drunker than Cooter Brown future ex-step-dad was nearly taken into custody. But he wasn’t, and the pack was on its way.
As luck would have it, as it always seems to on those infrequent (for good reason) times I lay trail, it was a dark and moonless night. So, we dropped more flour than a Drunken Donuts baker and kept the Trail as simple as possible (that’s my story and I’m sticking to it). We first ran into trouble about a ½ mile into Trail, when as we emerged from a wooded cut-through trail connecting two cul-de-sacs and were accosted by a Citizen, owner of the property we had just skirted in the cut-through, a very angry man, who threatened our arrest for violating the sanctity of his private property. We laughed and ran on.
~20 minutes later we arrived at The Yucatan Grill, Extra Credit, on A1A, where we ordered up a round and watched the game until Cuff joined us from laying her part of the Trail. After a couple of rounds with no hounds showing up, we began to suspect shenanigans. Cuff had technology on trail (ha-ha Redwing, you didn’t do Accusations at Circle) so we called SLUT, who was with the beer truck. Only about half the pack had made it to the beer check! That was hard to understand, since the beer check was only a short way into the Trail. A short while later, Bobber and HIV arrived at the extra credit, but from a different direction than Trail. Hmmmm. They immediately whined about a lack of trail marks, but we scoffed at the accusation, knowing we hadn’t let 100 feet pass without a mark.
**** Skip aHEAD to Thursday morning… I rode back to the cut-through on my way to work this morning, and our irate Citizen had SPRAY PAINTED over an intersection mark leading to the cul de sac cut-through, spray painted over every trail mark along the road leading up to the cul de sac, spray painted the intersection in the near cul de sac leading to the cut-through, and removed the toilet paper marks in the 100 feet of wood cut through (that wasn’t even his property). Aha! ***
Eventually the half of the pack that auto-hashed (ha-ha Redwing, you didn’t do Accusations at Circle) arrived at The Yucatan Grill Extra Credit and were happily drinking there, but only a couple more hounds that had been pointed to the extra credit by beer truck made it, and them by direction of beer truck. We hares were off again, ran to the Outback Steakhouse where Cuff had started reverse laying her part of the Trail, and laid the final leg back to Target. There were a few autohashers back at the Start/Finish, but the whereabouts of the pack that was actually on Trail was a mystery. So Redwing and I went Sweeping.
During the Sweep, as we drove along the Trail route for stragglers, we discovered the second problem. A short way after the beer check, which most of the pack surprisingly found since it was after the disappeared leg of the Trail, an FRB (?) had marked a left turn on our intersection mark on South Beach Parkway. There was only one “false” mark to the left, so our “Boy Scout” led the pack to nowhere. The actual trail led ACROSS the street to the right, where RedWing and I observed the next large flour mark, intact, not 50 feet from the intersection mark, and every 50 feet or so thereafter. (Note to Boy Scout: if you mark an intersection direction for the Pack to follow, they ASSume you’re on-on. Make damn sure it’s True Trail or undo the mark.)
Redwing and I collected a couple of stragglers on our Sweep and found the remainder of the pack following the last leg of the Trail down A1A towards Target. 20 minutes later, Redwing started circle from the 2 mile, shiggy 1.5 Trail, about 10 p.m. We had a special event to recognize Face Plant Princess’ birthday, who had driven to Trail all the way from town. This being his 40th birthday, Princess, received all the ingredients of his birthday cake on his HEAD: flour, eggs, icing on the “cake”! And there was much rejoicing!
On-On
P33s on Small Dogs
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| 08/12/09 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #634 |
Hummus My Bummus and Just Travis |
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so there i was, arriving at trail over 50 minutes late. The pack had gone. The beer had gone. Oh woe is me! I locked up my truck, taking only my trusty light/d phone. Yes, i said only. Keys? Eh. Who needs 'em. Pounding the pavement i go, passing a couple walking hand in hand in the Publix parking lot. Nice, I say to myself. I slow a bit to get a better look but suddenly she turns and glares at me. Evidently she is protective of her man.
I pick up the pace, passing a homeless man but having to pause at an intersection. He move ahead and i must walk for a while on a path later to be discovered was a YBF. On true trail i go, clearly marked at ten foot intervals. No mistaking it this time until i come upon some shiggy. Three locals and a sheriff talking how hashers broke a stockade fence. Oops, not my kind of shiggy so i move on past. Woe be me when trail vanishes and it becomes obvious they did hop (and break) a fence. Not having trail i decide to backtrack and remove my shirt as a disguise. A shirt that read "hash house harriers" may not be the best thing to wear right now. Good call as a second sheriff rolls up. I look at my watch, feigning to care what numbers are displayed, and move past them.
Zen, I thought. The only way. The power of the hash is strong in this one. Hashing, he will. And so i did, going to A1A and pausing for a moment at a light. A to A trail? No marks so probably not. I catch a woman in a car glance quickly away from me, all sweaty, shiny and just in a pair of shorts. She must like my shoes, i thought. South i go, turning at the next intersection and viola! Trail! Blobs of flour no more than 10 feet distant mark my way. Left here, turn there, and I see a black truck sporting a ladder and cone backing up.
What?!! Say its not so! First losing trail because of PoPo and now no beer. 30 seconds sooner and the Golden Nectar could have soothed my parched throat. Alas, it was not meant to be. On my legs carry me and soon i see people in the distance. Walkers they be, one with beer. I soon catch them, lament about the beer truck, and am soon offered a vessel. Off I go refreshed and invigorated, soon to pass walker group two. An hour late and still not DFL - a good feeling. They ask of the sheriff so I recount the tale. Soon we are at the on-in, bikinis were on hot wet women, beer was had, and there was much rejoicing!
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| 11/29/08 |
'Cruiter |
Jax Hash #585: Spincter Sicle and Pond Scums farewell trail |
Hummus my Bummus |
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Well, it all started with the vague starting d'erections posted by the infamous Hummus My Bummus. Because, you see, there is no WM Skinner just north of JTB as the website d'erections stated. Hummus swore to the Great "G" that the info he emailed the hare raiser was accurate with WM Davis not WM Skinner. Now we all know that Cap'n Taco is a bit flaky, and occasionally known to miss something in email, but I don't believe she has ever screwed up cut and pasting d'erections...
"START: San Pablo and JTBish. From San Pablo, head (who said head?) North and make a left on WM Skinner. On the right, youll see Pablo Professional Park.. Turn right here, making sure to wave at cruiter, hoover, and Tomacock at the old folks home. Follow this road all the way back. Viola, youre there."
So, anyway, what do you do when the start location does not exist? You send AJ and the AJ cruiser to the last good intersection with beer to flag down lost hashers. Well, he found about 20 or so lost souls by the time we were ready to commence circle.
Sphincter Sicle got us all together and we blessed the hares Hummus My Bummus and Just Josh. A standard chalk talk was done with Hummus having to relieve NFHN Josh because he was putting us to sleep. They set out and the pack of 15 or so commenced to get our drink on with approximately 10 or so harriers and 6 or 7 harriettes, the hares dressed in boots and jeans scared all but one harriette (O God) out of doing trail. Apparently the hares forgot to post the need for us to wear pants for this trail... Bah, pants are for girls I say!!!
After a 10 min head start, we set out on trail. Apparently the hares decided that the use of intersections was only for chalk talk and not on their trail because within 100 yards of the start we were taking 90 degree turns without any warning, fade, intersuction, or b00bs... So there we were, VO, Pees on Teenage Small Dogs, Strip My Wood, Sphincter Sicle, Redwing Hoover, AIDS, O God, a couple NFHN hashers, and I bouncing through the palmettos tearing the hell out of our legs and trying to keep up with a trail that had no intersuctions and contractor tape hooked to trees much in the way I would expect a trail laid by Helen Keller. As much as we love some good barbed wire, we had the pleasure of climbing two 6-8 foot barbed wire fences apparently designed to keep people from visiting the Mayo clinic. Much to the dismay of the group of rabid harriers, God was able to scale up and over both barbed wire fence crossings without a single tear in her clothing.
The On~In was located behind the Publix on Hodges. The wayward soul hares neglected to arrange to have the beer brought to the end so the pack spent 30 minutes trying to arrange rides back to the start. The waiting allowed us much time to compare cuts, scrapes, and blood splatters... No Blood, No Trail... This was a trail for sure based on all the blood. After we un-f'd the On~In by returning to the start location, vessels were charged and the religion began. Okinawa Down~Downs were awarded to the hares for their shitty trail and inability to ensure beer was at the On~In, backsliders, birthdays, and of course accusations.
But then it was determined that NFHN Josh deserved to be named... Questions revealed all kinds of interesting tidbits about this Marine who beat the sheiot out of his superior officer, had sex with a Navy guy, masterbates with a sand blaster, while watching his sister get some Hummus. Some great names were tossed around more than a Jax H3 harriette at a weekend campout... But from now on Just Josh will be known as "My Sister Tastes Good"...
On~On to better d'erections to the hashes,
'Cruiter
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| 11/19/08 |
Inflate A Date |
Jax Hash #583 |
Inflate a Date and Back Bedroom Bobber |
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What a great trail? It was about 2.8 miles for all of you that count. Nice and cold, however we kept it dry. Thanks to the help of Bobber and AID's for all the help. Rememeber S H I T T Y T R A I L!!!!
On Out
Inflate A Date
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| 11/15/08 |
Aunt Jemima |
Jax Hash #582 |
Redwing, Face Plant, Sphincter Sicle |
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Trail # 582
Hare(s): RedWing Hoover, Face Plant & Sphinter
Marine Corps Annual Birthday Hash
Start: Publix 1234 Merrill Rd. Corner of Merrill Rd & Townsend.
SO there I was in the parking lot of Publix on Merrill Rd & Townsend with the worldly known Face Plant Puke Princess..Some reason, still unknown by me (Aunt Jemima). I just the urg of showing up early this one particular hash..Apparently Face was stuck in the parking lot waiting and making sure that pack showed up to the correct starting location.Not to mention, RedWing was worried that someone might see him driving off in the direction of where he was dropping the beerstops...
Well Face and I were there talking about what might be on trail.. Face was decked out in his boot issue Camo's and I was in the typical hash clothing. Like a wise hasher (that I am) I asked Face some general question about trail...How long, shiggy and how much road there will be...Face, replying in the typical hare response, stated that I will just have to stay on trail to see...After several minutes of attempting to get a half assed answer, I just gave up...
In turn, he went to hs car and pulled out a knife and walked towards me..At the time, I thoughtI maybe in danger, but Face with a knife..Well I had no worries about being cut by him...Face just started talking about needing a knife on trail..I guess he forgot who he was talking too Aunt Jemima...Almost never stays on trail...I (Aunt Jemima) guess the best trail ever done can be always cut in half...
Soon the rest of the hash showed up... Right after that, chalk talk was done for the one virgin. Ginger Snatch and Fecal drove up from Daytona H3 for a road hash...
The hare(s) asked for a 15 minute head (who said head) start...The pack obligated due to the fact that RedWing and Face Plant are not the fastest hashers in the world..Look who's talking, neither am I (Aunt Jemima).
When the time expired, the pack started walking towards where the hares had dropped trail markings. Of course AUnt Jemima went his usual direction..Not following trail. Words ofwisdom from RedWing was given to Aunt Jemima before trail, but hi did not follow his words of wisdom...As usual...
Aunt Jemima went around the front of Publix while the rest of the pack followed trail behind Publix. Eventually cuming out on the other side of the strip business...AJ hit the first couple checks and blowing his air horn...Thinkin that the air horn would make the hares move a little faster...Of course no one really followed AJ and I blew thru the check..Some reason I hit all the checks and found trail...So the pack had to follow until I hit a wrong check...The pack hit the check and went the correct direction while AJ went on his own way..Eventually AJ caught up with the pack...The back of the pack was Inflate a Date, Ginger, Senior, Fecal and couple others. Trail wound up started out to be a pavement pounder, until the trail that wound up going down a ditch line.
Trail came up onto a hurdle, due to the fact that there was a 8 foot chain linked fence..But AJ found a way around..There was a 1 foot cynder block fence right next to it..The Cynder block fence had a large hole in it..While AJ and Inflate went thru the hole, the rest of the pack climbed over the link fence...The trail continued on along the ditch line(in the water)..
Some how the back of the pack caught up with the FRB's...WOW what a change..The FRB's were Bobber,HIV, Vagina and a couple others...The hashers that were in the back did not go into the water. Some reason they were following AJ on the bank of the ditch..Trail continued along in the ditch for about a half mile or so...Some how AJ found trail just by zenning it.
Trail wound up remaing in the ditch until (I) AJ decided to go off trail...LAst I heard and saw any on trail was Slick Willie climbing out of the ditch blowing his whistle and yelling ON-ON...For some reason, I (AJ) decided to skirt along the side of someone's property...The owner saw me and yelled at me asking "Hey What are you doing?" I replyied back that I was a part of a R*nning group and that we were just passing thru...The rest of the pack was actually still in the ditch blowing their whistles....The property owner just said, "Oh, just be careful." I just went on and followed my own trail..My trail went onto the paved roads.
As I went on, I continued onto some trail and did not hear anymore whistles...I just kept going on pounding the pavement not knowing where I was going..I just kept going...I eventually came out to a "T" intersection...Right went up hill and left went down hill and there was a dense patch of woods...Being a sorta smart hasher. I felt that going left towards the woods would do me the best...So that's the way I went...
As I approached the woods, I noticed, what looked like a ditch within the woods. I kept going and heard something or someone making noises in the ditch. As I kept getting closer, I yelled out "Are YOu!!"No answer...I yelled again "Are YOu!!" Still no answer..I got to the woods and peeled some of the branches back and what did I see??? RedWing looking back at me as he climbed out of the ditch with Face not too far behind him...RedWing yelled back at me saying that he heard me yelling "Are you!!" He just did not want to respond due to the fact that RedWing thought that I just might go away. That's not going to happen...I asked RedWing for an article of clothing saying that "I had caught the hare(s)". He just said no and threw a handful of flour onto my chest while he ran by...Face Plant kept on going and yelled out the time that they were SNARED...I just happened to have some chalk with me...I wrote on the gound the time and that I had caught the hare...Oh yea, where I caught the hares was an actual beerstop...So I did hang out and had a beer at the beerstop.
As I was leaving, I saw that HIV come out of the woods and he yelled at me "Not bad for a short cutter". Refering to what I had put on the ground...That I had snared the hare(s)...I just kept on going towards Townsend.. Eventually I wound up getting lost on trail...Attempting to go where I thought trail was going...I guess wrong..
I did turn around and came back out and headed back towards that beerstop..I did catch back up with the back of the pack...The Back of the pack was Inflate, Strip My Wood, the Virgin, Boner Malfunction, Senior, Fecal, Ginger Snatch and a couple others. I attempted to try and r*n up hill on Ft Caroline Rd West bound...Not much I could do to catch up with the front of the pack...I noticed that at each intersection, that an arrow was put down to mark the direction of trail..It was either put down by Bobber or Humus...So I knew to trust the arrow...The DFL's and the rest of the pack stayed together and talked..
Trail wound up going thru several neighborhoods...There were several boob checks along the way. The Jacksonville Harrierettes and visiting Harrierettes were kind enough to show them.. Then trail found another ditch line to go onto which was not very surprising...Which there was a beerstop...Then trail continued on..For some reason there was no beer at the beerstop. Not sure why but nothing was there...The person writing this believes that there was not enough beer set out..but that is just an obervation.
Trail kept going along the ditch line until Strip found a lone bicycle sitting next to a fence..From the looks of the bicycle, well it was in ok condition so Strip hopped on it and starting riding it past other hashers...Which were not many...since we were in the back of the pack...Fecal, the virgin, Senior, Inflate, Ginger, Malfunction and couple others that I can not think of right now.. but soon after Strip started riding the bike, a local kid saw Strip riding off on the bike and started yelling that was his bicycle...But Strip kept on riding...Eventually Strip bought the bike back and appologized..The rest of the pack kept going along the ditch until a rather large drainage access in which we noticed 2 different colored
ropes tied to a drainage grate...RedWing did explain that there would be a Turkey/ Eagle split...Just did not say where it would be...Seeing the different colored ropes, We knew we had found the Turkey/Eagle..The only thing is that RedWing did not mention that we needed a flashlight...and no one was carrying a flashlight...Fecal eventually went down the rope that the hares had tied off..I am guessing that it did not go too far because we could hear Fecal in the tunnel...Most of the pack continued on in the ditch line until it was back onto original trail that was close to the 6 foot chain linked fence and the the 8 foot concrete fence that had the hole in it...Along the way, the pack passed by a boy/girl sitting in the ditch drinking some cheap vodka..They were nice enough to mention that they had seen the rest of the pack go passed them and pointed in the correct direction.
Trail came out of the ditch line and continued along old trail and eventually headed towards Townsend Blvd...In which, trail went back towards the start. Which is the Publix on the corner of Townsend Blvd and Merrill Rd. RedWing did his duty of going back and played sweepers by going back and picking up the stragglers..There were several...
Once the pack made it back to the start, some got changed while others said their good-byes. Instead of doing circle in the parking lot of Publix, RedWing had set up a location else where to hold circle..Cecil's on Arlington Rd between Cesery Blvd and University Blvd...Once there, circle soon occured and there was a lot of beer consumed and the trail trials were held.. The Hash-it was and is still held by Just Jen...Mainly due to the fact that Just Jen did not show up for trail...
For someone that caught the hare(s) at the first beer stop, I (Aunt Jemima) did ok, but the short-cutting got the best of me and at least I did not have to jump into the truck that RedWing offered for picking up the stragglers...
Scribbed by: Aunt Jemima
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| 10/22/08 |
Sister Fister |
10/22/08 - Jax Hash #577 (HARES:Mystery Hare and Harierrette) |
Mystery Hare |
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Sooo there i was....driving to this mystery hash. Pricker and I are driving around San Jose like a couple sober hashers. we make a few last minute phone calls to some other hashers who seem to have gotten "know where to go" memo. then finally found the start WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY back in the back of some office building. I get there and its like everyone else got the damn memo but us. but its ok there was much rejoying when a cold can of liquid happiness was poured into my vessle and then enjoyed by yours truly Sister Fister.
Then as i downed my second cold can of Liquid Happiness this crazy circle was called to order. AID being the wonderful RA this week, explained our slighyly unusal chalk talk. But none the less it was understood by all and we were off....virgins tightly in hand....we found trail as it started off going through the woods...starting the get the idea of who our mystery hares may be. Continuing through the woods we go. As i start to relize the Hares were not kidding when they said bring a flashlight. Me being the rebel i am decided against this, and left home with out a flashlight. BAD IDEA. So there i was going through the woods, running, through these dark woods no flashlight in hand trying to keep on trial. So finally decided it got a little to dark for comfort and after running into more enough spider web, i started to follow behind a hasher with a flashlight.
So there we were, running through the woods finding this AMAZING trail. We come into some trouble as we get little turned around when we lost trail, but then after a little running around a little bit got back on trial and then finally through the darkness BEER NEAR was shouted. Thanking the the Hash Gods I ran down this nasty ditch with the dog dirt stinch in there air. (acceptable hash behavior) we finally came across a much needed beer check. We tore open the bag of ice and to our surprise we didn't have the usual but tasty natty light....it was SHLITZ!!!! WHAT A TREAT!!!!
Then after the much need beer was enjoyed we were off again. Through a cemetery we go. just to relized it was just to run through a cemetery. kinda cool but hey back to the trail. then to a running trail which was short lived and we soon got off and through the woods again. only this time it was a hand full of us. getting turned around once again only for a few minutes, then back to trail. i now relized who out mystery hare were and finally being last to the second beer stop the pack stopped for more cold liquid happieness....for those hasher who dont get it by now....im talking about beer. what all of us hasher CUM for.
Off again, as it were, through a park and back into the woods. This time the pack didnt get that seperated but kept together a little more this time. Then through the woods we came out out of the woods and through some sub-division we go. Back to the road we go. Running down the road we. people looking at us like we are a pack of crazy drunks...(sercetly we are). then through a carwash and across the street we go, and the on-in was found. The Liquid Happiness was drank, the circle was had, and the virgins were de-virginized and there was much happiness. And to our suprise the hares Reveiled themselves. Hummus my Bummus and AJ. More Beer was drank and the hashers we sent off to get a piece.
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| 09/24/08 |
P33s on Small Dogs |
Jax Hash #571 |
Prick r Bush and Just Danny |
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This trail started at the strip mall parking lot where twisted sister is at Jax Beach. CHIPS arm wrestled Limp D!ck to RA the Circle, and the hares Prick 'R Bush and her little brother Just Danny were away...they ran off in opposite directions...mildly concerned me...
The pack crossed beach blvd HEADed north, but soon split into two groups along different routes...just danny got snared once or twice, i think by both groups, who converged near a park for a beer check...then off again in different directions...I went with a smaller group of 5-6 wankers, oddly backtracking trail after finding a true trail mark where we had passed on-on in the opposite direction just 20 minutes before...a few blocks later at the cemetary we came cross
another beer check...we waited for the rest of the pack...but they never came... I went on alone, and was FBI to the On-In just a few hundred meters further down the road. I waited with Prick 'R and Just Danny for 20 minutes or so before the beer truck arrived, driven by Prick 'Rs mom and dad...and carrying the rest of the group i had run with... Prick 'Rs mom seemed disturbed as she sat in the truck while i slithered up the hood and windshield, turned and mooned her... i don't know why...
A few moments later a dozen cars pulled in, the other group had lost trail and returned to the start to get vehicles... losers! Now it was Limp Dick's turn to RA the circle, interrupted twice by passing JAx Beach finest... nothing to see here officer...analversaries, happy birthday F*ck You, whistle checks...besides being FBI, i got to drink for being FRB AND DFL, LOL! the rest of the pack drank for autoharing...
The coveted Hash Shit went to myself... I have to say that while i appreciate the recognition, it was largely undeserved... it seems someone left the beer truck connected to the tow hook I chained my bicycle to at Start, and there was a delay as an alternate beer truck was identified and the keg transferred to another truck... somehow during the course of the trail my trusty beach cruiser was dismantled and abused and went in parts with multiple wankers... Father Abraham was sung and most of us sped off to Brewsters for the on-after...pitchers of beer was drank...pool was played, something resembling dancing was done, civilians were flashed, and the band was goated...
on-on to Drink for Pink Pub Crawl!
p33s on small dogs
fka preteen spirit
aka just blame me
aka mind you own f*cking business
aka don't take my picture
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| 08/13/08 |
Bobber |
Shiggy Two Point What??!!? |
Vadryna and CO |
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So there we were….
After being blown across the road by 60 mph gusts and the rain pouring down like a smaller version of Niagara Falls the skies finally cleared, clouds parted, and the sun shone through (insert angelic music here). Mother Nature must’ve checked the web site and saw I was only a shiggy 2.5 so knocked off all the crap, hopefully saving it for a Cotton Panel trail. Start was where start was, out of the public view however we did have the rent-a-parking-lot-cop roll through a few times to stare at my ass. Okay, maybe not my ass but I like to think that way. The crowd did get a little nervous when one of Jacksonville’s finest cruised in behind the theater and parked at the far corner. I think he or she or they was intimidated by the throng of people and just stayed in the car. Maybe it was a “they” and “they” were playing “hide the baton”. Must not have been a good hiding place since “they” left just a few minutes later. I think the Krispy Kreme “Hot Donuts Now” light came on. Our surrogate RA, Cotton Panel, ran the circle with vigor, sending the hare off and welcoming the unsuspecting virgins to slaughter. I mean to their very first exciting trail! Yeah, that’s it. A bit of a warming up with Father Abraham then cooling off with chilled brew and then we were on trail. Hmmm… pony tails! Oh how nice it was to see them swaying in front of me! Yes, it was going to be a good trail! Trail… lost in the first hundred yards but soon found. Hearing our whistles and yelling, the residents of an apartment complex came to the balcony railing to watch the horde (whored?) cross their retention pond. The water in those ponds is intentionally dark to cover up all the aquatic growth that grabs at and entangles your legs as you try to get across. At least there were some wet t-shirts after! The pack lost trail again about three minutes later and after looking for a good ten minutes Slick decided that there was a mark across some more water so went in and across. I was thinking to let a virgin go (remember the “to slaughter” part?) but he was already on his way. Did someone say trail mark? Nah, just a plastic bag in a tree. Slick opted to zen from there and sure enough found marks later on. The rest of us thought we could get around the pond but it after following Senior (yes, she was at trail AND in front!) we ended up swimming across anyhow. More over-the-head water, watching for reptilian eyes, and wet t-shirts. I think Cotton had wood the whole trail but he was one of the FRBs so I’m not sure. The rest of us were looking for the turkey eagle split, wondering where the 2.5 shiggy advertised trail went. So after helping the local vegetation grow (read ‘free pee’) I came upon the pack - no, not THAT way! - (pause for dirty thoughts) - well, maybe that way… Anyhow, I hear the hare was snared so there we wait to let her bounce ahead. Our “whored” attracted the attention of the locals and bubba soon came out to lean on his fence. I swear there was banjo music being played in his trailer… He started to say stuff to us but not even Stumblin & Mumblin could understand what Bubba McBanjo was saying. Staying clear of his prop-tee (I think that is how they say it) and listening for that awful shotgun pumping sound (not that there is a good shotgun pumping sound…) we went back in the bush. Wait – did I say ‘pumping’ and ‘bush’ in the same sentence? Actually it was multiple pumping and one bush – heh heh! Damn, I’m good! Now get those naughty thoughts out of your head (head!) because where we went smelled NOTHING like sex! Water, if you call it that, with floaters on it and swamp muck that smelled like ass. Ripe ass, not a freshly showered and powdered stripper ass, more like hobo-heaven-haven’t-bathed-in-three-years ass. (note: we do need another strip bar trail!) Meanwhile Bubba McBanjo came to his backyard and tried to give us d’erections to the next road to get out of there, fearful we’d pollute his bath water. I swear he was inhaling deeply as the stankass stench reminded him of his first date with his cousin. Thankfully the wetness didn’t last long (did I really say that?) and we happened upon a sack o’ suds. Beer that is, nice n’ cold, Hasher tea. Not wanting to litter, I picked up the beer cooler and at that point I became a walker. I really didn’t mind – in addition to becoming a walking beercheck I was graced with the good company of no less than four hot harriettes, one on all fours.
Just think on that for a moment.
Okay, long enough.
We tried to shortcut to the right after hearing whistles to the left (remember – we had beer) and hit a poolside shower. Talk about a Cabana Boy’s dream come true! Until we discovered the swamp muck is impervious to water. That stuff stuck like superglue to everyone and it’d take a whole bunch of soaping and lathering and rubbing…
Did I mention Cabana Boy heaven?
*sigh*
Let’s rejoin our story already in progress…
So we arrived at the On-In just in time because I was down to our last beer. Try as we may to be DFL’s the autohashers arrived minutes later, stripping us of that glory. Stripping? Oh, but there was! Some down to a bikini (YUM!) and others down to even less (ROWR!). Did I mention there was a co-hare on this trail? Well, more accurately CO-hare since it was CO. I think that is how the shiggy rating got screwed up – Vadryna thought it was per hare so 2.5ish plus 2.5ish equals a 5ish. I heard that CO actually saw gator balls (eyeballs that is) while she was laying so it may just have been close to a shiggy 5 just because of that. Maybe. Briars? Check. Stankass muck? Check. Deep water? Check. Animals? Bubba counts - Check. Possible gators? Check. Trail buddy needed? Eh, maybe. Sure makes sex on trail more fun! Yeah, maybe close to a five but when you divide by two hares you get a 2.5ish. Wow – just like on the web site!
Shiggy that turned any white clothing to brown, lots of sexy harriettes, hot food and cold beer – yep, it was a good trail!
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| 07/26/08 |
Bobber |
Jax Hash #557 |
Fertilize Her and H.I.V. |
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Drunken hash trash. Heh heh –
So there I was,
At Publix. What can happen at a Publix? Not much unless you happen to cross the street and do into the greenery over there. Looks so purty. Feels so prickly.
It was lush. No, not like a drunk. In fact none of us were lushes with only two beer checks. But anyhow, we’ll get to that. YBF here, fake boob check over here, YBF over there… Ah, yes a good trail it was. Oh did I say fake boob check? Yes. I. Did. But to her credit, virgin Just Jennifer said she was wondering why it was so long before one anyhow. Let future hares learn from this. Kudos to her for not only participating in every check the hares (or I) laid but for doing the entire trail while others wanked out and autohashed.
Back to trail. I love spell check when I’m drunk trashing! This way, that way, the other way. I swear I thought we backtracked 10 times. Vines and thorns from hell were everywhere. I like it! Cammies don’t fail me now! This must’ve been Jax’s version of Devils Walking Stick and I was in heaven! I missed that stuff, thanks to the folks up north. The biggest difference with Savannah’s thorns it we did it NAKED.
But it was all good. Sphincter got a wild hare up his ass to shortcut (see video) and pranced (you gotta see the video!) through the brush. Talk about Jacksonville is GAY! Wow, and he wasn’t even trying. Okay, prancing to avoid some of the throns but you, dude, were exceptional. And, yes, I took the video.
Shoot. I’m losing my buzz. BEER CHECK! BrB.
Ah…. Beer. Almost as good as boobies. No, I take that back. Thanks to Just Jennifer, Nutcracker, the girls from Valdosta (sorry, I’m drunk and can’t remember names), and Prickr - the boobies today were AWESOME! Such motivation this hasher has not seen in quite a while. Even at my invisible checks, self made checks, and real checks all the ladies were willing to participate. Oh, if I missed any of the beautiful ladies who did grace our eyes, I’m sorry. I’m drinking right now for it.
Me, me (chug chug) fuck me (chug chug.). Well worth it (chug some more). Ladies, you have no idea what a morale boost it is!
So through the Publix greenery we went into water that was chest high on some and over the head on others. That little dude who was with us is a natural! So more video about people going thru water the to the beercheck under the road. Very nice and about damn time. We’re out there sweating like pigs - and, no, not from sex (even though it WAS on our minds) – and severely dehydrated. Or at least alcohol starved. Kinda like sexually starved but the boob checks kept that level down nicely. Quite nicely. (see pics).
So about 1000 yards from start we drink our beer and continue trail right into cactus country. Holy smokes! Cacti are nice in a planter or something but when the needles are ½ in or more into you leg it’s an entirely different story. Yep, you guessed it - more pictures.
Taking me forever to write this because I’m also downloading pictures. Yeah yeah, I’m whining. Shaddup and get me another beer. Fuck - I’m alone so have to get it myself. Brb. Again.
So cactus out, shirt off, and on to UNF. Wonderful, I think, I know this area! Sure enough, after a little shortcutting we find trail on the most solid, shiggy free stuff we’ve had in the last hour and, sure enough,
(sorry, I need more beer) (drinking)
Sure enough we reach a boob check and a yak check. Just for the ladies who put up with out shenanigans so nicely we made sure they got a group package shot, both growers and showers. Thank you ladies for not laughing too loudly. And then an intersection which put us right back into UNF shiggy.
Now UNF shiggy wasn’t as bad as Publix because the prickers were much less but it was still shiggy. At this point we lost many of the pack, only five of us continuing on. Brave Jennifer and four guys. Now you know why I said brave. For the snakes, of course! I hear they can still bite underwater. What did you think I was talking about? Hashers? You can trust them. Yes, believe me. You can. Trust me – I’m a hasher.
So though UNF we went. Water. Spiders. Some thorns More palmetto bushes. Bush…hmmm..bush…. Did I mention I love spell check? Takes alot longer to type but kind of counters the beer intake. I’m sure you all are appreciative. I guess I need more beer. I don't know if I'm drinking or writing more!
So UNF was wet. So were the rest of us. More shiggy to go. Road? Sure, I could kinda see it but was I going to tell the two virgins, one out of towner, and the other dude it was there? Um – no. Proper hash behavior. Thru the muck, water, and prickers we went. Forget shortcuting. God, it was good. Take a look at the pictures – there’s a couple. Just a couple. No, O God wasn’t there - but she wishes she was!
But it was FUN! Yes, believe it or not, underlying all the whining and pain and blood we were having FUN! We better have – we paid $5 for this! Especially when we emerged on campus and were out of the palmetto bushes. Of course we went right back in but that is just part of trail. Fuck you HIV and Fertilizer. Fuck you very much. I'm just glad I had chalk in my pocket to write hat boob check on the tree. The hares seemd to have forgeotten we need inspiration once in a while. Especially if WE DON'T HAVE BEER!
After some chickenwire and barbed wire – boyscouts extraordinaire – we finally found beer. And took it. Damn right we took it – there was no one behind us. Hell, no one in front of us, you shortcutting bastards. Only one set of footy prints were visible as I looked for trail and that was the hare. One hare, not both if you want to be technical. No, I’m not drinking for being anal about trail – at that point all five of us were Beerlucinating. Lack of beer causes beelucinations, kind of like when you are thirsty as hell and see a mirage in the desert. Well, we were beerlucinating. Big time. So much that none of us changed pace when we saw the dead drop bag up ahead. We thought it was another beerlucination. Thank G it wasn’t! In any case, only the hare CAME this way – we saw the marks. It was really cool that two (count ‘em –TWO) virgins were in the group of five to actually stay on trail. Friggin’ awesome! I ended up drinkign ofr that later but, really, I didn't care.
The rest or trail was road work. We already spent about 3 hours in shiggy. Not that I’m bitching but there isn’t much to say about road trail. Pavement here, pavement there. We did have an on-across thru some sewer sections so that was cool./
[get another beer and fast forward]
So at the end of trail we ate, drank, made silly and superfluous accusations and there was much rejoicing! Thank you, HIV, for hosting the on-in!
Boober
(Now drink more and look at the pictures!)
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| 07/23/08 |
Prick 'R Bush |
Jax Beach Hash #556 |
Skin Flute and Just Sean |
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So there I was, sitting at my computer in the library getting directions to the start. I was calling to make sure that the directions I had were correct. See that was a long freaking way to go for beer. Luckily my efforts were rewarded later that night.
Jax Hashers showed up from far and further to Join Skin Flute and Just Sean for their Oceanway trail. After a rousing chalk talk (longest ever) with a new mark, the MEOW mark (girls we need to be sure to groom now), the hares were off. After we gave them back their flour containers. Whoever came up with the idea of putting the flour in squirt bottles is freaking genius. The hares, not so smart though. NEVER LEAVE YOUR FLOUR UNATTENDED!!!!! NEVER TRUST A HASHER!!!!!! dumbasses :)
So we mingled and laughed at the dumb hares some more and then the Pack was off. I promise you it took five minutes to find the SECOND trail mark. After finding two or three more marks the pack was able to guess which way we were going. AJ of course was off somewhere short cutting. The good thing is that he had a friend with him this time, Boner Malfuntion. NEVER FOLLOW AJ!!!!!!!! dumbass. :)
At the first Beer check the FRB's (read the rest of the pack. DFL for ever!!!) had dragged some kind of metal contraption on wheels with them. Biggest trail treasure ever. My laziness and need to finsih a beer at the beer check (drinking club people!!) payed off yet again. While the overachievers were running around looking for the REAL trail, I was just finishing my beer and walking to the intersection when they came running back in the other direction. Guess who's not tired now bitches!!!!! :) Oh and I got to see a hamster in a hamster wheel. It looked a lot like Klon Dyke Whore, but who knows.
There was a brilliant dead drop in a ditch near the lake. MMMMMMM Ditch Beer!!!!! Who doesn't like beer and stangnant water??? Beyond that was some kind of Sambuca Back Check. Me and the rest of the back of the pack had no clue what the hell that meant so we kept trucking on. See we knew it was A to A and just decided to go back the cars. Good thing too because we managed to catch the pack as they came out of the woods. Meanwhile, nobody had seen AJ or Boner for a while. People were calling and looking for them. We even told the Hares to go Sweep for them. No Dice though.
We decided we didn't care enough and started circle anyway. Then Lo and Behold they come out of the woods. Who knows what trail they followed. Cause let's face it after a while, nobody really knew where the trail was. So for laying such a Shitty trail, the Hares sat on some really cold Sacks....of ICE!!! Bare Assed!!!! It was great fun. CHiPS was in charge of circle and it went really well. Thanks all for respecting the circle!
Even though he's a asshole and laid a SHITTY trail, we decide to go ahead and name Just Sean. Many questions were asked and several names were generated. It came down to two. Becaue home boy seems to have an obsession for fat people, apparently having called out of work for a fat guy show and sleeping with a heavy girl, we were really learning toward Poke a Fat Ass. But when it came down to it, when he said that he would pass up a hot chick for a midget we all had to agreed that the name we chose was perfect. Congratulations on your naming!!!!!
GIVE ME A MIDGET SO I CAN FINGER IT OUT!!!!! (totally my idea) :)
Afterwards, we took over the bar at Chili's and then we all went home. Much fun was had by all!
Hey did your balls ever thaw out????
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| 07/16/08 |
Prick R Bush |
Jax Hash #555 |
Sphincter Sicle, Pond Scum and Just Josh |
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So there we were...Standing around in an abandoned parking lot. Since the new MM took over, parking lots seem to be the only place that contain our motley crew. Pond Scum and Sphincter were looking quite cute in their matching bandannas as they got ready to lay a trail.
Having not secured a beer truck driver, the RA quickly came up with an idea to remedy our problem. Call all un-named hashers to the center, kick out the ones that are signed up to hare and then have a drink off. I'm guessing that the last one to finish was to drive the truck, but when the last two tied, the winner, Just Danny, was given the keys to Bobber's truck. He's such a brave soul. ;)
And so it was that we did introductions and announcements while the hare shared with the newly acquired beer truck driver where the stops would be. As a side note, my condolences to Back Bedroom Bobber for having been voted in as Hash Flash since he takes at least 100 pics per trail, no matter how shitty. Welcome to the insanity. Good thing too cause we only had two other people flashing away that night. :)
Just Josh ran a very nice chalk talk, after the RA was reminded that he really ought to do the honors, and the Hares were off. There was much mingling and rejoicing had by all.
Trail was a good 2.5 shiggy. Only one of my feet got wet and the rest of trail was mostly dry. And the only person who jumped a fence was Half-A-Jack. Just cause he wanted to catch up. The Beer Stops were not too far apart and trail really wasn't all that long. I'm sure the whole pack was excited about the 5 types of beer to be had.
Natty Light
Bud Light
PBR
Tecate
Miller Lite
AT Circle time, we celebrated Sphincter's 34th birthday by making him a cake, sans the oil because apparently it has a flash point. (good call Cruiter) There was more singing(kudos to the whole pack for learning a few new songs. Keep it up!!!) and rejoiceing and plenty of beer drinking, then we got down to business. I mean how could we let Just Josh get away with laying such a shitty trail without giving him a shitty name. Easiest Naming ever. Congrats to Cock Ring Master!
Becasue Cock Ring Master was just SOOOOO easy, we actually decided to do another naming. Just Matt was put on the coolers, and nearly killed himself about 5 times, way to keep with the theme! Despite being sloppy seconds and drunk, apparently how he likes his women, we still managed to name the poor bastard. Congrats to the newly dubbed
Gone in 30 Seconds!!!!
It started to rain during the last naming, but did that stop us???? HELL NO!!!!!!!!! We kept right on going and Held a rousing round of Religion in the rain. An event that is quickly becoming a tradition here in Jax. Can you say, I Only Run When it Rains H3????
The on after was in a sufficiently shitty hole in the wall with some crazy AC. It was cold in there and they had Natty on tap! It's a very cool hash bar. Thank you Sphincter for letting us celebrate your birthday with you!!! Did you get the eggs out of your ears???
ON-ON to Invading Valdosta
Prick R Bush
(Hey Cruiter, gonna thing twice before assigning me to Hash Trash????)
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| 07/09/08 |
Doofus White Boy |
Jax Hash #553 |
Great Balls of Fire |
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Last night at the hash there was a series of shameful events, that should leave all of us that care about the hash more than our so called love-ones reeling, in horror and disbelief.
A senior mismanagement official made a series of bad decisions:
-This hasher failed to notify the hare that he would not be able to co-hare, just minutes before the hash began.
-This hasher decided that he was the best person, despite some more expereinced and far more entertaining RAs on hand, to run the circle himself.
-He selected a circle location adjacent to port-a-potties when there was a half mile of empty road nearby. While some might think that it allowed them to reminisce about the smell on Sunday afternoon of a hash campout, I think it smelled like shit.
-While running circle he failed to do the most basic and most widespread of down-downs such as recognizing out of towners.
-For the previous infractions this official was recommended for hashit by numerous people. At which time the crimes against the hash became even more
severe:
-This person tried to exclude himself from being in the voting.
-Upon being awarded the hashit this person excluded himself from drinking from it, because "there was not time." This is a neglect of all hash tradition and fails to show proper respect during this change of command evolution.
-This person then failed to wear and protect the hashit. In eight years since I moved from, Jax no one has ever allowed me to steal the hashit from Jax. This person needs to learn about how to stop crime.
This official knows no shame, so it is up to the rest of the Jax Hash to redeem their hash.
A hash that allows its officials to act in this manner does not deserve a hashit. So in the best intrest of the entire hash universe, I removed the Jax Beach Hashit and it rides with me, I will wear said plunger on trail until a jax hasher redeems the Jax Hash by leaving Jax and hashing with me and carrying the hashit on trail: Upcoming opportunities for redemption - GATR hash this Friday and Hemingway Days Hash (Key West) next Saturday.
OnOn,
Doofus White Boy
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| 07/09/08 |
Bobber |
Splitting Hares |
Just Matt II and Aunt Jemima |
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So I take off for a few weeks on an extended beer check and all these new faces show up. Great turn out- probably 30 or so wankers - freeloaders, all of them. They are just here for the cheap beer. Well, then again so am I!
Beer? Did I say beer? What beer? Sure, I was early (sometimes it happens) but when a hasher arrives at start there is no doubt it is beer-thirty somewhere. No beer. For that matter no coolers either. Just Matt Part Duh was here for his debut as hare but it seems his illustrious co-whore in crime, Chips, called saying he'd show but would not co-whore anymore. Just Matt Part Duh drew the short straw and now had AJ as co-whore. Short straw... Short hare... go figure. Lucky for him he pre-laid trail. Not lucky for AJ.
To add insult to injury, Chips had the beer with him too. He eventually showed (delayed at Dunkin Donuts, I'm sure) and the hash rejoiced, seeing ten cases of brew in the back of his truck. The hash moaned in a bad way because it was all WARM! No kidding. Warm. Vadryna almost cried - there's a picture. Trust me, I'm a hasher. Not even a bag of ice in the truck, just the beer. Some over achieving hasher, hell if I knew who he was but I was eternally grateful, showed with a bag 'o beer from the gas station or other local brewery and as I loaded the coolers with the warm beer I slugged down a cold one. Chips did speed off and returned with a few bag of ice.
Enough about the warm beer. Warm beer at a hash?!?! Okay, enough about that. At least there was beer. Warm as it was....
As a distraction, Gunz paraded her little sister around for all of us to see, gawk at, squeeze, molest, crawl under... Just Anita (I hope I got her name right) tolerated us quite well I think. Or is well trained. Ponder that one for a minute. At least until HIV stole her virgin instrument and she tried to climb him like the yellow banana tree he was. Yes, there is a picture of that too. Go look. We pretty much forgot about the warm beer at that point.
So circle was had and the hares were off. Just Matt Part Duh went one way and, you guessed it, the zen-challenged short cutting AJ went the other. The pack was soon to follow. One of them, at least, and it wasn't AJ.
Trail was pretty good. Not enough boob checks so I added a few of my own. Yes, ladies, I did. Why do you think I move my legs so fast to get in front of you? Oh, but I forgot – I was new to many of you. Silly hashers!
Somewhere along trail I happened upon a white stuffed tube and brought it with me. I’m not sure who has it now but several of the ladies and even the guys had some fun with it on trail. Yeah, more pictures. Damn hash flash. I’m pretty sure the stuffing was cumming out of it as Dude was being dick-slapped. Just about that time who pulls up but AJ. Yep, even on his own pre-laid trail AJ got lost! Not the first time we’ve had an auto-hare and I’m sure it won’t be the last.
We circled up again, the beer cold by this time, virgins were de-virginized, Great Balls O’ Fire was named, and the hashshit is having issues of its own (but that is another story). All in all a good time was had by most and there was muuuuuch rejoicing! On-on!
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| 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.
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| 01/03/07 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #457 |
Flying Meatballs |
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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....
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| 11/22/06 |
Bobber |
We don't need no stinkin' keys! (Pre-Turkey Day Trail) |
Senior Spitizen and Face Plant Puke Princess |
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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 |
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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
|
|
| 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!!!
|
|
| 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
|
|
| 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)
|
|
| 02/08/06 |
Bobber |
Trains, Drains, and Autohashers |
Ballpark Frank & Sir Wacksalot |
| |
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
|
|
| 11/23/05 |
Bobber |
Pre-Turkey Day Trail |
Flying Meatballs |
| |
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
|
|
| 11/16/05 |
Bobber |
Bobber Banned from Boobs |
Girth Vader |
| |
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
|
|
| 11/09/05 |
Bobber |
The Trail Of Threes |
Sir Wacks Alot & Just Jon Boy |
| |
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 |
| |
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 the bush
The pack found marks and stayed on trail
And I snuck from behind to smack some tush
Suddenly stopping on the road
CJ turned and actually tried
Would you believe a fake YAK check?
But the guys saw thru it and just went by.
Cool brews were ready at the beer check
“More trail?” the hare did dare ask
After hands were raised high in the air
He downed his brew and set off on his task.
Running and stomping in the puddles
Like little kids, we laughed and misbehaved
Just a bit taller but none the wiser
But maybe just a little more depraved.
Trail ended right behind Gingers
With me DFL, coming in the rear
Cheesy burgers from the Clown were had
And, of course, washed down with beer.
Trail was over, the circle broken up
From this wanna be disaster hash
On-after to The Moon many did go
And, days later, I wrote this trash.
Bobber
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|
| 08/31/05 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #377 |
Slick Willie and Just James |
| |
So there we were, standing outside the Duval County School building being poster children (with beer in hand) for kids to stay in school. We circled up, the hares warning us of the Turkey/Eagle split that crossed the river. Did they give us a water noodle or even a rubber ducky? Of course not! After a down down of Gatorade they were off spreading powder wherever they went. FMB advised the pack against trying to swim the Eagle trail across the river. Something about flesh eating bacteria but we knew there were no boob or yak checks in the river so no one was going that way anyway. Cups were raised to salute those serving overseas, those suffering from the hurricane, and the hashers who could not be with us. No virgins were had, no announcement were made, Father Abraham wasn't done (busy with teh alter boys). After much mingling and tomfoolery (who is Tom?) we were off! Heading straight to the river we found a ton of shiggy in the parking lot puddles before we came upon the treacherous boardwalk. That wood can be very slick... wait – Slick was the hare. That wood can be very slippery as Just Nick found out. He tried a quick move and found that lubed-up wood pressed upon his lips. That’s right – Just Nick went.. um... down! He soon got off his knees, smiled (I guess he liked it) and continued on trail. Up and over the Main Street bridge we went. Many of us shortcutted hopping over the guard rails and I hear we missed the beer check under the bridge. Up and over the big blue behemoth. Some lucky lady joggers nearly got a yak show as they came in the opposite direction. They were about 5 seconds off pace. Better luck next time. On the other side we found an intersection that would leave us confused. Searching we went. Finding two toward the Landing and one off by itself we searched some more. Across the street in the park a mark was seen so off we went. Little did we know it was not true trail and it would lead us into circles, doubling back, cursing about multiple pack marks (who the hell is SS???), to a cop and his whistle, and eventually back at the Landing. Being obscenely parched, dying of thirst even, the brew seeking hashers crossed the Main Street bridge and returned to start. No beer check. No trail. The only saving grace was having the girls along for boob checks. Thank you Pond Scum and Fanny Flasher! We love you! All four of you! A phone call and a bit of driving finally led us to the On In and beer. Beer, food, a pool, and more beer. Cannonballs, dunking, and belly flops were abundant. So were shapely legs, skimpy bikinis, and clingy wet t-shirts. What more can be asked?
Life was good.
Very good.
And there was muuuuuuuuuch rejoicing...
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| 06/29/05 |
Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #368 |
Sir Wacks-A-Lot |
| |
So there I was...
Um...
Wait a minute....
No I wasn't.
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| 06/08/05 |
Back Bedroom Bobber |
Jax Beach Hash #365 |
Cotton Panel & Veal Vagina |
| |
So there I was, ready for another CP trail. Ready? There is no such a thing when he doesn’t know where trail goes himself. I’m sporting long pants just in case while he and Veal arrive in shorts giving the pack a false sense of security.
Circle was brief, the hares hoping to get through trail before darkness falls. At least that is what they told us. You see, there were a few hashers present who are scared of creepy crawlies –snakes, spiders, and things that go CHOMP! Dusk approaching was just an excuse because the hares wanted to finish trail before the woodland creatures came out to feed. They did not want to sweep trail searching for the telltale shoe or whistle of a ‘missing’ hasher.
So off they went to get laid… errr… lay trail. Announcements were made, I mentioned I had the snake bite kit, bitching and moaning was heard, mingling was done, and beverage was consumed. The pack was off!
You could tell immediately that it would be an interesting trail – Sexy was in the lead. That lasted for a whole 3 minutes as he took off on a false trail. Did the pack follow? Yes, we did! Sexy was now DFL. Hashers rejoiced as I pulled a cooler out of the brush. A beer check? So soon? Who cares, open the cooler! To our astonishment there was some nasty brown water inside instead of a refreshing golden lager. What heinous joke was this?
We followed trail through all types of terrain – Open paths where we could walk erect (heh, heh, heh, I said erect!). Dense growth where we had to nearly crawl closely behind Ditchin’s behind (we have pictures!). Jungle-like areas where you could not see the sky because of the palmetto leaves (blades? knives?) over your head. Who said head?!!. Even through the backwater bayou where the green scum surpassed even that fabled to be found in Sexy’s shorts. Who knew what vile things lurked within the murky depths? (of the swamp, not his shorts) No one but it sure smelled like ass after you got out of it. Just ask the harriettes around me after I went balls deep. Um… I’m talking about in the muck here.
A beer check (with actual brewski’s in it) was finally stumbled upon after what seemed 5 or six miles. Although it was on the wrong side of an intersection it was a still a welcome sight. What was thought to be a false trail - partly because it was on the other side of the intersection and partly because it was just not shaggy enough for a CP trail - actually turned out to be true and the pack continued.
After skirting a splash of water with a stick floating in it (referred to by some as a SNAKE!!!) we followed those beautiful white shards of TP as light began to dim. Coming upon a tree fallen across 40 feet of dark ominous water as the sun set the pack pondered a bit. I think the buzz was wearing off and thoughts of being eaten were surfacing in the sobering mind. A bad sign of too few beer checks on trail. Many chose to Zen to the road while a few followed trail, mounted their Fanny on the wood, and rejoiced when they came. To the other side. (yes, more pictures)
The On-In was just beyond. Swamp covered clothing was shed, tales of surviving a CP trail were heard, and a Half Baked was named. Oh, and did I mention the Nectar of the Gods was enjoyed?
And we did.
And it was good!
Bobber
|
|
| 04/30/05 |
Bobber |
Jax FAMILY Hash |
Bobber and Just Sean |
| |
So there we were…
It was a terrible hashing day.
The sun was up.
The ground was dry.
The sky was pretty clear - no immediate threat of rain.
Did that discourage the Jax Hashers?
We shall see….
The hares, Bobber and Just Sean, were ready to do trail.
Coolers were filled with Natty and Beast as well as water and Gatorade.
All were chilled and covered in ice.
Chalk talk was scribed upon pavement.
Ditchin’ dropped off food at the On-In for later.
Sexy was the first to show.
Then Slick arrived in his white land yacht.
Minutes passed and phone calls were made.
I guess the fair weather had the hashers scared.
Or maybe the low shiggy rating was disappointing after the 3.5 of the last trail.
On-In info etched in the asphalt and off we went.
Just Sean sat in the back of the DMENTD truck laying trail.
Sexy was the FBI following closely on the hare’s tails.
Slick came in as DFL being delayed by an intersection.
And there was muuuuuch rejoicing!
Hash beer was put aside.
Coolers were opened packed with Bud Light,
Mich Light,
Corona,
Coors Light,
Smirnoff Red
and Smirnoff Black.
And then we drank
Grilling burgers and dogs to go with the salads, chips, dips, homemade cookies, and jellyrolls.
Some non-hashers came over and relaxed as well.
They played pool, hit the spa, and threw horseshoes.
NASCAR on the tube, waiting for the crashes.
The PS2 and computer fired up with games.
Water balloons flew through the air.
And music could be heard throughout the house.
Aye, there was much rejoicing.
But none of you wankers showed up.
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|
| 10/02/04 |
Bobber |
Birthday Hash |
RT and Just Jim |
| |
So there I was, beer truck breaks screeching as I pull into the parking lot, clothes dripping with sweat from playing with wood. Chalk talk was displayed for all to see and the hare and co-hare (RT and Just Jim) both adorned with flour. It seems the powdery substance somehow leapt from their hands to cling to each other’s body. Being my smart-ass self it soon clung to my backside as well.
Other hashers arrived (Sexy and Paramecium) and circle was brief. All followed trail through the streets, dealing with the shiggy as best they could. The pack kept together and passed me and the beer truck near a well placed intersection in the middle of, well, and intersection. Surprisingly the pack was close behind the hares, mere seconds separating them as they continued on toward the On-In.
Hares were called into the circle, the trail praised as best we could, accusations were made, and new songs were heard. It seems RT has been holding back until now and let us hear some long lost lyrics. Birthdays were announced and Just Jim tried to figure out just how old he was. He ended up removing his shoes but that didn’t help much. Whatever you are, 33, 34, 43… Happy Birthday, Asshole! Ending, as always, with Reverence, everyone hoped to get a piece.
A few more arrived at the On-After (Preteen, Godzirra, and cousin Dragon) beer was had, munchies consumed and stories told. As we enjoyed pre-serial-killer-pics of ex-es’ tales of suspending chairs, misplaced bruises, clothespins, and making slip covers could be heard. Don’t ask, have another beer.
Although we lost two hashers who went in search of more beer (an admirable cause) I’m sure they found True Trail somewhere… The sexy cake with the Bodacious Ta-Ta’s had its cleavage cut and this time everyone actually got a piece! By the way, thank you for the back rub.
Bobber
|
|
| 09/11/04 |
Bobber |
Jax Hash #334 Spiders and Swamp |
Unibanger & Cotton Panel |
| |
So there we were....
The first ever 10am Saturday Hash. And what a turn out! Two hares and nine hashers - Dead Man, 5 Bucks, Stiffy, Ditchin Dick, Godzirra, Poles, Ice Box, Fraudulent Paramecium, and myself.
After telling stories like a bunch of little kids of their glorious online battles earlier that morning the hares departed right on Hash time (30 minutes late). The pack counted to ten (none of us had a watch) and began walking. We quickly left civilization and quickly found briars. Helluva place to put them, right there on that log, as we are trying to balance and walk across it. Why we tried to balance I do not know since for most of the trail we’d be trudging through water. FP took the lead (I guess he was tired of looking at my butt) and was soon out of sight. I stuck with the ladies, being dubbed ‘camera bitch’ by Cotton before the hares left. I didn’t mind the view at all...
The water out there was frightful and the spiders were so delightful... The water had a nice reddish brown tint to it from all the decomposing happening in its depths. What a wonderful aroma we experienced. Later we would learn as we sat at Fast Boys that it permeated our very skin. But it wasn’t all wet. Trail soon left that skanky water and followed an old dirt road for what seemed like forever. I caught quite a few webs in the face, even in the rear of the pack. I felt like a giant among Hobbits as they gingerly walked and sang underneath. Yes, sang - these lovely Hashers serenaded the spiders with a tune that sounded like it came from the Love Boat. Or was it West Side Story? Catching up to FP at an intersection, we left the somewhat solid road and returned to the putrid pond.
Many a time did we speak of how crazy we are not only to do trail voluntarily but to actually PAY money to be there. But there was the beer. Ah, yes, the beer... We finally reached the beer check, hung ever so carefully in a fallen tree, and a few of us climbed up and enjoyed a still chilly brew. Well, I enjoyed it until Dead Man smacked me upside my head. A big ‘ol thunk on my forehead. I swear she wound up for it! She nearly knocked me off the beer tree and claimed she was killing a mosquito. When I recover from my concussion I’ll have to thank her for saving me from losing a few pints of blood to that skeeter.
So there I sat, 10 feet above the murky water and watched the ladies straddle the wood (yeah, baby!) and continue on trail. Not being one to litter (or waste beer) I snagged the Bag O’ Brew and followed. About 20 feet into trail things slowed and I was the reason why. It seemed I was the official Sink-O-Meter and needed to go first so that others would know what areas to avoid. Just f’n wonderful to be loved, isn’t it? Big trees, little trees, trees that squish underfoot... Tripping over slimy sunken logs, knocking aside spiders with a stick, and relishing that lovely aroma. Every once in a while a shriek was heard behind me as another web was found.
Having thought we were coming out of the bayou I came upon a dry area but, as I looked on past, I swore because the murk continued out of sight. On and on it went, for days it seemed (like I said, none of us had watches) until we came upon houses and met Wilson. Yes, straight out of Home Improvement a friendly neighbor greeted us from behind a fence and wished us luck as he laughed at our appearance. We were stunned for the moment because we didn’t know how to walk without the water and sunken branches tripping us up but we pressed on. Careful not to trip on a sidewalk crack or get cut from a blade of grass we kept going. Across Kernan and into new construction we went. Avoiding the shaven tattooed workers we saw the hares in the distance. It seems the On In was moved to where the next beer check was to be.
A beautiful sight – a pool, sprinklers, and a playground all waiting for us at the beer check/On In. Waiting for us if Ditchin didn’t forget her resident pass! The lifeguard would not let us pass and it was all Ditchin’s fault. So what if she didn’t live there, she had forgotten her pass. Left to entertain ourselves we played on the jungle gym and had races on the spring animals in the park. Soon after we piled into cars and returned to start.
The on after was at Fast Boys and it was there we realized how much we stank. Our location was prime, dead center of the restaurant, so I am sure other patrons noticed our eau d’ sewage cologne. Uni and I quickly left to change. Seems everyone else had the foresight to do that before arriving. Who’da thunk it? Beer and wings – good eats! As supplies ran low someone (not me) began a wet paper ball fight. We tried to get kicked out before paying the bill but our 18 year old waitress was onto us (figuratively). Kids these days...
On On,
Bobber
|
|
| 09/08/04 |
Flting Meatballs |
Jax Beach Hash #325 |
Leave the Goat Alone |
| |
“Nancy Drew and the Case of the Disappearing Trail“
After a little confusion as to who was haring Leave the Goat Alone gathered the Hash at the start at the Regal Movie Theater on Beach Blvd between Hodges and San Pablo. Little did he know, that the power had not been restored there, yet? It made for an empty parking lot and didn’t seem to be a problem at the start, while it was still light out. Goat took off across the street and right into the woods as expected for Goat. We welcomed back our long lost Hasher Veal Virginia, who actually looked better after 6 months in the middle of god forsaken nowhere. There was some (as it turns out reasonable) concern because Raggedy or Five Bucks wasn’t haring with him in order to rein him in. Luckily the pack emerged from the woods just as the sun was setting and it was starting to get dark. We left the woods and went out into a housing development with several houses under construction. That of coarse means Port-a-Potties, and sure enough there was a F.P. right nest to the first on after the woods. Well the trail wound around a corner or two, and still I have yet to see an intersection, but “hey” the trail had been pretty easy to follow so far, but There seemed to be a little too much road for Goat, but look a park with swings. Most Hares love to run trail trough playgrounds. And sure enough there are some marks leading right to the swing set. Then NOTHING... Oh we looked high, low, in corners, in the woods, in new construction, hell at the end of every street in the neighborhood, But Nothing. After a good 30 to 45 minutes near the park, someone (no names due to the technology on trail issue) finally called the beer truck and was able to determine that the trail was A to A. At this point you might think it gets easy, wrong!! Having just run to the end of every street we were able to figure out (mostly by asking directions) how to get out of the neighborhood. As it turned out were had to go in the opposite direction from the start to get to the only exit from the subdivision. So we jogged, walked, bitched our way out of the subdivision, and we came out on San Pablo just north of the Mayo Clinic. Now for those of you who don’t know where that is, it’s a dame long ass distance from the movie theater on Beach Blvd. So we jogged, walked, bitched our way up San Pablo across Beach and finally to the Parking lot where it was dark, dark, dark. And all you could here was the call of the wounded Goat saying, “ There was a YBF, There was a YBF, I show you, There was a YBF.” Well after a long awaited beer or four, we concluded circle with voting Goat the Hash shit in absentia. He then took off to show Cotton Panel where the YBF was, or as Goat had to admit where it wasn’t. On-On till next time.
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|
| 08/21/04 |
Did I Cum Yet |
Jax Hash #331 - The officially decancelfied hash... |
Unibanger and DICY |
| |
Welcome welcome welcome to this weeks edition of the JaxHHH Hash Trash! Saturday's trail started off with this reporter arriving at the start first and cracking a beer with the intention of cancelling trail due to a mix inclement weather and sheer hash laziness. Just Nikki arrived shortly after me and we hung around in the truck waiting for the rain to pass. After that Unibanger arrived and I convinced him that trail would be pointless unless 4 people showed up, so I sat around and prayed to the Gods of Golden Nectar to do what they must to allow us to just drink and not actually have to go on trail. I know, I'm a horrible hasher, and am more interested in drinking than r**ning trail. Oh, wait... that makes me a great hasher.
Anyway, suffice it to say that 4 people who were actually gonna go on trail showed up. Just Nikki and 2 Sexy were appointed beer truck and Bushwanker, Hump and Cumming, Poles (minus a little Ice Box who is on the DL) and Preteen Spirit showed up. We did circle and were on our way. I was frightened that I could not substitute for CP on a trail effectively, so I allowed him to scout for me the previous night with my Co-Hare (hopefully CP or UniBanger will write up a hash-trash of that night... a) so I don't have to hear the same story everytime they tell a hasher and B) cuz it's some funny shit). So I was left not knowing where trail was going or what it would bring. We started out and were instantly in shiggy. Raspberry bushes, throrns the size of small Cadillacs and a little turtle named Phillip were just some of the fun stuff we were running amongst on the first portion of the trail. Our task was to get to a little service road somewhere in Jacksonville (that was about the best directions Unibanger could give). We ended up coming to a water treatment plant of some sort and had to squeeze between two fences about 2 feet apart to get to where we needed to be. We laid the beer check and realized that the wanker known as Bushwanker was, instead of actually going on trail, doing what this reporter wanted to do and was drinking beer with the beer truck! Can you believe this?! And he was one of the "for doing trail" votes. In fact, I was the only one against doing it. In a fit of rage, I threw my bag of toilet paper at him and demanded that he hare the last half of trail with us. He did. Then we finished trail after passing under I-95. Hashers drank beer. Hashers ate sandwiches. Hashers sang songs and then drank more beer. Hashers went home. ... kinda died there at the end, huh?
On a serious note, Preteen Spirit found a lovely set of size 9 (is that big) thong panties with a lovely floral pattern on them. Very nice trail treasure... although he refused to wear them during his down down. Oh yeah, and Fraudulent Paramecium showed up about 9 years late again. That's pretty much all that happened. In general, it was a good trail, with plenty of shiggy and the always welcome smell of a water treatment plant. Thanks to Unibanger for allowing me the chance to show him that there are other hashers out there besides CP that will allow him to suck their ding-dongs on trail. Unfortunately I don't remember much about it, but after all, signing out, this is:
DICY
ON-ON!
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|
| 08/07/04 |
DidICumYet |
Jax Hash #330 - TREES!!! |
$5 and a Beer & Leave the Goat Alone |
| |
Welcome to yet another edition of Hash Trash, brought to you by the fine people of StayFree Maxi Pads, where you can only drip once on a pair of white pants (cue the jingle). If you were not there on this past saturdays trail, then you are a complete moron and should probably find something else to do with your life but sit around the house and whack off to anime porn. Really, because there was a great chance of seeing real, live boobies had you gone on trail. Feeling like an ass yet? Good.
On-On to happier things: Trail began at the Wal-Mart on Beach just west of Southside. From the very start there were a few people I didn't expect to see on what was promised by Goat to be one bitch of a trail. Those in attendance that I can remember were Cirhosis, Winn-Dick-Me, Cotton Panel, 3D, BBB, Dick on a Stick (did not go on trail... probably because he's my little... ), Stiffy, Just Vickie, Too Sexy and a few other people. If I left you out and you'd like to register a complaint, fill out any form at your local post office and suck my nut.
We sent the Hares away and waited for about 20 minutes, mingling and making sweet doggy love when, WALKING! Instantly we were in some shiggy, nothing bad... just some woods, homeless camps, streams, etc. Then we came up to the first crossing. Now, I don't want to whine or anything, but crossing those two "creeks" was ... the fucking shit! It rocked... especially since I was crossing with Bobber and he was giving me an under water hand job. MMM good. After the ... you know what? I'm not in the mood to talk about trail. It was good. Everyone had fun. Cops were called because allegedly a brother hasher got in a fight with a U-Haul truck and ended up pissing himself... or something like that. Who can keep it straight any more?
After trail we went into an elephant tittie bar... It was interesting to say the least, and we managed to last about 19 minutes (or two beers) before the first threat of expulsion. It was decided that all hashers who cared to were invited over to this reporters house for post-trail festivities... a.k.a. Watching random people run butt-ass naked around my house... but don't worry, it isn't like there is a 12 year old kid living there... oh wait! I forgot about that. For more information regarding the happenings of that night, please see someone who can remember anything after about 10:30. And now I am kind of running out of things to put in this hash shit so I will just leave you with something to ponder as you continue through this comedic endeavor we so lovingly call life:
Confuscious says that crowded elevators smell differently to midgets.
ON-ON
D-to the I-to the C-to the Y
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| 06/19/04 |
Unibanger |
Jax Hash #327 (Hares: Unibanger & Cotton Panel |
Unibanger & Cotton Panel |
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Thunder. Lightening. A torrental downpour. Wow, what a way to start a trail! What a way to really mix up all that shiggy!
Even with the weather the turn out was pretty good: Belgium, Sexy, Meatballs, 3D, 5 Bucks, Dead Man, Leave the Goat AND SIX VIRGINS! I wonder if Cotton gave them any idea what they were in for...
Starting on time (about an hour late), just in time for the rain to completely subside, the hares took off into the "woods" and it was apparent after just a few feet that it was not the same trail that had been previously scouted. It was definitely muddier (if that was possible) than just earlier that morning. "Crotch deep" (phrase of the day), is the perfect way to describe the stinking, sucking, "won't let go of your shoe" kinda of mud that the ENTIRE trail seemed to be comprised of.
Taking our time through all the mess, Cotton and I strolled at a leisurely pace until we started hearing the screams of pack (Sexy?) quickly gaining on our heels. Thinking of the pack, we realized that Flying Meatballs would be AHEAD of the pack (that hare-catching SOB) and quickly picked up the pace.
The pack (or at least some of them) were slowed down by the beer check, placed in a nice, quiet, serene part of the swamp (middle of fucking-no-where). There they rested and reflected on who it was that got them into this shit. Choice words were shared as they expressed their opinions of the hares.
Within 10 minutes of leaving the beer check (300 feet of mud-soup) we promptly arrived at the end, leaving behind the humid and sweltering forest for a fresh patch of clean grass under the shade of an oak tree. Here is where we passed out for about 10 minutes (or less) until we heard Meatballs running around the corner (we knew he'd be hot on our track). Cotton and I both agreed that the trail was a bit of a bitch, and that something happened between the time we scouted it and ran it. Meatballs responded with, "It's because you guys are IDIOTS."
Another 20 minutes and the entire pack was through, some of them (mostly the virgins), asking if it was already over. As you can see (by the photos) that there were plenty of cordial hand guestures, letting us know that we had done a great job in that little thing we called "trail".
ON ON (to the next shiggy trail),
Unibanger
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| 05/22/04 |
Fraudulent Paramecium |
The British Invasion and Barroom Brawls |
Cotton Panel & Unibanger |
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LATE-BREAKING NEWS:
A British Invasion is Underway... The HMS invincible has docked in mayport and 1000 of her majesties finest sailors have disembarked as part of an amphibious landing force in an audacious attempt on the part of Great Britian to retake her former colonies. Their first objective : to take advantage of drunk US Navy personnel while off duty and subsequently impress them into service in the British Navy. (hmm... didn't we fight a war in 1812 to stop that???)
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So there I was... arriving at the oh so picturesque location that Cotton had so thougtfully chosen for us..... the JEA regional water treatment plant, a perfect example of unparalleled architectural beauty. I noticed the aforementioned British sailors, along with a virgin ( Just Will) that Buzz Box was so kind to bring. The intense late May sun beat down upon us, and I decide to stock up on fluids by liberally imbibing large quantities of red gatorade. We debate whether we should perform our ritual , "Father Abraham" and decide that since it was so incredibly hot, we really have no reason for wanting to 'warm up.' And after introductions, the hares are off...
After giving the hares fifteen minutes, we hesitatingly proceed into the dense shiggy. Looks like the Brits arent quite prepared for what they've gotten themselves into. Turns out thet they got their start hashing in Italy, where they didnt have to worry about rattlesnakes, tarantulas, alligators, and dense semi-tropical vegetation. Welcome to low-lattitude hashing my friends! Initially, it seems like Cotton is re-laying the same trail that he had laid at the end oflast year, with a few minor abberations. The terrain is some of the hilliest that I've ever seen in Northeast Florida, which of course doesn't say much, but it takes a while to adjust to sudden elevation changes when in the past you've been running through nearly level plains. At first it doesn't seem like we're likely to get all that wet, and given the fact that no measurable precipitation had fallen during the preceding two weeks, I had high hopes that I would emerge from trail without experiencing any water much higher than my ankles. Alas, my hopes were soon dashed as I saw a series of toilet paper markings placed directly over a stream. After a minute or so of trudging through the stream and constantly exerting a great deal of effort to avoid losing my shoes in the porous soil of the creekbed, I, being the brave soul that I am, decide to make a run for dry land. For a short distance I happily run through the grassy meadow paralleling the stream while my fellow hashers struggle to avoid becoming submerged in the creekbed. Nonetheless, I realize that my good fortune is short lived indeed, for soon therafter I see trail markings on the other side of the creek and I realize that there is no way to avoid crossing the dreaded stream And once you swim across murky putred smelling water on one of cotton's trails, its like you come to this sudden realization that you should have come to before even deciding to embark on one of cotton's trails.... you're gonna get wet, goddamit, you're gonna get ur legs torn up, godammit, and you're gonna smell like shit after emerging from the trail, and if you don't like it, well,, you shouldn't have come to the hash in the first place!
The full level of my exertions being apparent, I decide to kind of 'take it easy' when I get on the other side of the creek, since the vegetation seems less dense now with fewer briars and thorns, and I feel that I can relax a bit even if that means allowing other hashers to pass me. Finally I realize that I must be near the back of the pack as I spot 2 Sexy advancing towards my rear. (No double entendre was intended there). In defense of 2sexy, if he were really that interested in a good view of my posterior, he would have remained behind me. He didn't, so I think we can all agree that he's a Jax BEACH hasher and not a Jax hasher. (Talk to 2sexy if u need a clarification of that distinction)... I soon arrive at the 'beer stop' (just a little red cooler sitting out in the middle of the woods) trailing 2 Sexy (I can see the jokes coming here)... and unlike the other hashers, I decide to take my time and savor the entire contents of my can of Old Milwaukee (theres nothing like Old Milwaukee with an aftertaste of algae and dead mosquitoes). I am now alone, the other hashers having left several minutes ago, and I am forced to search for trail on my own. I see an intersection and one trail marking to the left of that intersection. For about 10 minutes, I seem to wander aimlessly in the woods, searching for a second or third intersection. Finally, I think to myself... hmm, it might not be a bad idea to return to the intersection. What a brilliant idea! I return to the intersection and search for trail directly beyond the intersection, and, lo and behold, I actually find trail.... not just one, nor two, but THREE trail markings. I've actually found true trail and, moreover, I've done it without the assistance of any fellow hashers. I'm so proud of myslef !....
But then the fear starts to set in. Now I'm all alone in the woods....what if I get bitten by a water moccasin or swallowed by an alligator. Will anyone be there to help me??? I start yelling "are you??? ARE YOU?!?!"..... albeit with no response. Maybe I am really alone. On the other hand, maybe there are hashers that are in front of me that have simply chosen not to heed my calls for help. If the truth be told, my dismemberment by an alligator might be an occasion for certain hashers to rejoice and dance with glee.....In any event, I somehow manage to continue on trail, keeping a close eye out for any creatures that might present a danger. Across brairs and thorns, trudging through forbidding tar-colored streams, and through a dense forest of palmetto, I am somehow able to keep my bearings....
And at long last, I see an opening in the woods, hear a cacophony of voices, and the trail leads out onto an asphalt street with a 'BN' marking inscribed. I see the familiar face of Back Bedroom Bobber and ask him whether I am at a beer stop or the On-In. Bobber, being the man of integrity that he is, politely informs me that there are actually a couple of miles of shiggy left. Hmmm.....well that certainly wouldn't be anything out of the ordinary given my past experience with Cotton's trails. But..... beyond the parked beer vehicle, I find my fellow hashers inscribing their logos with chalk on the pavement. This must be some kind of a beer stop! Geez, Bobber, you actually told your lie with a straight face...I'm wondering if he works in counter-intelligence or something.
As many of us are quite exhaused, we decide to munch on chips and salsa before circle. 3D and Cotton Panel appear to be having great fun dousing one another with mustard ....I'm thinking 2 myself, is this a substitute for foreplay ??? (After all, 3D revealed to me that she and Cotton are remaining celibate for the time being.) 3D is so kind as to rub her mustard-covered posterior against my green bandana. Actually, the scent from the mustard provides a much needed antedote to the putred smell that my bandana has acquired after having been thoroughly immersed in many a North Florida swamp.
And after we have had time to recover from the trail, we begin our Circle...I drink for being DFL, and then drink again for being dumb enough not to remove my bandana in circle. Accusations are lodged, but given the fact that for two-thirds of the trail I was separated form the rest of the pack, it was hard to accuse me of anything other than being an idiot ... and then, because two virgins are present, they are oblidged to come into the center of the circle and undergo ritual defilement ...
When Just Will is asked to name the person that brought him to the hash, to nobody's surprise, he names Buzz Box... But when the British Virgin is asked to name the individual responsible for his presence at the hash, he names none other than the renowned 3D.... 3D, your legend travels far and wide across the oceans....we have you to thank for this British Invasion, don't we ? 3D comes up with a halfhearted defense, "I don't even know the guy" ... Sure ya don't !
At the close of the circle, after we have finished our religion, Sloppy Seconds presents one of his American Counterparts a plaque with the Insignia of the British Navy in honor of our continuing alliance in the War on Terror. Then he goes on about what a wonderful institution the British Navy is, and hands out little rubber stick figures that are being presented as souveniers from the flagship HMS invincible. He also demonstrates how these little stick figures can be made to look like they're getting 'aroused'. Ah, what nasty little minds those Brits have. Then, after having finished their lecture about the joys of serving in the British Navy (no matter how drunk US servicemen get at a hash, you're not going to be able get them to sign papers switching their allegiance to another country - face it, we are no longer British subjects!), they let us know that it's time for them to leave for a 'dhobi' before they meet us at our designated on-after, which ironically enough happened to be an Irish Pub. Nearly everyone but me looks at them in a dumbfounded manner since they don't have any clue as to what a 'dhobi' is. Now, for those of you not familiar with the Viceroy's English, 'dhobi' is an Anglo-Indian term that means a bath or shower. Specifically, when it was used by British officers stationed in India it meant a nice leisurely shower followed by a massage of coconut oil that was usually provided by an Indian courtesan (and sometimes even some kinky kama sutra sex afterwards). I figure that I might be able to use a dhobi as well...
So ... several hours later, having decided that I had nothing better to do that night, I decide to make an appearance at the legendary Fly's Tie. Sometime around 9:15 or so I arrive through the doors of that establishment, outfitted with my trademark green bandana and carrying the weekend section of the Florida Times Union (without which I never leave home). I am warmly greeted by my religious advisor, the esteemed Cardinal Sean O'Donovan, who exclaims "Take off that sweaty bandana". Ah, I take note of one Cardinal O'Donovans many cardinal rules: If you're a non-Irishman (or almost a non-irishman, truth be known I'm actually 1/16 irish, but anyway), never wear a green bandana inside an Irish pub. Moreover, if you are going to wear a bandana, make sure that it's clean. I try to explain to him that I actually cleaned my bandana prior to re-using it, but for some reason he seems less than totally convinced. (More on the saga of my bandana later).
Meanwhile, the Brits arrive on the scene. Although Northeast Florida will never be known for its cultural amenities, at least we have our strip joints. Apparently they have just returned from Wacko's and are a bit disappointed over the fact that they didn't see as much flesh as they would have liked. They mistakenly equated a bikini bar with a topless bar. Note to the Brits: remember, you're in the primitive colonies. We were settled by puritans and we're still a bit uneasy about sex - if you're just after flesh, you'd might as well head across the channel to Amsterdam. Nonetheless, they did somehow manage to make a few of the dancers blush by asking them "Would you fancy a shag???". Some of the performers didn't know what the term meant but were so taken by the British accent that they said "yes". Little did they know what they had gotten themselves into...
After having downed a few more beers, I gab on with the sailors and propose a toast to Her Majesty the Queen. Sloppy Seconds reciprocates my compliment by proposing a toast to the Viceroy. Ah, the wonderful things that alcohol can do for you. The band is blaring away and playing their standard repertoire, interrupted only by a rather inebriated gentleman who knocks over the microphone, and then, ironically enough knocks over the jar labelled 'tips'. Note: It said TIPS, not TIP ! But this is an Irish pub and it's to be expected that a few drunkards might lose their balance.. and the band takes the whole incident in characteristic good humor. The music and merrimaking continues...
The band plays, Buzz Box talks with a couple of tattooed young men, Two Fisted converses with another Red Sox fan, and I imbibe my last drink of the evening (compliments of the gracious bartender). I sit back, relax, and enjoy the music and ambiance...
All this time, however, I notice that a comely blonde has been gazing rather intently at me. Apparently she's rather taken with my green bandana...She boldly inquires, "Can I wear that green banadana?" Meatballs seems shocked with disbelief. Why, in heaven's name, would anyone want to wear PARAMECIUM'S (presumably dirty) bandana? (Face it Meatballs.. Im a trendsetter and at the cutting edge of social change) "Oh no.... OH NO!", he exclaims, "DON'T WEAR IT!!!!!" ... "PLEASE don't wear it !!!!!". But she is not deterred. Meatballs' pleadings seem to carry no weight with her. So I remove the bandana from my head, and she places it around her head in the manner that a southern belle might wear a bonnet. "Oh," she exclaims "Don't you think that I look like Lucille Ball ?" I respond, "Yeah baby, you certainly do, and wouldn't you say that I look like Desi Arnez?" ... and meatballs snaps a photo of her wearing my legendary green bandana.
It seems like, by that point, Meatballs has had quite enough for that evening. Seeing a beautiful lady wear my green bandana was just a bit too much for him to handle. I soon figure that it's also time for me to bid farewell. However, I would like to take this time to nominate our esteemed Religious Leader, the Renowned Cardinal Shawn O'Donovan, as a potential recipient of the 2004 Nobel Peace for his success at mediating a potentially exposive brawl. By paying homage to him, perhaps he will grant me penance for my transgression of wearing a green bandana.
Nonetheless, to all of my adoring fans out there, I'd like to take this moment to offer you a chance to express your support for and solidarity with me by inviting you to wear a green bandana to the next hash or hash-related social event. If you need to purchase one, please contact your local haberdasher....
On On,
Fraudulent Paramecium
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| 03/31/04 |
FMB |
Jax Beach Hash (Stripper Whiplash) |
Back Bedroom Bobber & Winn Dick Me |
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Well it’s never a good start to a hash when the beer moister calls at the last minute and says he’s not going able to make it. Luckily the beer was already cold. Also lucky for us that Bobber moved the start away from a parking lot where cars were being towed. A plus one for Bobber. We were graced with several out of Towner’s, Morning Missile from California, Our Lady friends from Saint Simons Island and Tooth from Savanna. 12 ½ minutes after our hares Bobber and Winn Dick Me off on trail we went. After a count back and a little boxing the trail we found the beer check at a school, ten feet from the cop’s house that lives there to keep an eye on it, a minus one for Bobber. While running behind the school who did I find, but Twat Twisler and Just Brandy running backward on trail. Well we all found our way to the end where everyone drank for one reason or another. Both our virgins managed to lose their bananas. Also a first Cirrhoses of the River got put in "Hash time-out" and had to hide under truck until he was good. The On-After took place at the Cross Roads Show bar. Fraudulent was there already, skipping the whole hash thing, he spent most of the time in the back room. Preteen hounded the DJ all night long, who seemed to like it. The same little dancer, who looks 12, and who gave DICY a lap dance a couple of weeks ago gave Dick on a Stick a bruise by slapping him in the face with her ass. He might even have gotten whip lash. That wasn’t the end for poor Dick, because the next dancer decided to get a little late night snack, Dick’s nipple was on the menu and she took a bite and I think she wanted to get the second one in the back room. He didn’t go, but he may have a date for next week. A good time was had by all, I think -- see you next week.
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| 02/28/04 |
Did I Cum Yet |
Jax Hash #318 -- Shiggy, What Shiggy? |
Cotton Panel and Unibanger... well, sorta |
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Ah, a festive, cold, windy Saturday afternoon is the setting for this very interesting trail. I can definitely say that I have never been on a trail quite like this. Although the physical and geographical aspects of it were quite typical of what usually is spat forth by the Spanking Wankers (this is what I have decided to call Cotton and Unibanger... I don't know why, this sorta shit just cums to me), it was much different; namely because there were only two Hounds. The one, the only I’m Too Sexy For Sex was sitting in his vehicle when this reporter showed up to the scene - which was a Food Lion parking lot somewhere far away from my house. Sexy put his pants on and cleaned up his windshield and got out his car to say hello. The first drop of Hash Beer (naturally I had a go-cup on the way) touched my vessel, and in my mind the Hash promptly began.
Sexy and I flirted for a while waiting for the Spanking Wankers to arrive. Shortly thereafter, we were greeted by the sound of slurping and a slight Unibanger moan. They were here! YAY! We sat around and did Chalk-Talk, basically "Hey let's leave before gets here." We decide that we would all go together since there was no sense in making me have to watch my back with Sexy behind me for the nearly 75 mile trail.
So we were off, we actually laid trail for the first half-mile or so - well, not really, to see what kind of trail marks we were leaving click here for photo. Trail went on through about 26.4 miles of constant knee deep water, ankle-breaking-tree-limbs, and of course, mud. Then we got to the beer check (photo), which took place in the middle of nowhere with ankle deep water all around us. Cotton busted his ass and fell butt-first into some water and we wouldn't help him up until we had the camera and could capture it for all eternity (photo). Shortly thereafter, this reporter busted his own buttocks - but we shall not go into details because it's my Hash-Trash, bitch (but there is this photo). We continued through the swamp/marsh/whatever-the-fuck-it-was pausing every 20 or 30 feet so that Unibanger could release the intense pressure on his infant-sized bladder and so that Sexy, who was about 6 years back, could catch up (photo, and photo, and photo, and photo, and here photo).
Finally we were out of the shiggy -- or so we thought. We came up to a new development (this reporter does not know what it was called, so we'll just say... um... "Sparrows Nutsack") called Sparrows Nutsack. We sort of walked through that - actually I only remember ru**ing on this trail for about 6 inches, and only because Unibanger almost P'd on me - until we came to this reporter’s favorite part of the trail. The Rope Swing! It was quite impressive and if you want to know what it was, then check the some 457 videos of Unibanger, some crazy-ass kids, and this reporter swinging and leave me the hell alone. Shortly after that we were in about 6-foot tall sawgrass (a.k.a. Nature’s Chastity Belt) trying desperately not to get sliced into 45 gazillion pieces. This reporter found it quite easy to do as long as you let The Spanking Wankers walk in front. Finally, after about 78 miles of that, we arrived at a vehicle. Over all, I'd say it was a great time. Even though only four people showed up to trail, we all had fun and we all had BEER (look at the pics, a few show CP with a beer in his hand)!!!
I really recommend that everyone show up to Saturday trails now, while the weather is still a bit too cold for Snakes, Alligators, Police Officers and . But, why should you listen to me? God doesn't even want me.
ON-ON
Did I Cum Yet
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| 01/03/04 |
DICY |
Jax Hash #314 (Hares: Cotton Panel & Unibanger) |
Cotton Panel and UniBanger |
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Time: 1pm
Location: Damned if I know, somewhere in Jacksonville
Weather Conditions: A typical Florida winter day; 85 degrees and sunny
And on to the crap: We all arrived at the parking lot, which no one can figure out how they found, and started our traditional socializing. Before we began trail, CP said we should wait for Paramecium, who promised to supply the food after the trail. 8 minutes later, he arrives, with enough food to feed one ant for about 3 seconds.... but we got that figured out so no harm no foul. We convened into a circle - as is our custom - and sent the hares on their way with very little chalk talk. After about 15 minutes, the pack was getting restless so we were on our way - WALKING! The first part of the trail included many landmarks, the most interesting of which was the burned down homeless camp. The smell of burnt, useless trash still filled the air like those garbage mounds on the Florida Turnpike. Then we continued on our way through a very lush jungle. It wasn't so bad, occasionally we would get our feet wet and a thorn in the shin. Then it began - we started to get into thicker shiggy with thorns slicing through your skin and mud sucking Paramecium into the earth like a giant leach looking for a snack. I had to boyscout and save his life in a daring move that risked the lives of all hashers (and possibly their grandparents) when I stood 2 feet away from his chosen path on solid ground and pulled him out - something I would later have to do a Down-Down for. Basically the pack stayed together, keeping sure not to let anyone fall too far behind. It was a great trail, probably my favorite yet - not too long, not too hot, extremely shiggy, and best of all, Back Bedroom Bobber found his balls! We all celebrated at the end with beers and... no food. But all was well because this reporter invited everyone back to his pad for the ON-After and bar-b-que. I would go into the events and happenings of that evening, but you don't deserve to know the fun/sex/beer/dead-cat-walks/contests/etc. that were had if you didn't show up. Thanks to CP and UniBanger for a great trail and a great day! Until Next time....
ON-ON
Did I Cum Yet
In attendance: DICY, Dead Man Blowing, $5 and a Beer, Cotton Panel, UniBanger, Just Steve, Too Sexy For Sex, Fraudulent Paramecium, Back Bedroom Bobber
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| 11/26/03 |
Fraudulent Paramecium |
Jax Beach Hash #284 (Hare: Fire in the Hole) |
Fire in the Hole |
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It was a balmy November night. The wind was calm and the stars were bright. I arrived in the Costco Parking lot at 19:15 , which is actually 18:45 PST (Paramecium Standard Time), and thus was 15 minutes early. A large assembly of hashers had gathered for Fire in the Hole's first official trail.
Our long lost comrade, Return to the Womb, had indeed returned to his Mother, or , more precisely, his Mother Hash. Our recently departed comrade, Up Chuck F*ck, had returned from the Frigid Climes of the North garbed in Sweatpants and accompanied by his Latest Sweetheart, Miss Big Canal of Melbourne. What's the matter Up Chuck, are you afraid of getting your delicate little legs torn up by the thick briars ? Real men don't wear sweatpants!!! Two comely blonde virgins, Just Caroline and Just Denny, had decided to bestow the Honor of their presence upon us Jacksonville Hashers and were presented with one ripe banana each. A few seconds later, the ever-conniving Typoon manages to snatch Just Denny's banana from her grip, and was soon making Ransom Demands upon Just Denny. What was Typoon's demand ???? Her demand was that Just Denny show her boobies (big surprise there ???). Much to my disappointment, Just Denny did not accede to the ransom demand , yet somehow managed to get her banana back. All the meanwhile, of course, just Caroline does everything humanly possible to conceal her banana from the view of her fellow hashers.
After a very invigorating Father Abraham, and after Fifteen minutes of 'mingling amongst ourselves (why did they give the hare fifteen minutes? They give me only ten when I lay trail solo!), we begin the process of trying to find trail. The trail veers along the side of Costco and under JTB Boulevard. Immediately on the other side of JTB we find an intersection. Most hashers search to the right of the intersection for trail, but 2sexy, Trampoline Tramp and myself seach to the left. After having proceeded for about 20 yards I see 2sexy turn sharply to the left again. I loudly inquire, "Is that another intersection ? I mean , it's so close to the previous intersection" . “Uh, duh Paramecium. “ Trampoline Tramp explains, "No, sexy just went off to take a piss". For some reason I didn't recollect having seen an 'FP' inscribed in the ground . As soon as Sexy has emptied his bladder, he gets back on trail and continues in the same direction while I follow behind. Like the Lone Ranger, Sexy continues along what he PERCEIVES to be the trail. Granted, Sexy is a smart guy, but after awhile I start to doubt whether his perception has any basis whatsoever in reality. Being the lazy bastard that I am, I decide to remain stationary and let Sexy do all of the hard work. I look behind me and see that all of the other hashers are gone. It's just 2 Sexy and me, all alone and lost in the woods.....
After awhile, Sexy seems to disappear into nothingness, the dim flicker of light that his flashlight emits in the distance being the only hint of his existence. Oh, please don't leave me here all alone Sexy ! I've lost trail! But, lo and behold, my hero soon comes to my rescue and we turn around and scout for trail in the other direction. Don't ask me how, but as we walk back towards the intersection, Sexy is able to spot TP marks leading directly into dense shiggy. Into the shiggy we proceed, where briars and thorns abound. Perhaps in my desire to make the intense pain of running through the briars as brief as possible, I decide to sprint though the shiggy as quickly as possible. And, much to my amazement, I manage to catch up to the rest of the pack. Seems like the virgins are still recuperating from their shiggy burns, and I spot Icebox being carried in a pouch on her Mommy's back.
The trail hits pavement, and we all breathe a momentary sigh of relief. I wonder if the end is near, as I see JTB not far in the distance. Not quite, I soon find out. We run through a couple of parking lots and back into some shiggy again. At one point the thorns are so bad that we contemplate jumping over a fence just to get out of the dense vegetation. Alas, the trail eventually leads back to pavement, and this time I notice that the hare has laid some interesting markings on the pavement. At one location, the hare has drawn a heart with the number '69' inscribed in the middle of the heart. Needless to say, I start fantasizing about getting blowjobs...... and then not too much afterwards, I find the beer truck.
On this particular day my competitive drive is on full display as I refrain from stopping for beer in an effort to gain a leg up on the competition. The trail veers northward, leading me to the conclusion that the trail is most likely an A to A. We head through a third patch of shiggy, and end up right in front of the library on Deerwood Park Road. The End can't be far away, can it? We're headed right back to the start.....er. almost the start. Just when I'm almost positive that the trail heads right back into the Costco parking lot, I see a true trail sign pointing away from Costco... perhaps we're nowhere near the end after all.
But we are. We spot the 'On In' at the entrance to the parking lot of Bono's Bar B-Q. There's only one problem...... NO BEER TRUCK!!!!. I'm getting pissed... I had paid my five bucks and had yet to consume any beer that evening. Did Typoon screw up? But have no fear. After ten minutes (that seemed like an eternity) the long-coveted beer truck arrives. And there was much rejoicing......
The remaining hashers stagger into the finish, and Circle commences. It seems like the relatively new RA is having some difficulty performing his duties. He instructs his virgins to peel their bananas in the 'most suggestive..... er sedestive.... er seductive or whatever manner possible. F*ck. It's been a long day'. There's nothing like having Circle led by an inebriated RA. He skips the "Swing Low" and instead finishes with a Hasher's Version of the Lord's Prayer (and who says Hashing isn't a cult?)...."Oh heavenly father (or mother, or transgender deity depending on your religious point of view) give us this day our daily HEAD "...etc...followed by, of course, the appropriate congregational response. "Head, who said head, I'll take some of that...and it was good...."
And on this Thanksgiving eve, we had much to be thankful for... a good trail, good (but cheap) beer, good shiggy, and good camraderie. Our feast consisted of one plate of BBQ chicken and one plate of BBQ pork. Let us take this moment to honor the Pig and the Chicken that sacrificed their lives for us. This Pig and this Chicken did Not Die in Vain..... they Died for a Noble Cause, that is, the Noble Cause of satsifying the Ravenous Appetites of us Hungry Hashers....
Paramecium
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| 11/19/03 |
DID I CUM YET |
Jax Beach Hash #283 |
Cotton Panel and UniBanger |
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-The Wednesday that Felt Like a Saturday in Antarctica-
Time: 7pm
Location: Pitney Bowes parking lot near Beach and St. John's inter-sex-un.
Temperature: Officially colder that a witches teat.
Trail Map: Click Here
And on to the crap: So, we are all awaiting circle, freezing our asses off, and wondering why the hell we do this shit *cue beer commercial*. It was a pretty surprising turn out actually. There was somewhere between 10 and 413 hashers out that night - screw accuracy right? And, surprisingly enough, I think it was the first time that, at the beginning of circle, there were more of the fairer-gendered-hashers there than there were of us Stallions. So, we are drinking our beer and finally circle begins. Cotton and Uni do their Down-Down's and are on their way to lay what promises to be a clear, easy to follow, semi-wet trail. Right? Fuck No! But we will get to that. The virgin ceremony begins as we get three female virgins (since I don't remember their names we will call them Just Michelle, Just Jessica and Just Bob) in the center. I must applaud these ladies for their... um... well... BALLS. All three were somewhat underdressed in some way and were told what trail - specifically CP's - was all about. And even after the joking about the alligator repellant they were completely balls-to-the-wall about taking the Eagle trail. Those not so balls-to-the-wall were preparing for an innovative little trail which CP had devised after hours of sniffing paint thinner. But, since I didn't go with those wankers on their "wittle tweasure hunt," I will not expand on it any further. So finally we are off. Trail starts off pretty well. Within 2 minutes the cold is no longer an issue. Then we find shiggy. We trudge through mud, vines, thorns, old tires, and knee to waste deep water. This is where I get pissed off. Like a jackass, I trusted CP when he said the water doesn't go past your knees. Well, shit, there goes the brand new pack of cigs in my pocket! And so I calm myself by remembering that I have another pack at the beer truck(I find it necessary to run with cigarettes... just in case something happens, I can have one more before death, incarceration, buttloving, kidnapping, etc.). What I did not know at the time was that there was to be no beer checks. None. So we go through a trail that is just a little longer than the Nile River before we finally catch up to the hares (SNARE) - who are just as lost as us and are not sure how to get us out of the Shit-Smelling woods and back to civilization... or Jacksonville, which ever we found first. When I say we, I mean everyone on Eagle except $5, Stiffy and Dead Man. So we finally find a way back to the cleaner smell of Jax except it is through "Lou's Junkyard." Somehow the whole pack makes it through the junkyard without incident but UniBanger and I hang back to make sure we have no fallen hashers. After about 10 minutes of whistle blowing, we get a return whistle and guide the three misguided ones (and their new friend Sarah; A pink flamingo whose ass spins in the wind – Sarah has since been spotted at Logan's Pointe Apartment complex) to Lou's. Just as we get them over the hill of dirt Lou has been collecting to make the worlds biggest worm farm, Lou drives up in his 1986 Caddy and says beat it. We do. Then, ON-IN to circle where everyone is already eating. DFL. Circle is run by Tooth Fairy from that wanker-ish Savannah H3. After some songs, down-downs and the virgin ceremony (only one stayed to do their inaugural down-down: Just Bob I think) it's on to the On-After and the celebration of FPP's 30-something b-day. Over all, an excellent trail with not enough beer and a cameo by Muddy and Yak at the beginning and On-After. If I forgot anything important, quit your whining and write your own.
ON-ON,
Did I Cum Yet
In attendance: DICY, Dick On a Stick, Cirrhosis, $5, Dead Man Blowing, Face Plant Puke Princess, Too Sexy for Sex, Forrest Dump and his Posse', Just Bob and pals, Major Bation, Trampoline Tramp, Typoon, Stiff and Tight, 'Djashityourpants, Scatopheliac, Tooth Fairy, and a few others...
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| 11/08/03 |
Dead Man Blowing |
Jax Hash #310 (Hares: CP & Unibanger) |
CP & Unibanger |
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"I got drunk at circle. You see what happened is that AJ and Alison (nerd names) fuckin threw Jack Daniels down my fuckin throat. They threw it down my Fuckin Throat!" – 3D at the end of trail. But let me back up first.
How was trail? Do I really need to tell you? Those who hare have developed reputations for a reason. So when Cotton hares you can only expect that you will come out of trail battered and soaked. I could tell you all about trail but you’ve been there before so what's the point? I think you would rather hear some 3D trash instead.
I knew I was in for an interesting hash when not 3 minutes after arriving to the hash, 3D has handed me a flask of JD. I took the pussy route out and diluted mine with Mr. Pibb but no, not 3D. She drank it straight. We started trail and she was already out of control. Now I mean that in the most positive way (of course), because anyone in control probably wouldn't do cooter tricks. And who doesn't love cooter tricks? No one, let's continue. We hit shiggy and at first it was a breeze. Back out on the road for a few moments and this is when the fun really started. Nothing makes a neighborhood feel safe like hearing someone yell, "Hey! Let's steal something!" No one jumped on this idea, but 3D was able to convince Paramecium to skip through someone's yard. We all know how daring Paramecium can be. He seemed to be the target of a lot of 3D's attention this day. Once she goosed him so abruptly that he nearly backslapped her out of surprise. Why anyone would be upset to be goosed by 3D is beyond me. We entered the 2nd part of the shiggy trail just as the sun was almost set. Should we turn around, maybe take the road since none of us had a flashlight? “No!” yelled 3D. God bless that drunken girl's loyalty. The trail was so thick and mucky that it was hard for even the soberest person to walk straight let alone a drunk one. Crotch deep we were many of times in mud. 3D however, developed a special talent of getting stuck in the mud at least every 20 steps. Once I turned around and saw her laying on her back in this shit. She had apparently surrendered. Sometimes she was really good and was able to take someone down with her. We were in these woods for a solid hour with no light. Even Icebox was having a hard time. Each of us took our turns escorting the lovely 3D through the woods. Each of us except for Poles. At one point she yelled out ahead, "Some man come back here and baby-sit 3D, I’m tired of picking her up!" I think she was the only one irritated, most of us just laughed our asses off. We eventually finished trail almost 2 hours after starting. Covered in cuts and muck, we somehow made it out alive. I would have given anything to have had a camera on trail. The closing circle was quick because most of us were running behind for Scat’s party (thanks for the bash and bed, we had a fantastic time!).
I think 3D used the right words when talking about Cotton’s trail. "You see, if you just start the trail drunk then the shiggy really isn’t that bad." Remind me next time 3D and I’ll join you.
DMB
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| 11/05/03 |
Dead Man Blowing |
Jax Beach Hash #281 (Hare-Preteen Spirit) |
Preteen Spirit |
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What words could one use to describe last night’s trail? Non-existent, imaginary, fictional, lack there of…all of which come to mind. Trail started at Pre-Teen’s favorite spot, 9th South and the beach. Hmmm, I wonder where we will go? I’m thinking there will be some beach, maybe a little road, wander thru the ghetto and possibly end in a 2 block vicinity of PT’s house. Yep, that sounds about right.
We all watched PT leave the circle knowing that was the last bit of trail we would see that night. In attendance we had…well, too many f’in hashers to name and 4, maybe 5 virgins. Picture Forest Dump, now imagine 3 louder clones of him and you’ve got last night’s virgins. Being that it was UpChuck’s last hash with us for a while, he led us in Father Abraham. And then off on trail we went. That lasted about 7 minutes and the remaining 45 minutes on trail consisted of someone yelling “RU?” with a resounding “NO!” following. The groups got smaller and smaller, each thinking they knew where the trail had to be going. Apparently there were two beer stops, EC at Buckets and Gingers but I sure as hell never found ’em. We finally spotted the beer truck which told us where the on-in was. And you’ll never guess where...two blocks from PT’s. So trail sucked, but at least there were jello shots at the end. We were forced to move circle back to the start because the neighbors were not too happy with our presence. Back at the start we finished circle as quietly as possible (Quiet: a confusing word for virgins). We ate some fried chicken and headed to the Moon for karaoke.
Top quotes from last night:
-Heard 15x or more at every hash, “Hash Hush!!” Cirrhosis of the River as RA
-Heard 100x, “Don’t be so quick to…walk away.” Forest Dump as Justin Timberlake
-Heard only once but that’s all we need, “Man, beer doesn’t mix well with my anti-psychotic drugs.” Paramecium as Paramecium
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| 10/25/03 |
DMB |
Jax Hash #309 |
Sir Wax-A-Lot and Ditchin' Dick |
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It's saturday, the weather's perfect, the beer's cold, Paramecium is late...your typical day at the Jax Hash. We gather in the back lot of the old Shoney's on University. In attendance was Cirrosis, Dick, Dead Man, Dicy, Ditching Dick, Meatballs, Likes to Bang Poles, Paramecium, Dji, Too Sexy for Sex, Winn Dickme, UniBanger, and everyone's favorite hasher, Ice Box.
The only necessity of chalk talk was to explain trail treasure, aka Porn on Trail. -Pause for cheers- After an extended mingle time, we hit the trail. Dead Man was all cracked out on some energy pills 3D peer pressured her into taking and had no problem keeping up with Meatballs for once. The trail had your decent amount of shiggy combined with long amounts of road. We were originally told there would be a Eagle and Turkey trail but Wax decided to scrap that idea at the last minute. So we all took the eagle which led us through a slippery tunnel under 95 or maybe it was Butler...like I said, I was all cracked out. We make it past the two beer stops and straight to the on-in. Dicy who was surprisingly in the back most of the trail was suddenly the FRB. I'm not one to point fingers on competive behavior but I think you see what I'm saying here. Following behind him was Meatballs and then Dead Man. Everyone else falls in shortly behind, everyone except Paramecium, Likes to Bang Poles and Icebox. Wax heads out to sweep the area and returns 15minutes later empty handed. The hashers are getting ancy and decide to eat without our lost hashers. Wax, Dicy and Unibanger went back out on the search and finally returned with Icebox and her owner. Meanwhile, Meatballs has checked his voicemail and received a message from Paramecium letting us all know that he is settled back in his apartment. 2nd trail this week that he has done that...establishing a patten are we Paramecium?
Ok. Circle is brief so that we can jump on the naming train fast. Into the middle Just Marina goes. She was poked and proded, harassed and embarrassed and then sent away. After little was supplied by her so called friends, we each took turns sticking our hands up our asses and pulling out the following names: Leaving Dick behind, Bad Moon Rising, and Red (always a favorite with Dick). At the last minute, Meatballs threw out Ditchin' Dick and that was the end of it. We hugged, rejoiced, drank beer and sang as usual. Oh but wait, you are probably asking..."Whatever happened with the porn?" Turns out that no one found the trail markers. Soooo Wax handed it out to the lucky few. Being that hashers are such good samaritans, everyone excluding two gave their porn to Too Sexy. Excluding the lost hashers, it was a great trail. Now the on-after is a different story but that's a whole other hash trash for another day.
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| 10/18/03 |
Cotton Panel |
Jax Hash #308 (Hare: Pork Me Gentiley) |
Pork Me Gentiley |
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In attendance: Pork Me Gentiley, Cotton Panel, 3D, I'm 2 Sexy For Sex, Fire in the Hole, Slick Willie, Fraudulent Paramecium, Strip My Wood, Like 2 Bang Poles (and side-kick Ice Box), Dja Shit Your Pants
Start: Outside Sears at the Regency Mall
So there we were, all pumped up and ready to get some exercise (yeah, RIGHT!). It was sunny out but in the low 70's with a ZERO percent chance of rain. Perfect weather for a hash!
The pack semi-circled up and sent the hare off running. She left while saying, "It was sure nice to see you all." What the heck was that supposed to mean? After announcements and introductions we tried to do Father Birmingham, but since Sexy and I were the only ones singing and the rest of the pack was looking at us like we had just jumped out of a child-molester's van in a school parking lot we abruptly ended it and I told everyone to mingle amongst themselves.
10 minutes passed and we started our chase after the hare. Ok, to be honest we walked -- very slowly even. No one (at least to my knowledge) had yet decided if they were actually going to run or not.
After a leisurely stroll through Dillard’s and parts of the mall we quickly (and easily) decided that we were very lost (i.e. no trail). Slick and Sexy hit the side exits deciding to run around the mall looking for flour and work backwards to get the rest of the pack on trail.
I met Slick out a side exit of the mall, and off we went across the parking lot and over to an office complex down Regency Square Blvd. 3D and I stopped and waited for Sexy, but he never showed up. I figured he'd find trail eventually, the determined little hound that he is (cum to find out he was almost an FRB). 3D and I then stopped to get a hot dog (w/ sauerkraut) and a Mt Dew from someone who was selling them in the Home Depot parking lot. Through Lowe's and then into very, very mild shiggy we lost trail again. Luckily Likes 2 Bang Poles (and Ice Box) showed up out of no where and let us know which way to go. There we ran into something that confused us (but only for a second): a mark in black on the sidewalk that read: "Path" and looks very similar to a true trail arrow.
Ok, an intersection at Southside Blvd took me across Southside, then back again, then back across again... 3D laughed her butt off at my inability to find trail. Finally, after combing the desert (we ain't found shit), we happened upon a lonely dot of flour in the sand.
My legs were gray, my eyes were old and bent...my thoughts were spinning out of control...we were in the desert way too long! Then there it was. A church and a beer stop! Salvation at last!
De-construction was next on the list of areas our lovely hare was to take us through. Here we lost trail...again. Now, a seasoned hasher such as 3D, Like 2 Bang Poles and myself don't often get lost on trail. So, when I say "again" there's a reason for it. Slick lays more flour than what was on trail today. Flour was sparse, to put it mildly.
Through some wood, over a stream and down to grandmother’s house we went...right onto Mill Creek Rd. Hitting the pavement we trudged on down towards Regency Square Blvd again. 1/3 mile seemed to be the distance in between hash marks.
At the intersection at Mill Creek Rd and Regency Square Blvd I saw a dot of flour right next to a "No Trespassing" sign. I had 3D and Like 2 Bang Poles pose next to the sign for a photo when I noticed that the sign was not very stable. So, I easily lifted it out of the ground and proceeded on (what I thought) was trail. Minus a few bolts and I was left with a very nice souvenir. Strips My Wood showed up to let us know that we were NOT on trail, and where it actually ended (just down the road).
The closer we got to the end, the more we noticed how much more flour was on the ground than before. It turns out that Fire in the Hole actually ran back and put more flour on the ground just for us (that boy-scouting bastard).
In we were, much chili, nachos, crystal lite and lite beer did we consume. We semi-circled up for end session where almost every one drank for backsliding, many drank for various accusations, Fire in the Hole drank for Head (who said head?) Gear...
The desert, shopping, church and beer stops are always a lovely way to make a hash...and a lovely hash it was. Thanks Pork Me for trail!
Quote of the day: "Is that urine I smell? Right, I'm moving."
Excuse of the day: "It's because I ate asparagus..."
Question of the day: "Slick, are you sure you didn't lay trail?"
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| 08/30/03 |
Cotton Panel |
Jax Hash #305 (Hares: Dead Man & Just Eric (TBN Did I Cum Yet?)) |
Just Eric & Dead Man Blowing |
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It's amazing how well the sun in Florida works. I mean, you'd think that at 3PM on a Saturday that 90+ degrees wouldn't be all that hot, right? WRONG! While waiting for the hares to get organized (ha!) we all crowded in the back-side of the Shoppes of Pompous Vedra, hiding in the little shade provided. Sweating while standing in the shade is always a wonderful to start trail. The hares got their stuff together and Dead Man Blowing put on the largest back pack in the world. We (yes, even I) worried about how long trail would be if that backpack was needed to carry flour and toilet paper. It turns out she was just kidding and thew it back in her vehicle. *whew*
3:30pm and the hares were off. They wanted 15 minutes, and since we were all so keen to run that day (read: NOT), we actually gave it to them. We haven't done Father Abraham in some time, instead of break the tradition, we all mingled instead while waiting the alloted time.
When it was time to take off, we all did quite feverently. Well, at least for the first 1/4 mile or so. That's when we hit the only briar patch in Pompous Vedra grown specially for midgets. Remember the wall of thorns in the fable "Sleeping Beauty"? It was something VERY similary to that. Those of us taller than 3' (which means every one except Face Plant) had a very arduous and bloody time getting through it. At one point trail skirted someone's back yard. It seems that I was the only one to jump the fence -- realizing immediately that trail did NOT go that way and turned my happy butt around to find REAL trail.
The shiggy part, unfortunately (cause at LEAST it provided shade), was over. So, out of the shiggy and back straddling A1A headed North we run. By the way, did I mention that it was hot? So, at the corner of A1A and the next road I see the back of an InterAm shirt -- that just happens to be owned by Dead Man Blowing. Halfway between me and her was that damned FRB known to all as Flying Meatballs. Well, I guess I'll rest then since there's no way I'll be running faster than him. Little did I know that actually Sexy would be a short cutting bastard and trail Meatballs by only a few seconds. So I became a witness to the hare snaring. Meatballs puts a mark down with chalk on the ground and the hares are off. Off meaning they left, but not that they did it with any haste. They just started walking away. It seems the stress of the chase, and the blazing heat of the day has already done a number on them, and they're almost dead.
So there we are, sitting in the little shade that we could find (a stop sign) and that's when the cops show up. It seems that the yard owner's children were "scared" by the person they encountered (which gave me a sigh of relief since I then knew it wasn't me -- was Sexy back there?). He, of course, called the cops and it seems they took a whole 60 seconds to respond (nothing better to do in Pompous Vedra, eh?). Do they stop and ask us question? Heck no, they drive right by us as they watch us melt on the pavement. Maybe they felt sorry for us. Maybe they had to go and talk to the yard owner first. Whatever it was, we didn't stick around to find out.
Another mile or so of blistering asphalt finally found us at the beer check. That was short-lived because the cops were way too close for comfort (or so we thought). So off again we went. Almost every one was walking at this point (except for Meatballs of course). Again, because of the heat (didn't mention how flipping HOT it was?) Luckily, it seems that the hares were as beat as us, cause it wasn't long before we found the hares at a house proclaiming it as the "Early Ending" to their death-march of a trail. We hosed each other down and waited for the pack to regroup. Dead Man tried bouncing water balloons off our chest (and testicals) -- oh, what fun ... not!. Once everyone was in we decided to do circle IN the pool at what was supposed to have been the On In. Back to our vehicles and finally over to the real On-In.
At the On-In (Just Eric's apartment complex) we very graciously accepted the cool wetness that the pool provided. We also grubbed on some food to satisfy our stomachs before even attempting to start circle. I've noticed that circle goes much better when tummys are full and thirsts are quenched.
So, all kinds of violations were accused (and proven), and down down's were consumed. But in the end, it came down to a very special (as they all are) naming. The naming, in fact, of Just Eric. To save this from being too long of a hash trash (like it isn't already?) I'll cut to the chase and let you know the "Almost Named Names": Fidel Castrated (since he's half cuban), Pull It For the Priest (caught wanking right before church), Semen Slinger (porn video in college), and many other stupid/interesting ones....but, when we were going through the whole "most embarassing sexual experience that we KNEW about" we acted it out, so that we could get a better understand of how WE thought it could have gone. Here's our version:
Her: *hmmm* *hmmm* *hmm* *hummmm* (she's humming, if you can't tell)
Him: *ZZZzzzzZZZzzz*
Her: Hey!?! Wake Up!
Him: What? Oh...did I fall asleep?
Her: You're damn right you did!
Him: Look baby, I've had a lot to drink. If I pass out again, just keep going.
Her: *humm* *hummm* *hummm*
Him (as he briefly wakes up): Hey, did I cum yet? (passes back out)
So, all of you say good bye to Just Eric and a big HELLO to "Did I Cum Yet?" (or Dicy for short)
On on,
Cotton Panel
Attendees were: 5$ & a Beer, Trampoline Tramp, Typoon, Likes 2 Bang Poles, Ice Box, Dick on a Stick, Cirrhosis of the River, Back Bedroom Bobber, Just Eric (TBN: Did I Cum Yet), Dead Man Blowing, Just Shit Your Pants, Face Plant Puke Princess, Stiff 'N Tight, 2 Sexy For Sex & Cotton Panel
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| 08/03/03 |
Cotton Panel |
Jax Hash #303 by Cotton Panel |
Cotton Panel & Just Randy (TBN UnaBanger) |
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Hares: Cotton Panel & Just Randy -- NOW WITH A HASH NAME: UnaBanger!
Hounds: Scuba Dooba Doo Me, Dead Man Blowing, Just Eric, 5 Bucks & a Beer, 2 Fisted Sock F&cker, I'm 2 Sexy 4 Sex, Veal Vagina, Just Johnny, Fraudulent Paramecium, Likes 2 Bang Poles and her compatriate Ice Box.
Shiggy Meter: 4 (Posted), 8 (Actual)
Gators on Trail: 1 (But he was friendly)
1:45pm on 9A South and it's raining so hard I can barely see the car in front of me. Just Randy keeps muttering, "Awesome" with the kind of glee you only see in 4 year olds. I thought the rain would drive a few people away from the hash -- but then those people wouldn't be able to survive the trail anyway.
2:05pm and I pull into a rainy parking lot with hashers who are already pouring the beers. 2 Fisted uses his "shed" to keep the rain out of the beer and Sexy insists on the Haberdasher stocking new vessels that are "Rain Proof". I went and talked to the security guard (a Brit who's heard of hashing across the pond), just to double check -- he says that everything's cool, but he definitely wants one of our beer afterwards. Just Randy shows off his band aid to everyone trying to get them to believe that he received a tetanus shot for this trail, "just in case" -- when it really was a rusty nail that got him that shot.
2:30pm and most of the people have shown up. The rain has stopped entirely. Paramecium shows up his usual 35 minutes late. Veal and Just Johnny however, are still yet to be seen. Dead Man straps on her "special" head (who said head?) gear in preparation for the trail. She proceeds to do the "retard" dance...only she thinks she's acting unusual -- none of us notice. After distributing the snake bite kits and giving lessons on "How to Cross I-95 with traffic" the hares took off while telling the pack to wait on Veal and Just Johnny.
Everything pretty much went as planned for the first part of trail. The ankle deep water we turned into shin/knee deep water with the recent 12 inches of rain. All the water down the very old trails had a very orange glow to it. Is that normal? Slightly slippery, but we'd (of course) never complain about it being too wet! Crossing I-95 was easier than expected due to traffic backing up and coming to a complete stop. We casually strolled across the road while waving at people as they looked at us dumbfounded. How the rest of the pack would make it? Hell if I know.
Directly after I-95 was the little pond with the gator we had spotted while scouting earlier in the week. We didn't see the gator at all this time, and figured that to be a good thing. The pack however, found the gator with flour on him. I guess we were closer to him than we thought. Oops!
A few more trails with knee deep water lead us to the Julington Creek Cemetery. There 2 Fisted was waiting on us as our dedicated beer truck driver. With it being hot and humid, we were happy for the break. We had already gone through 4 rolls of toilet paper and 3 lbs of flour. Would 4 more rolls make it? Sure, it's only another mile or so to the end.
Within 100 feet of the cemetery we hit the cypress swamp. It's a dark, deep, wet and actually kind of scary swamp. You just know it's the kind of place where you're going to step on a gator's tail at any moment. Number of gators present? Zero. But that sure as hell didn't make us feel any better. I was really fraidy scared. With the water level at least a foot higher than expected I was worried about Ice Box (Likes to Bang Pole's dog)...how was she going to make it through this stuff? That's a heckuva lot of doggie paddling!
The "stream" which couldn't have been more than 30 feet across and crotch deep was now about 60 feet across and armpit deep. With the swamp being fully underwater it was hard to tell where the stream started and ended. But when Just Randy had to start swimming -- I finally figured it out. Just Randy was nice enough to cross the stream....twice...just to make sure that I wouldn't get any of my technology wet.
With the stream out of the way we knew the thick stuff was coming up. We crossed a trail road and then jumped into some warm, knee deep water where trails had never even been considered. It looked more like Mangrove swamps than anything. It's the only way I can describe it. With each step you worried if you'd sink in some deep hole. With muddy, dark water and thick trees shadows were be cast that just made it all the more eerie. This was where Cortez would have said, "Screw this. Send in the slaves first. If they come back -- it's safe." We, all alone in the woods, had no such safety net. Then, out of no where we hear Cirrhosis and Just Eric talking -- within only a stone's throw away! Off we were like rats out of an aqueduct. Only it there were 1 inch thick vines covered in 1/2 inch barbs (no lie) all at neck level (take a look at Just Randy's thorn necklace).
It's impossible to run through this kind of stuff -- but we sure tried. But when it's this thick, and you don't want to get people lost you have to put toilet paper at least every 5 to 10 ... so, inevitably we ran out of toilet paper -- major bummer. No need in running any more, I figured. We "let" (like that, do ya?) Cirrhosis and Just Eric catch up with us...figuring we'd go ahead and wait on the pack so that no one would get lost. According to my GPS we were only 300 ft away from the end. However, that 300 ft was some THICK crap...not something they could just easily following without any hash marks. If you don't believe me, you come on one of my trails and tell me so.
Waiting is obviously not in Cirrhosis' blood -- because forage ahead on his own he did. He eventually found the road (which is where the end was) and met up with the beer truck. There we found Likes 2 Bang Poles, Ice Box and Dead Man Blowing relaxing in the beer truck. While waiting on the rest of the pack we decided to send a few back with vehicles and end back at the beginning (since it was much less visible from the road). The rest of the pack showed up with 10-15 minutes. I could hear Just Johnny bitching and cussing for at least 10 minutes before we even saw him. As he pulled away the branches enough to see me through the wall of vines his eyes lighted up. "Awesome f'ing trail!", he said. The rest of the pack filter in, with Veal in the back -- carrying his A back (US Army medical bag). Geeesh.
At the end I decided to skip the usual, "No, you can't eat until the end." rule. There was a huge storm approaching and I didn't feel like eating in the rain. Plus, after a trail like that everyone deserved a bit of a reward (as if beer wasn't enough, eh?). Much food, salsa & alcohol were consumed. Much hydrogen peroxide and rubbing alcohol were lathered on bodies in an effort to keep away infections and Poison Ivy.
There were many accusations in circle: Veal for peeing on trail. Just Eric for competitive behavior for saying, "I thought I was doing pretty good?" (when asked about his running the trail). Fraudulent Paramecium for complaining about having to run behind 5 Bucks (that's a bad thing?). Veal and a few others for chivalrous behavior (I can barely spell that one). Cirrhosis for having snared me -- again for having done it twice within 12 months. And many other people for various stupid things. It all came to an end when it was time to finally name Just Randy. We gave him 60 seconds to describe himself -- he only needed 10. He explained that he had a rather non-descript kind of life with very little interesting within it. We went directly to questions. Have you ever been arrested. Favorite Barnyard animal...blah, blah, blah. Anyway, we finally got around to his sexual preference (yes, surprisingly enough it IS women). And finally someone asked how many women he had been with. One was his answer. We all were silent as our jaws hung open in surprise. Even Sexy finally responded with, "And they say I'm BAD?" (self incriminating evidence that his virgin status is gone?). Anyway, we were all stumped -- nothing really sprang to mind. Then a sparkle happened near 2 Fisted, and he took advantage of it. "Unabanger", he blurted out. We all gasped again, for somehow it just fit perfectly. I took a vote to see if we even needed to continue. Continue lost, so naming we did. Just Randy did his final down-down with that title, and finally became UnaBanger the Jax hasher.
I had a great time...and I thank all for cumming and enjoying the trail.
All of the above is loosely based on fact...some parts more than others. The names have been kept the same in order to incriminate them as much as possible.
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| 06/28/03 |
Shitburgler |
Jax's Orgy in the Woods IV |
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W3 h@v3 Ur H@$h$h!T.... !t !$ $@f3 4 n0W.. W3 W!lL s3nd R d3m@nD$ S0oN...
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| 06/07/03 |
Lil Red Dryer |
Jax 'UNF Swamp' Hash |
Lil Red Dryer |
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Bears eat Alligators
UNF Campus Update:
Special Edition
University of North Florida:
Bear Sited Near University Entrance
A black bear has been sited around the Kernan Boulevard entrance to the University. The University Police Department and the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission are aware that the bear is around, but it does not pose a danger. It's important that the bear not be approached. If you see the bear, please call UPD.
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| 05/14/03 |
Flying Meatballs |
Jax Beach Hash |
UCF and Wack's a lot |
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I like to think of this trail as the blind leading the blind. As it turns out Up Chuck didn’t realize that he was haring so not only did he not have time to pre-lay he didn’t even have time to scout. So he Sir Wacks A Lot offered to help him, he obviously didn’t have time to scout either so I out of the kindness of my heart give the hares a few ideas about the neighborhood, since I’ve hare there a few times. Now you may ask why didn’t I just hare? I had to collect money and run circle, good thing because Face Plant tried to start walking early on our poor directionally challenged hares. Don’t worry I made him drink later for that. As it turns out they needed all the time they could get, but more on that later. We had a nice surprise because Slick Willie is back from his single-handed assault on Baghdad. We also had a few visitors from Houston who looked all too fit and runner like for our happy drunken group. I pack of about 25 circled up and sent our soon to be lost hares on their way. After smoozing the campus security guards, Thanks Slick) and holding off the group attempting to start walking after only 8 minutes the pack started walking at about 12 minutes. As we moved across the FCCJ campus I got off trail and keep going off towards Beach Blvd, just because I didn’t want be mean to the hares by going directly to where I had directed them, As it turns out the pack was soon heading my way from the other direction and we converged on the paths that go through the woods at the west side of FCCJ campus, not where I thought they were going. Now the problem is that the hares took the path that leads right to the back of an apartment complex that is surrounded by a 10-foot fence with spikes on the top. I took the path next to the one that the hares took because it’s faster with no fence. As I got out onto the street who did I see, our lost hares who spent the entire time we gave them trying to figure out what to do about the fence. After I snagged them I told the Hares which way the beer check was and I sent them on their way. The rest of the pack showed up there after and we waited 5 minutes to give our poor lost bunnies a chance to get moving. Luckily for them the quick Houston hashers respected reach and every boob check even when we saw the hares passing by the beer check. We all took a long slow beer check. To give the guys a chance. So off across beach we went. When we got to a familial little bridge we all got caught in a boob, yak, boob check trifecta on the bridge. This gave the hares just enough time to finish up next to the Budweiser plant as the two Houston “Runners” were sprinting to “win the Hash” The circle that followed had no naming or Hash Shit (Veal), but plenty of accusations ranging from Peeing on Trail (Dick) to attempting to do a Doofus impersonation by trying to take over circle. The on after took us to the Pub where our Houston hashers tried to kill the entire Jacksonville hash by buying them a couple of rounds of “good beer” All in all a good Wednesday night trail and good on-after.
On-Out, FMB
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| 04/17/03 |
Dick Upon a Star |
Savannah's 3rd Annual Full Moon Hash |
Tequila Tony |
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So there we were, at StingRay's on Tybee celebrating the birth of Chocolate Starfish, when don'tchya know, it's time for Nykki (In that company, I was a nerd) to go back to town. Yeah. She's really tired. Um, hm. Happy Brithday - Love you! I am such an asshole. And if any of you ever blow off my birthday for trail...I'll kill you. Oh, yeah. You'll be at the party. Anyway, I made it to the hash on time. Dressed all pretty in heels and a scarf. Greetings, greetings and hugs to everyone! NNAli and NNAJ came up with Cotton Panel, the Loverly 3D and the Loverlier Veal Vagina and ALL of Savannah showed up! Chaps, Splitz, Red, 2th, Blue, Stump, Glad, Gags, Mo Pee and Nekkid Hare TTony. Crack blew out her tire, so she only had time to blow in and blow out of the hash before we all took note so she could get the hashit! So, we lubed up with Off and 2th started to do warm up circle. He managed to get through the introductions of the Jax Virgins (they'd never hashed in Savannah kind of virgins) while I was changing my clothes. Oh, yeah. This Dick is multi-talented, baby! Then he did the most obnoxious rendition of Father My Name is Abraham Button Joe. AAAAAQRRRRRGHGH. Then we were off. The trail was dark and the reeds were high and we were plowing single file through brambles. Immediately through brambles. And you were suprised? The hare was nekkid! Of course there were brambles! Lots and lots of whining too. Hm. Note to everyone: It's a full moon hash. TTony is the hare. You will get wet. You will get scratched. So, we immediately got hammered by the hasher eating briars and came upon an open field where 2th was manfully scrambling for something...anything to cover his wee willie. I couldn't figure out why until I saw the guy on the golf cart trying to tell Splitz..."No, I don't need to see your boobs." (Refer to phot exhibit #26) Officer Stump got the situation under control and 2th took off his clothes again when the guard eventually let us back into the deep, dark, shiggy. We're walking, we're running, we're ducking and trying to show the Jax Hashers how to wend your way through the shiggy. (Very carefully, and don't pop the person behind you with branches) when all of the sudden it got very quiet. And then there was a gasp. And then there was a splash. And then there was a mighty pissed of Gags A Lot up to her boobs in the water. Not a big deal when expected. Quite frightening and a little funny when one minute you're fighting your way through honeysuckle to the next when you're hovering about 2 feet above the water deep enough to wetten the nipples. Anyway, Gags got out and caught her breath and the first..."Do you really think trail went this way, it's wet" of the season was thoroughly discussed. TTony is the hare. You will get scratched. YOU WILL GET WET. Even if the water crossing was a BT, you were gonna get wet eventually so I figured. What the Dick. I'm going in! WAHOO! Up to the nips in muck and clambering out the other side. Quite fun. And the worry of the hashers behind me warmed my heart. Eventually, everyone was out and we were on. We had a nice little mini reprieve before more scratches and swearing. My goal was to make it through the whole trail without one whine or ouch or scream. Sadly, that was not to be the case. One lonely little bramble just wouldn't let go, and before I could stop myself...there was a resounding "Ouch" that passed through my lips. Dammit TTony. Come to think of it, at one point in time on the trail, you were called every name in the book. I distinctly remember "TTony, you asshole." (Splitz) Fuck you TTony. (?) All interspersed with screeches of pain and glee. (Stump, Dick, Cotton, NNAJ) Faboo trail. We kinda missed the beer check, though. Did anyone find the beer check? Par for the course. Savannah NEVER finds the beer check. Anyway, there was a 2nd water crossing with the Knight In Shiny Armor (Or was that with a shiny chin from 3D) warned everyone that it was slickery on the upslope. He was there with a hand to pull us out so we didn't fall flat on our asses back in the water, and start a vicious cycle that would never end. Kind of like that Greek guy that had to roll a boulder to the top of a hill while getting his intestines eaten by a vulture? I think his name was Mephistopholes. Anyway, Veal's a butthead and he charged through the water on the side, scrambled out and didn't help anyone else. Selfish prig. I yelled at him and think I actually made him feel bad for a minute. Then we kissed and made up and got to hold hands for the rest of the trail. (Photo exhibit #54) It was a nice night with a slight breeze, so those of us taking up the rear (Not UP IT, just behind everyone else) decided to disrobe somewhat. The puppies were breathing on the race track! It was quite nice. So, we're walking, holding hands, wondering where the beer is when all of the sudden....from sowmehere to the East came a missile flying out of the air. Silver. Straight as an arrow. It was a beer and 2th threw it at my head trying to kill me. He hadn't found the beer check, he found the end of trail. Came back tryng to commit the perfect murder because hashers are drunk and wouldn't notice that I was missing, and the body wouldn't be found in the boonies for days. Oh. Sad, sad day. I thought you were a friend. Just goes to show you. Anyway, time to run into the On-In. So, I handed Veal my bra and grabbed my boobs in my hands and ran for the beer. There was a guy sitting in a Bronco watching the boobies...so a sarong was chosen to protect the puppies. Circle was fun because we had jello shots! (Thanks Mom. You rock.) And I got to rub my boobies on Mo P, and make out with Blue. And then Jax went home and everyone else went to TTony's and sat in the hot tub. And jumped in the pool. God it was lovely! Then went home and went to bed. And moaned under all of my shiggy scars.
TTony, SHITTY TRAIL!
Thanks, I needed that and the Jax hashers had a ball too.
On-On
Bloody Dick
ps,
Nekkid hashers were:TTony, Stump, 2th
In Thong:Red, Chaps, Splitz
Eventually letting boobies flap in the wind:Dick, Mo Pee
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| 04/05/03 |
Dick Upon A Star |
Cooper River Bridge Run (Chareleston, SC)) |
Shit Happens |
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I think I spent the weekend at Shit Happen's house in Charleston...at least I have a train ticket stub that says I did. But, since the train was s cheduled to arrive 2 hours late, I stopped by the bar for Gimlets...and the rest is pretty much a blur after that. Everybody and their dog took me to the train station for a rousing send off and to say hi to the Jax hasers already boozing it up on the train. Much Rum and 2 bottles of Boones Farm were downed by Cotton Panel, 3D, Just Randy, Up Chuck and Princess before the train rolled up into Charleston. But, not enough liquor was imbibed to give Up Chuck the good sense not to try to steal the tiaras off of the 9 year olds on the train.
But, alas, we arrive to be greeted by a Shit Happens and Amkneesia who came to pick us up to continue the party! I think it was probably a really good one...but I don't remember setting up the tent, getting my crap from Driver's Wanted or the air mattress blown up. Don't remember any of that as a matter of fact, but I believe I slept well.
Immediately had to start boozing again once we woke up. After all...the trash was running their little hearts out over the bridge...the least we could do is cheer them on! Walking into the restaurant on the beach, a very loud "Thank God they serve liquor," cracked up the little old white haired lady. She was a big fan of the hash. The little bit that everyone was wondering whether she was shaved into a lovely Hitler was not nearly as impressed with the boisterousness that is, well...SCAF and a bunch of Bloody Marys. (And the big mouth on Dick that actually did the asking about the Hitler.) Boob called while we were dining and told SCAF to grab the Whooopdee and get the runners...as they were waiting at Big John's after the race.
So, we get back to Shit's..people fade into the house and various sleeping bags for a little nap or the mad search for Driver's Wanted's keys.
About 45 minutes and a blistered ass later (No back seats in the Whoopdee, and I was the 3rd wheel) SCAF, Crack and a Dick on Fire stumble into the bar. And start pounding bourbon, as no one from the Trash was to be found. Looking a little to the left, there was a framed article featuring a bunch of men running around in red dresses. You think it might be a hash bar? So, we did what every red blooded hasher would do. Ordered more drinks and got a pen to sign the frame. Going back to the blistered asses...you should have seen the look on SCAF's face as Boob screamed at him to get the Whoopdee back, dammit. (Boob was kidding. Good joke. And the Oscar goes to Boob and Scabby for the best performance by a duo.) Driver's wanted finally found his keys and he and Uranus and Screamer joined us for some more beer and bourbon until it really was time to get the Whoopdee back.
Crack drove the Cobra and bet SCAF's she'd make it back to Shit's house first. Definitely a safe bet. Especially considering the ease in which SCAF gets lost in strange cities. You know the old adage, "Never follow Dick on trail?" Yeah, well it's been upped. We ended up going over the bridge about 4 times, and the only reason it wasn't 5 is the antics of our fearless leader. (Wrong way down the service road...) It was an adventure and we were off. Into the hood and over that fucking bridge one more time. But, we had beer and we had money. All we really needed to get was a clue. About 45 minutes later though, there was a need for some serious sunscreen! Wine coolers at a 10 dollar bottle of SPF 45 later (note: do not by sunscreen at the convenience store) I had the base for a great tan and a decent buzz. By this time, everyone was at the beach so we made a little detour. (And drove around lost again for the next hour.) Somehow though, the caped avenger that is SCAF managed to pull his underoos snug enough to find Poison, Whorenado, Shitty, Scabby, Buck, Chaf and a very grumpy Boob on the beach.
Aaaah. Naptime. (Only after dissecting the bloody stump that is my toe. In all her grace and glory, Dick fell down, go boom. Thanks for playing nurse, Whorenado. Need to get you one of those little white hats an ever so slightly snug uniform, hehehe.) So, we pile into the Powder Puffmobile. God you are a sexy beast driving the little pink steering wheel, Poison.
Meanwhile, back at the ranch....2th ran out of gas. On the bike. And we drove past? Well, Shit Happens. And we got back in just enough time to get ready for the pub crawl! And getting ready consisted of the girls climbing into a tent together and making Glad fetch us beer when we had to come up for air. Loaded onto the busses. I took a little nap on the way downtown and then the crawl was on! Buck and Scabby were a riot with the whole introductions and "Hello, my name is Joe." But alas. I GOT PASSED OVER FOR A GRATUITOUS FLASH! What the hell is up with that? I freed the puppies anyway. They needed to breathe.
Hm. Let's see if I can remember any of the pub crawl. The first stop was the American Legion or something like that which hold a lot of fond memories for a Savannah hasher. Wink Wink 2th. The ever prepared Poison whipped out the beer pong while the other table was doing three man. Things are starting to get a little fuzzy from this point on. I know that Holy took some great pix with Boob's camera. I know we had "nachos" at the 3rd or 4th bar. I know that Cotton Panel was drinking! Ha! You little drunkard you...mofo being every other word out of his mouth, that boy is a hoot when you get a beer and a half in him! Just Randy is a big old cheater at pool, and 3d's a bit of a shark. There was a serious string of moments swapping lifetime experiences with Holy before Princess and Amkneesia started the cool kid's club that is "The Puke Patrol". (No fear guys...I joined your esteemed ranks Sunday morning) Got to meet some of Amkneesia's contemporaries from the office...and actually did a jello shot check outside of her office! Quite cool. Dancing, Dancing, Dancing at the last bar. Shake that booty thing.
We got back to camp to meet and greet Little Shit and drink some more. I vaguely remember watching the sun come up with Whorenado. No wonder I feel like such shit today.
So, after a little nap it's time for Shit's Breakfast and beer. Then the trip for the best damn Bloody Mary in the world...from Shem Creek's Bar and Grill. I had about 7 Mary's before I threw up, then switched to Rum for sustenance. After much speculation, it has finally been confirmed that Shitty is indeed my Daddy. We drank more. I ended up at a local bar with Slappy at one point. I believe breasts were shown. Watched some TV. Passed out. Cold. For hours.
And ya'll were suprised that I snore? Ha. I say, Ha. I might snore, but I woke up with a blonde on my arm! Ate some Chinese and then went back to the train station to discover that I had lost my ticket. 45 minutes and a 30$ charge later, guess who finds her ticket in her wallet where she left it? 3D, bless her heart, went and got my money refunded...Her words went something like this..."My girlfriend over there, the one who lost her ticket? Well, she found it. Yeah, she's a blonde, but she can't help it, she was born that way." I laughed until I thought I was going to pee. Cotton had the farts, Princess snored and Up Chuck kept telling people to synchopate him in his sleep. 3D, Cotton and I went on a little adventure while looking for sustenance and actually ended up in the baggage car. Kinda freaked out the conductor, but we did find swallows of water. It was fun, I'm babbling, feel like hell today and had one of the best times of my life. Don't know how I'll be able to wait a month for Cinco De Mayo. And by the way, Cinco De Layo promised I could tag her for her birthday. Grin.
Dick Upon a Star
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In my opinion, that was the BEST hash weekend I have EVER had!!!! Mountain Yak, you knucklehead; what the hell were you thinking by not coming?
Shit Happens....it just keeps getting better and better, you never cease to amaze me. (And yes everyone, I saw him, he was up and at 'em bright and early; shirt & tie and all Monday morning)
Thank you for an unforgettable weekend Shit!
Funny stuff I overheard this weekend:
- Buck and Scaf sitting down at the buffet table infront of the chicken wings and saying "It doesnt get any better than this"
- Cotton ordering an ice cream sundae from ShemCreek..."To go"
- Man in Locals Bar saying to Dick "nice meeting your breasts"
- Shuttle bus driver advising Boob to remove empty beercans from his Impala before driving back to NC.
- Manager of Shem Creek (a former co-worker ofmine) telling me "You guys don't have to leave, but I can't serve you any more alcohol!"
Slappy
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| 03/22/03 |
Dick Upon a Star |
Jax 'AGM' Hash |
Cotton Panel & Mystery Guest |
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The night ended with Twister and Vomitting...but what a beginning! Poor, sad, lonely Dick was stuck in the Great White North at a wedding. The I Do's were said and the Dick was outta there. It seems that there was a hash party to attend in Jax, and the wedding reception was dry. You do the math.
So I climb into the Princess mobile and head south. 6 1/2 hours later I finally pull into something that vaguely resembled my destination when off in the distance I hear an On-On and a whistle. Yup. I have arrived, time for beer. Beer Bong, in fact. Closely followed by Dick on a Stick's first bonger of the evening. Aaaah. Sharing re-discovered talents. It was lovely. Turns out 3d and Pussnatchio are old pros...and if rumor be believed, NNRandy and Drunk Me, had never before done a beer bong! Meatballs picked up the slack and demonstrated the how too. Kudo's to the beginning bongers...very well done. And it's just like riding a boy, you'll never forget how. Greetings were done and bug spray applied by the time the "pack" started to dribble in. Did anyone actually run trail? Seems that the locals were restless and shining a bunch of flashlights toward the wayward hashers that were running along a fence. Silly hashers thought they were supposed to jump a fence on one of Cotton's trails and completely missed the whole in the fence and ran the whole way along the fence (thus pissing off the locals) until they hit the YBF. So, everyone turned back. About 7 days later, the smelly hares come in. (Cotton Panel and Aunt Jemima.) Ooops. The nice, easy 3 mile trail ended up being closer to 6 miles long. Good thing no one did it then, huh? NEWS FLASH: This just in...5 people actually completed trail! Veal, Waterboy, Doofus, Short Bus, Numb Nuts all finished trail. My sources have confimed that the hares were snared first by Veal Vagina, and they were stopped by security in TPC only 3 times. Trail treasure in the form of a baby stroller was thrown over another friggen fence before they pulled it through the sand traps in the championship golf course...a mere week before the tournament before dragging it into the On-In. Food was eaten and then we pointed at Doofus and laughed. Kudo's on the food, guys...Wa Wa, your potato salad is da bomb, baby, da bomb! And circle commenced! VO, the auspicious RA led a noisy and rousing circle full of virgins and sluts alike. Everyone drank. And then drank some more. My personal favorite was pushing Doofus into the circle while he was sitting on the trail treasure (stroller) with a sippy cup and sucking his thumb. Jacksonville is SOOOO gay. Virgin Just Something Girl (we think it's Dannette or Jan)proved over and over throughout the course of the evening and the clubhouse that Trampoline Tramp is the one that makes her cum. And Just Something Boy (we think it's Dan or Dave) pulls Red Wing Hoover into the circle for the sexiest banana peeling and deep throating seen on this side of the Mississippi. Whew. So gay. Then, we partied. A few ended up in the hot tub. A few in the pool. The hardcore went back for more beer bongs! (Actually, the REALLY hardcore retired in the bathroom for a good porking.) This just in: Uncomfirmed, but multiple sources have alluded to an unfinished sex act in one of the stalls. Seems she giggled so much that he couldn't keep it in. Eventually, it was time for the crux of the party. The awards. I don't remember much of the awards (3 beer bongs later)...but this is the gist of what I do remember. Cotton Panel got nominated for best and worst trail awarded worst. The same people keep getting the Jacsonville hash shit over and over again. Then the Jax Hash history was given. Never knew! The hash lineage was interesting...thanks for that! I get both hashes confused, so I'm going to muck this up...names to remember and revere: KFC, PBU, Thor, Butt Hare, and Doofus took over the festivities at this time and tried to convince everyone that he is indeed the long lost hash god, here to save Southern hashes from themselves. Then we heard lots of how Palatka got started from Yak because Doofus kept fucking up the stories. Oh, and Jax is gay because Yak likes to pee on girls and it scared all of them away and Drunk Me broke up with him for 3 months for it. Quite entertaining for a while, but eventually just descended into the chaos that is the hash. We drank more and more people had sex, then we chased down Meatballs for my favorite part of the evening...the tag presentation. Doofus got out of towner most likely to take over (go figure)3D got hasher most likely to be injured from sex. Princess is the hasher who hopes his girlfriend doesn't find the picture page. Veal got hasher most likely to scare piss out of girlfriend on trail.
Up Chuck in abstentia got hasher most likely to end up with a broken nose for cockblocking the wrong person. Meatballs even made a tag for Up Chuck's Dad! (sorry, had to give that mention. I thought it was pretty cool.) Um, VO got rankest farts, Yak got most likely to masturbate in public, Cotton is the one that needs to buy a globe so he can remember he's not in Guam any more. Shitty got worst quote from a hasher (he said that 3D's tits were played? Yeah, I don't get it either.) Bob has more meanings for his name than anyone. Cirhosis is the hasher most changed with one stripe of a razor. Paramecium (in abstentia) most likely to show up 40 minutes late to a hash. Tramp was most likely to get nekkid. Come to think of it, her pants were undone for most of the festivities. Crap, I can't remember the rest because I had to take a little nap, but ya'll are going to have a ball for the next few months reading each other's tags. Major found some more people porking in the bathroom and then everyone went home. Veal puked, sexy wore a dress and we played Twister. (There is video...) 3D fixed waffles, and I'm still in Jax.
Thanks very, very much for a great time and the compliment of an invite. Everyone needs a place to run away to and you're mine.
Special thanks to Meatballs for the slide show. The memories were incredible and it means a great deal to a lot of people that Next Week was remembered alongside KGB.
I'm starting to get all vechlempt and shit...so!
On-On
Dick Upon a Star
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| 03/08/03 |
Dick Upon a Star |
Cotton Panel & 3D's Hash Wedding |
CP & 3D |
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From far and wide they traveled to celebrate the union of our beloved 3D and Cotton Panel. Event starts at 2, trail at 2:30. I arrive promptly at 3.
only to be soundly greeted and "sob" spanked by hashers from all over. God I love Jacksonville! In all colors and sizes they showed up in gowns of lace, satin and tulle. And the girls looked pretty too. Special props to Redwing Hoover for the addition of the blonde wig. Hash Pastor 2th was resplendent in his gown, sheep slippers and Pope Hat. Rumor has it that Meatballs was wearing a tux g-string, but I guess he was being shy. Veal, you should be ashamed of yourself for showing up in the same teddy as
the bride. That's considered tacky in most circles. Pre-teen had the good sense not to lie and wear white...but looked lovely in ivory nonetheless.
Up Chuck still obviously shops at the Salvation Army. Doofus and Paramecium donned granny dresses for the occassion, Stump and Blue from Savannah were adorable in matching veils and tutus and the guy from W. Palm??? Had the most amazing beadwork on his hat and tutu. Cheezus, I gotta tell you. Lavender and beige are definitely your colors for lingerie. The chest hair peeking out of the lace was...yum. If you were dressed up and I forgot you, sorry I was drunk. So, we managed to get everyone out back for the ceremony where I was given the honor of giving away the groom. (who by the was was hot in her little black bikini tux. Ass looked great when laying trail, darlink!) So, with tears of laughter and joy I managed to give the groom to her blushing bride and was promptly thrown out of the circle as it was time for some serious groping. Hash Pastor 2th gently but firmly placed the bride's hands on the groom's booby and the groom's hands on the bride's pecker and it was all over after that. No one paid any attention to the rest of the ceremony as the groom was giving the bride a handjob. If you would like to know what was said in the ceremony, please refer to your tags, lovingly made by FMB to depict what we missed while watching live porn.
Worth mentioning was the fact that 2th had to be coached in how to pronounce "cunnilingus." He had no problem with the word "fellatio" however. Just cause to stop the wedding was thrown out, as not everyone has had a chance to tag that ass yet. (Either one, I'm sure) but the ceremony proceeded regardless. There was a tense moment when the groom was asked if she takes this man and she distinctly said. "I won't." Turns out she was just kidding and she continued with the handjob. Meatballs, the ring bearer, chained the happy couple together after the throat swabbing kiss and they were off. Then, hash pastor 2th put all of the hasher's names in his pocket and made everyone draw one for their partner. If you do the math, you will notice that that won't work when trying to determine pairs, so we all wandered around looking for the pretty one that we were going to marry.
We were married, and we were off. We ran about 47 feet before coming to the first beer check which just happened to be in a Ryder truck. We drank some beer, waited for the DFLs and piled into the truck to ride about 467 miles with a bunch of stinky hashers singing S&M Man so we could continue trail.
We got out, had another beer stop while the hares awayed and then really began the adventure that was the wedding hash. Here is MY experience on trail. We did some good street running through Jacksonville to some rubbernecking motorists stopping to see all of the men in lovely gowns.
2th pitched a little princess fit as Princess stepped on his train and ripped it off. (please remember to slap me for this) I carried the train until we got the shiggier portion of the trail...lots of little fences and water. At that time, my darling husband took up the chore of 2th's train. You don't want to litter, non? He managed to hold onto the train until a rope swing proved to be too much temptation. Just Randy, our fearless - non littering hero, stuffed the dress in his drawers and slung himself up onto the swing with a few well placed yeehaws. Ooops. The dress is slipping. In a valiant effort to save the gown (which hadn't already been stepped on, smeared in the mud, and used to pull briars out of the way) from falling into the nasty creek...our fearless hero Just Randy took a header into the water. Hehehe. Well, probably not so funny as that is loosely based on fact where as I really did land my happy ass up to my armpits in water. Twice. The smelly tunnel with full of 6 inches of water was killer and Doofus White Boy is my hero as he managed to produce a warm vest to cover my wet and shivering assets. Then a bunch of now REALLY stinky hashers piled back into U-Haul (which made for a great excuse to fall down onto
another stinky hasher and not so subtly cop a feel) to return to the Shire and hash through a residential area until the on-in. A few warm showers and tons of great food later, we were ready for. Well. for a nap, actually. I curled up on some sarongs in the office where I was promptly joined by Little Crack Porn for a session of looking at our respective eyelids. Only to be abruptly woken by a click and a flash as some ass decided to snap a pic. You know who you are, and you will be punished. It was time for circle anyway. A couple of Dew Beers later and we were good to go! Yes, Veal. Mtn Dew, Red Bull or Gator Ade mixed with your beer is always a good thing when one is planning on a bender. We sang, we spit, we celebrated and we were divorced. The highlight being the lovely banana that was shared by Virgin Kendra and Little Crack Porn. Welcome darling! You are a doll.
Swing Low later, and we were ready to party. Dick Tricks by 2th and Cooter Tricks from 3D. Sexy was just showing everyone his pecker because. Well, because he always does. Many, many shots of Jack Daniels were imbibed before we decided to go party at Flys Tie! Princess Puked and had to sit in the back of the truck, but we all made it safely. We sang, we danced, and Up Chuck got his second date of 2003 with the brunette he was making out with and her family of bull mastiffs. The hashers were even asked to entertain while the band took a break. The Days of the Week went over pretty well, but Allhouetta was ixnayed with some really loud music. C'est la vie, non? Sexy fell asleep on the bar, I got hit on by a blonde with
big tits and all was good with the world until we were asked to leave. (not due to bad behavior this time. It was 3 AM) We got back to the love shack and watched about 3 minutes of really bad porn before everyone retired. We awoke to the sun in our faces, the smell of sausage in the kitchen and some really heinous hangovers. Wathced a little Monty Python and managed to wake the last slugabeds with a rousing rendition of "I'm a Lumberjack" before laughing through Van Wilder and parting ways until we meet again.
Cotton and 3D. May your life together be filled with much laughter, joy and blowjobs...and enough challenges to keep you interested for a long long time....
Dick Upon a Star
SH3 in attendance: 2th, Dick, Blue, Stump, Crack, Cheezus, 3D
Jax in attendance: Cotton, Meatballs, VO, Princess, Up Chuck, Likes Her
Likker, Redwing Hoover, Pre-Teen Spirit, Cannabis, Cirhossis, Paramecium, Bloody, Wa-Wa and lucky fiancee...congrats! Just Randy, Just Rob, Virgin Kendra, Veal Vagina
Gainesville in attendance: Doofus White Boy, Hooked on Furniture (congrats to you two as well!)
Sorry to those I forgot and who I can't remember your names. I was doing shots with 3D before she passed out. I promise to try to remember next time!
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| 02/05/03 |
Dick on a Stick |
Jax Beach Hash |
TwoFistedSockFucker & Pussnatchio |
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It was a dark and stormy night...okay, so it wasn’t stormy, but it was cold. Cirrhosis and Dick On A Stick showed up at the start, and I believe were the first ones to block the neighbor’s driveway, but certainly not the last. There we found Pussnatchio, Just Jen, Shitty, and Two Fisted standing in his driveway looking lonely, waiting for more hashers.
First things first, Dick had to mark his territory...”Two Fisted where can I pee?” So off to the fence he went. Now that I think about it, Dick got to know that section of fence quite well! Now that that’s over with, where’s the beer? We didn’t have to wait long, here cums Major around the corner...No, don’t block the neighbor’s driveway Major. Beer’s here, much happier. All of a sudden, hashers started cumming out of the woodwork. There were the perennial backsliders Just Johnny (get named already!!), Buzz Box, and her beautiful hunk of a man, Veal Vagina. And Buzz brought a virgin, Just Melody! Woo Hoo!!! Then the regulars trickled in...Purple Pony Pumper, Short Bus, Platypussy, VO & Do Me (do they count as one hasher or two, now?), Meatballs, that cute little Face Plant, the newlyweds Cotton Panel & 3D, Trampoline Tramp, Up Chuck, and the tastelessly late Paramecium. VO started the circle at the normal time...half an hour late...Dick sang a song, and off the hares, Two Fisted & Pussnatchio, went. Then we drank more beer, followed Up Chuck’s VERY SLOW version of Father Abraham (speed it up, dude!), and did introductions. After a VERY generous 15 minutes, the pack was off. Boy it was shiggy!! Kept tripping over those cracks in the pavement!! The first leg wasn’t too bad. It was very educational...we passed a school. Dick, don’t pee on the school!! Too late. Yay, a boob check! Thanks, 3D! Wait a minute, did I hear correctly? Did Shitty just say he was sick of seeing 3D’s wonderfully perky boobs? Don’t ruin it for the rest of us Shitty!!!!! Forgive him 3D, he knoweth not what he sayeth! Ah, finally the Beer Near mark, and go figure, right after that was the beer stop. Much beer, much mingling, and we were off again. More education, another school! Thank God we didn’t blink, because next thing we knew it, the ON-IN mark jumped up and slapped us in the face. Cool, more beer! VO re-convened the circle. There were many down-downs, many accusations. Happy Analversary to Buzz Box (10) and VO (160, get a life!) Happy Birthday to Trampoline Tramp. Hash Shit nominations followed: Shitty Lay for his painfully idiotic remark about the ever lovely 3D’s breasteses; Purple & Major for their pathetic attempt at a Hash Shit voting conspiracy, and Up Chuck for doing something dumb. The votes were cast, and Up Chuck got it. What did you do, anyway? After a very respectful singing of “Swing Low” (see Meatballs, one version CAN be enough!), our circle was over. Two Fisted provided some barbecued weiners and we drank more beer, but alas, the night had to end.
On-On hashers, see you at the next trail!
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| 02/01/03 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash |
Doggie Treats |
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Trail of the Phone Whore: 2.1.03
Start: Albertson’s Parking Lot
Beer Check: Fishing Hole at Lake Geraldine
On In: In the court yeard of Doggie Treat’s house
Hares: Doggie Treat
Time: 4 PM Hst (4:30 beccause the pack was at the wrong side of the parking lot)
Total Distance: 6 miles (longer for the idiots who couldn’t find trail after the circle jerk)
Weather:
65 dergrees and dropping.
Hasher’s Present: Doggie Treats (hare) Cotton Panel, 3D, Upchuck Fuck, Face Plant Puke Princess, Veal Vagina, Too Sexy for Sex, Gigalo, Jets Blow So Do I and Big Bloody Ketch-Up.
Virgins: Just Todd
Visitors: None
The Run:
Yours truly in an effort to run set a trail “Chicago Style” forgot to mention what side of the parking lot the circle would be on. So the pack waited 18 harrowing minutes with in throwing distance of the Hare before calling and finding out where she was. After several minutes of debating where exactly the pack was the pack moved over to the other side of the parking lot where marks were already on the ground for chalk talk.
Chalk talk began after more confusion on who was running the circle. Not really caring what the protocol was the hare once again did it “Chicago Style” and kicked the GM out. Trail consisted of two kinds of flour red and purple and was said to spread out over five miles much to the grumbling of Sexy. Purple to the beer check and red from the Beer check to the end. The pack was then warned of the false trail marks, the one Back Check on trail and that three were on.
The hare in her ineptness forgot to mention she absentmindedly set a backwards mark, more about that later. She did mention though that the Shiggy on trail was being watched be three or four very upset dogs and that the marks heading into that area should be ignored.
Trial set off across University Blvd immediately to a Check heading west the pack would have encountered a YBF heading east the pack would find themselves running down St. Augstine, running through a bank parking lot and on to Dupont Ave. Easy enough Dupont being less that a mile long only one or two false trail on it. After hitting the first major check at the end of Dupont and San Jose I hear the pack dispersed. Those noticing the clear visible mark directly across the street followed trail into a circle jerk from Salamanca back to San Jose. Trail then did a strait shot on San Jose from then on until the pack came upon a Beer Near Mark and arrow stating to cross the street and run on Cornell. The Beer Check Followed shortly where a gaggle of geese were having a family dispute in the middle of the street for at least 20 minutes before the pack arrived. Thus slowing the traffic of the cars coming and going. First to arrive at the beer check were Gigalo and Virgin Todd carrying a banana. Shortly after was Jets Blow and the rest of the pack walking/running. I must say that the hare, yours truly, has no perception of distance at all so when asked how much further the trail was going to be most people ignored her seeing as it was a mile longer than anticipated already. The pack dallied a little while longer and was off following different color flour to the ON IN. Trail seemed run of the mill even after the BKCK 2 but ran into an apparent brain fart on the hare’s part when the pack found a backwards facing arrow. What’s a pack to do but split up and look for true trail signs? To my knowledge only two in the pack didn’t give up and retrieve their cars. These two managed to find trail but then got stuck in a circle jerk less than a mile from the ON IN. That would be Big Bloody and Up Chuck who from my understanding was actually following Big Bloody instead of the other way around. Mean while the auto hashers arrived in an oddly timed manor as the screwy mark was half way between the start and the ON IN.
The ON-IN
The ON IN was held in the front court yard at Doggie Treats apartment. No there still isn’t any furniture in there but that not a problem. Cotton Panel was RA. Comments on the run were: I couldn’t find trail off that cirlcle, whats up with the backwards arrow, I have sex every day but not with a person, Up Chuck is the person you don’t follow this is different, next weeks will be shorter and I hope this picture won’t show up anywhere. The hare was given a down down and was ejected from the circle.
Virgins: Our one virgin carried a ripe banana on trail the whole time and was promised that a female would eat it with him. We greeted Just Todd by screaming HI ASSHOLE, then was instructed to seductively peel the banana. Gigalo was hesitantly brought forth to eat said banana from the non useless end but was not secure enough in his manhood but virgin Todd was. In an effort to hasten this circle the hare asked to see this manhood so we can get on with things. The RA then asked if a female would come forth and eat with the virgin and Veal Vagina promptly yelled “I cross dress” while erratically waving both arms. The banana finally consumed, got their down down then both hashers were ejected again from the circle and we moved on to birthdays, accusations and special notices. Just Todd is a virgin no more
Birthdays, Accusations and Notices:
Cotton and Too Sexy were given a down down for matching skull coverings
Gigalo was given two down downs for saying the e word and telling the virgin the wrong information.
I think the auto hashers got a down down I could be wrong but if they didn’t they should have.
We all drank a down down for birthdays.
The Hare wished every one happy ground hog day.
Had a Moment of Silence for the Doomed Columbia Shuttle
Sang raucously loud songs in honor of ZiPpy at the same time.
Swinglow was sung Superman Style then with Reverence, then the circle was done.
Quotes of the night:
(I wasn’t writing this down so they might not be word for word quotes)
Those Norfolk Hashers are some smart sons a bitches.
You have to have a sense of humor for this.
No Sexy your supposed to be in between us.
He says they’ll be shiggy but I’m heading that one its all side walk.
Kiss my ass (said numerous times by yours truly on a daily basis)
The hash dispersed between 7:30 and 8 PM
Your stiff legged hare,
Doggie Treats
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| 01/25/03 |
Anonymous |
Travellin' to the SavannaHHH |
N/A |
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Sure, make the drunkard do the hash trash. Well, due to circumstances beyond my control and lack of ability to decline a good shot of tequila...this week's hash trash will take the form of Mad Libs. You fill in the holes. (And if you spent all weekend doing just that, more power to you!) So Thursday afternoon rolls around and Mo P rolls in. Everyone goes to Sandfly for trail, and Stump (hare) fell on his ass on top of his flour bag. I've seen you him look pasty after a hard night of drinking...but whoooeee! He was awarded the hash shit for that one! Circle was fun and loud and in Deb's Pub and Grub so we could be closer to the food that was arranged by our Fairy of the 2th. (Rock Star) Then we got forewarning that Jax is Gay was on it's way to Deb's as we were speaking. Yak, Just Thumb, Wish and Muddy all showed. There was some dancing, some accusations of cooter sightings, Mo Pe's yummy Jax is Gay Jello Shots, and for some reason I decided to give up my explicit fantasies of Drunk Me laid out on a picnic table. (We'll, you've seen her. Who wouldn't have fantasies?) Segue to Friday. LOOOOONNNNGGG hungover day at the office. Short Straw and Mo Pee show up to leave love letters for NNShawn and then we started boozing it up.
Short stop at the Bar Bar where we discussed manners in polite society. (I'm pretty sure it was a hypothetical sort of thing...we are hashers) and ran into TTony. Then it was off to he world famous Pinkie Masters! More Jello Shots abounded and the peeps started to roll in. Stump and Blue Light, Porcelina, Next Week, Up Chuck, Puta, Cooter, Fondue, 2th, Ear, Crack ummmmm and Chaps and hell if I remember. No slight intended...it was a long weekend. Um, L'il Red? Anyway, we pissed off some really rude dart players and just generally hung around until it was time for the next stop which needed cups. The beer check was cold...but really funny! Then we went to my new favorite place. The Office Lounge. It was a dive from hell, but the bartender told me to bring in a list of CD's and he'd hook me up. I think that bar was the moment when my hangover started to blossom....had some rum.
Ooops. I also think that was the bar where Mo P picked up her 12 year old? Hm. Have to check the facts on that one. We sang Jesus Can't Go Hashing and the old guy behind the bar kept trying to throw out verses...quite fun. Another beer check at 2ths truck and we were off to Blaine's where come to find out Blaine is from Wyoming! (I was very excited about this) We danced and groped and had free tequila shots and I kicked Short Straw's ass at pool, then promptly got mine kicked. Then Up Chuck and Puta had some drama and Up Chuck puked. We ran screaming out into the night and ended up singing Kareoke at McDonough's for a minute. Um, that's where the gin got whipped out. Then it was off to the river. We may or may not have stopped at Chucks and then proceeded to JJCagneys and the realm of the great artistic unwashed. I believe Short Straw kicked my ass in pool right there...not sure. Ex boyfriend bought nice shot of cognac for the Dick and the night gets hazy after that. We walked about 47 miles back to the car and ended up at Krystals for about 3 hours so we could get some food and then took a little nap before the hash. MEANWHILE, back at the Ranch. TTony and Crack being the generous and kind hashers that they are took a very drunk Up Chuck back to my place where he was undressed and put to bed, only to wonder around the house on all 4's looking for a place to puke. Made it out on the porch like the good house guest he is...but he kinda forgot to stop at the end of the porch and that's why our friend Up Chuck has a wound on his forehead. Up Chuck...when crawling around on all 4's...if you feel something pounding on your head...it might be a chair. At a ridiculously early hour Puta got very, very loud. (Indoor Voice darling, Indoor Voice) And Germy and Eric showed up to fix breakfast. Ringing the Princess doorbell. Seems that Germy wanted to greet me with a little good morning fart and shat upon himself instead...so when I walk into the kitchen...Germy's wearing my underwear and giggling. Finally get the whole story from NNShawn and we stand in the hall while Germy's in the bathroom. Someone who is very rude yelled out Shitty Shorts and woke up Short Straw and the day began. (Chocolate Starfish and the Scat Man have been tossed around as possible names for Germy...just for the record) Bloody Mary's and eggs benedict later, SLAB showed up with yet more jello shots and the day starts to get a little fuzzy. We cracked open the champagne to try and combat the hangovers, you know how it is. IHOV and Cornhoolio made it just in time for the mass exodus that was getting to Tybee. We probably shouldn'tve stopped for gas and got Dick a 40 on the way. My bad. Anyway, we pull up to the pavillion and what greets our bloodshot eyes? A bunch of hashers! The Trash was there, Jax was there, I was there. Everyobody was there and I was hammered. TTony led the introducions and then the hares were away. (Did anyone make them drink for biking on trail? I know they're gimps and all...but) I hop in the beer truck and go to the beer check hoping for a little nappy poo before the pack arrived. Didn't so much happen but whatever. NNShawn and Germy were playing cribbage, so I had to put my 2 cents in and spill some beer on the cards. I'm told it was quite charming...Back to the Dunes where we milled around for a while and probably drank more beer. I really couldn't tell you. Circle is a bit of a mystery, but I'm told someone shit on me and then I got an awesome tag. (Which I did manage to keep tabs on for the whole weekend. Yay me.) The next 2 1/2 hours of my life were spent looking at my eyelids as I had to pass out. I was abruptly awakened by Short Straw slapping me in the face just in time for the pub crawl. Where I drank a lot of water. But I got to sing Kareoke again! Delta Dawn baby. And thank you, thanks ever so to all my fans for coming out and supporting me. I'd also like to thank God and the Academy for this award. (And whoever started yelling encore? Love you.)
GladHeAteHer was next in line for kareoke with a lousy punk rendition of "You're So Vain." You can look for our compilation album in stores late next summer. Off to the Wind Rose where I drank more water and forgot to flirt with the cute bartender. But, did have a nice discussion and demonstration of real versus silicone breasts and got to re-live mounting Drunk Me on that lucky picnic table as she was curious and the rest is none of your business. Anyway, big fun was had by all, especially the old Tybee drunks sitting at the end of the bar who go to watch as we compared aeroleas. 3D? Perfect Darlin'! Aaaah. The hash. Boob Teaser, in his wisdom, decided to put a CHTR3 On-On foot on a cop car and oops, got busted and was told to go back to the hotel. Lots of people stayed in other bars doing other drinking stuff. But I needed the safety of the hotel.
So...watched people play 3Man for a minute and then succumbed to the call of my eyelids once again. GoodNight, and thanks for coming to play with us.
Please, fill in as many blanks as possible....
On-On,
Drunk Upon a Star
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| 01/01/03 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach 'New Years' Hash |
Flying Meatballs & Mystery Hare |
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It all started off innocently…or so I believed. Meatballs had asked me to co-hare with him earlier in the week, but after my Blair Witch of a Saturday trail he thought it best if I removed my name from the New Year’s Hash altogether. I readily agreed.
We met at noon to scout trail. A simple 1 1/2 mile trail he told me. The hashers would be hung over, and the last thing they needed was a long trail. Hell, they’ll still be recovering from Saturday much less New Year’s Eve.
Into the first mile I started to gleem just what Meatballs was up to. By the second mile I was extremely suspicious. Well into the third mile it hit me much like a lemon, wrapped around a gold brick does. He was trying to get rid of me. No one knew I was out here (except for 3D, but that doesn’t count). No one expected me to show up tonight (going to have to hang my head low for a while after Saturday). He was going to knock me off in the middle of the woods, dump my body somewhere and let the gators take me away.
...then I woke up with my cell phone ringing in my ear. Meatballs wanted to go and scout the trail at noon. Already damp with a nervous sweat, I said, "Ok. Noon it is." with a slightly shakey voice. This is how the day began.
I survived the scouting, much to my surprise. Meatballs did drive me (many times) to the point of exhaustion (with a 3 1/2 mile trail), but that’s just because I’m simply so out of shape. Back to our houses we went to make salsa, get beer and prepare for the real thing.
We showed up on time (actually a few minutes early if you believe that or not). Most of the pack showed up within the first 15 minutes or so. Cirrhosis had shed his mustache in order to make up for the pounds he was now carrying around his neck. He somehow knew I was haring, and figured he’d be well prepared (this time) by bringing his compass, binoculars, cell phone, flashlight, pick axe and flare gun along with him. There was a bit of a worry about WaterBoy and WaWa…but that was all quickly dismissed when Cirrhosis put his foot down and told them they’d better cum or else. He wasn’t about to run a trail where Cotton Panel was present all alone. Redwing showed shortly after. He questioned who the ‘Mystery Hare’ was, and upon finding out that it was me replied, "Oh shit." Or at least I think that’s what he said (it could have been something worse). Paramecium was fashionable late (as always), at about 4:30pm. Everyone was obviously running low on energy, so Meatballs decided to shorten the trail A LOT and make it only about 1 1/2 miles after all).
A few down-down’s later the hares were shoo’d off by the acting RA WaWa. I wished I could have been there to see the outstanding version of Father Abraham and his Seven Daughters, but alas, I was well underway. I heard it will be repeated, by her, very soon at a hash near you. Please insist a repeat performance if she doesn’t volunteer immediately.
30 minutes or less and it was all over -- at least for the hares it was.
It only took us half an hour -- we started to worry a little when 15 minutes had passed and no one else had showed. The beer truck finally made it’s way in with a few details of what had happened. It turns out Wilbur and WaterBoy hit the YBF along A1A, and instead of turning, they decided (having many years of hashing experience) to go straight through it. They even turned around after passing it, Yelled "YBF" at the rest of the pack , but continued to run the wrong direction. Red Wing Hoover was so dumbfounded by their actions he thought old-age had crept up on him suddenly, alzheimering his brain. Disabling him from comprehending their actions. He did, however, turn at the YBF, enabling him to forgo their same mistake.
3 1/2 miles later Wilbur and Waterboy turned around, realizing they were far from catching up with the hares. A good *un they got, the hares they lost. Now, with all of this *unning they did (7 miles of it), they still managed to come to the end before the rest of the pack… by at least 40 minutes. Fradulent Paramecium come strolling back, but from where trail had left the start. Meatballs and I looked at each other in confusing -- it turns out that he failed to find the trail altogether. His vacation in Washington must have been one helluva a good one up to have him lost that easily on trail.
3D also said that Red Wing had called (right after the YBF) asking where the beer stop was (can you blame him for that?) There was much arguing between the two since all Red Wing wanted was beer, and since 3D knew he was only within 500 feet of it. When Red Wing finally made it to the beer stop, he tried to coerce her into spilling the beans about where the end was. 3D’s infamous response was, "I don’t know where the end is, but I do know it’s DEFINITELY an A to B trail." Red Wing, satisfied that he at least now had a small upper-hand, progressed on.
Cirrhosis, armed with my camera and still pissed at me about Saturday seemed to have taken some interesting photos (like the one of the garbage). In order to get back at me he figured he’d "waste my film." Little did he know he had a digital camera in his hands. Waste away, buddy…I don’t pay for the prints.
WaWa and Cirrhosis also got lost temporarily sidetracked at a house that had been decorated with toilet paper. Figuring this was the end of the trail they went in, looked for refreshments, and upon finding very little beer realized that it couldn’t possibly be a hashers house and crept quietly out the back door.
An hour had passed at it was starting to get dark (and cold). We had already started cooking, and eating the hotdogs and sauerkraut…figuring the last of the hounds should trickle in any second. Meatballs went looking for the pack. My phone rang. Red Wing said that he followed a piece of toilet paper into some shiggy, but trail just ended. I laughed and told him that it probably means it was bad trail, go back to the last intersection and try a different path. Meatballs returned after marking the few intersections left so that they’d get to the end as quickly as possible. I informed him of their location, "They must be FORNICATING on trail!"
Everyone made it to the end just as the sun went down. It was dark, there was beer and hotdogs, so there was much rejoicing. A simple circle was had, where everyone drank for one violation or another. I don’t remember all of the violations, but I remember where Red Wing was going to be made to drink for taking to long to get to the end. He responded with, "There isn’t a time limit! Remember Saturday’s trail?" The Graduate even joined us while out riding her bicycle (yes, she drank for auto-hashing.)
Satisfied with beer and Mountain Dew (well, at least I was) we rode off into the sunset (more like inky blackness)...with wonderful memories of the first hash of 2003.
If there are any typos, mistakes or non-truths, then please forgive me. I’m in an post-panic high from NOT be exterminated while on trail, alone, in the mean streets of Ponte Vedra beach with Flying Meatballs.
CP
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| 12/28/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax 'Last of 2002' Hash |
Cotton Panel & Veal Vagina |
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The Blair Witch Hash
I wasn’t going to write this Hash trash, but as I looked down at the blood soaked red water pooling around my feet while I was taking a shower I felt I had to. The signs were there early that this was going to be one of “Those” hashes. I got to the start just a few minutes early looking for the Hares. When I didn’t see them I made a call to Cotton Panel to see where he was. Still at the Winn Dixie on Atlantic next to the Home Depot was not the answer I was looking for. So I tried to entertain the people who slowly trickled in. But enough about that lets get to the trail. The trail that went through at least 5 peoples back and side yards. But Cotton Panel was thinking, knowing what problems we’ve been having with the local police, he chose to go through a neighborhood that had it own private police. Thank goodness when the security car pull along the pack that guard was probably too fat to actually be able to get out of his car. So after 4 miles and 63 minutes of swamps, golfers, rich peoples back yards, and private security forces we finally made it in to the first of three planned beer checks. It didn’t take too much convincing to have the hares shorten the trail, after all the sun was going down. So off we went on the “ short le of the trail. I managed to catch the hares as they were entering the wood behind the movie theater on Phillips highway just as the sun was going down. We decided to proceed together to the next beer check. Then the real fun started. We went into the wood and to put it plainly, then the hares got lost. Our hare pack had grown to four as Cirrhosis Of the River joined us. With all those people we couldn’t find the way through the woods. Of coarse it was dark by now and we had managed to get into the really think shiggy, as my scarred and bloody legs will attest to. Finally, after lots of trying to push through, we just tuned around and tried to find the trail back. That only cost a few mort scars and another pair of sunglasses. So as we emerged from the wood s back into the movie theater parking lot, we wet from sweat and swamp, cold, it is December, and we had no cars or cell phones and were about 5 miles from the start. And Oh yea, with all this I was slightly pissed off, just ask Cotton Panel what some of the names I called him in the woods were. So after we contact the beer truck and get it to the parking lot we were able to actually have food and a circle. It was three hours later and most of us were freezing because we were still wearing something wet. So a word to the wise, Put extra warm clothes and lots of Band-Aids in your dry bag when Cotton’s the Hare. I’m sorry for any mistakes or typos, but I’m a little dizzy from loss of blood. FMB
Special Awards for this Trail.
Dumb Ass how many times do I have to tell you this isn’t Guam award: Cotton panel
Next time leave some fucking bread crumbs award: Cotton Panel and Veal Vagina
Best Quote: “ I was waiting for someone to die so we would have something to eat” Virgin Brett
Most creative stringing to together of expletives: Flying Meatballs
Smartest wimpy move that worked out great: Cannabis Licked Her for jumping in the beer truck after the first beer check.
Clothing item most happy to see didn’t get destroyed on trail: 3D’s thong.
Most lucky he doesn’t drink alcohol or he’d still be doing down downs: Cotton Panel
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| 11/23/02 |
Anonymous |
Savannah Hash #154 |
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Hash Trash #154 -Gobble Drivin, Gobble Cryin
It just goes to show you it's not what you know, it's who you know or how long your tongue is...Hare's away promtly at 4 for Rambler and Chap's 2nd Anal Turkey Day Extravaganza...therefore the pack started showing up at around 4:30. Everyone sporting a hangover and tons of food...3D and Cotton were already there. Blue Light, Stump were next on the scene, Next Week and I drug our happy asses in to be closely followed by 2th and Amnesia from Charleston. Who by the bye, had already laid trail in Charleston, what a trooper!...Tony showed and Cooter rolled in. We sang, did some down downs, passed out hunting vests and the hares finally got off (um, Rambler, you owe me 8 bucks for the drycleaning) at around 5P. The trail that led us through the boroughs of Richmond Hill included a peafowl roost. There was a big cock in the middle of the driveway. I thought it quite apropo...and we did convince Stump that the peahens were pretty, not lunch. Then there was more road and then a field with a fence and then we came upon the hash bus with the beer. Where we waited for the hares and the rest of the pack to show up. Did I mention that it was a whimp/hurt like hell trail? Amnesia and I being the sensible little hashers we are, took the whimp trail. I still managed to find the one pricker bush anywhere within 4 miles and slice up my legs...but no one was really suprised. I would like to post here for posterity's sake that DICK DIDN'T GET LOST. That kinda blew the pack away, but there's a first for everything...non? Anyway, the hares come in all wet and panting to mock me for not being able to figure out how to open the side door to the hash bus or turn on the stereo. But can you blame me for not wanting to waste much time on the incendentals? Amnesia's cute as hell. When the bus is rockin'...don't come knockin! 2th was FRB. And had a lovely TTony story. Seems like there was a run in with some hunters, and TTony casually strolls up and asks if they've seen any deer, "We're on a nature trail, dontchya know." 2 points TTony! Who was next in and informed us that 2th was polite to a redneck. I didn't believe it either, but when 2th was pressed to refute the propoganda...he just grinned and said, "He had a gun." Well, my faith in the world is a little shaken up, but the sun will rise tomorrow. We did have some concern whether or not it would rise for Cooter though....So there we were! At the hash bus, drinking the SH3's adult beverage of choice....(PBR for the curious) watching Cooter make his way down the RR tracks in the dark. Wow, you see the hasher behind Cooter? They're really bookin' it. And check out that flashlight! That's pretty flippin' bright. You think we can find one at Wal-Mart? OH SHIT, COOTER GET OFF THE TRACKS! And, as the Amtrack is crawling up his ass, he's standing there debating on which side of the tracks he should land. There was a moment of abject terror while we contemplated having to call the appropriate authorities in the chance that Cowboy Bart didn't make it in time to save the Damsel in Distress that is Cooter Covers. But we were much calmer when we decided that we didn't absolutely HAVE to call anyone until after supper and circle. But Cooter made it safe back to the bus and Amnesia slapped him upside the head for scaring the hashers. So we sat and waited and froze our nuts off because the temperature was reaching ball busting single digits...(Did I mention that the Hurts Like Hell trail had water crossings up to the armpits? I think someone else should elucidate, however. Bein's that I'm the smart one and did the whimp trail and stayed dry in the freezing cold weather.) 3D and Cotton came in with he camera from hell and we all huddled for warmth. All the sudden, all 12 of us were in the back of a VW bus groping and hugging and all sorts of big fun. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Li'l Red and Crack had shown up! Yeehaw, the party was on and the circle commenced. It was very light in the loafers in deference to our Jax backsliders...Li'l Red added a house to the hash shit which was promptly appropriated by Moi as a new pocket book. Crack got the hash shit. And then we ate. We ate for hours. Filling our colons and intestines with elbows on the table! It was quite a sight. 14 hashers sitting around a table with nothing to say because we all had our mouths full. (Now, if that doesn't start some rumors, ya'll need to get your minds back in the gutter where they belong.) We cuddled on the couch watching SpiderMan while trying to digest some of the food...then everyone was fluffed and ready to go to the On-After. Cafe Loco's for Drivin' and Cryin! Chaps and Rambler....I would like to take a moment to thank you for your wonderful hospitality this weekend. And Chaps boobies. It was all lovely. You see, Rambler is cousins with Tim who's in the band. So we packed up an assload of food, and got into the show for free and drank the band's beer. Hehehe. We sang some ditties, we drank too much and we practiced spankings. Some went back to the hot tub for water sports. And I got to make out with Amnesia. (She'd never had a tongue ring...and thought a show would be nice.) There was a bit of a SmackDown practice in the pool. (I won...doing Germans, you know) and then we all went our separate ways. This being the Turkey Day Hash....I am thankful for many things this year. The safety of LOHL and Splitz, no DUI's over the weekend, an occassional lay, spankings...stuff like that. I am rich with friends, and that particular aspect of my life only gets fuller with every run I make with you people. Thank you.
-Sappy I Love Everybody Dick
p.s.
Rambler...Next Week? What did you do to Fluffy? She's been cowering in the corner for hours and won't come out. Shame on you. She's just a puppy.
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| 10/17/02 |
Anonymous |
Savannah Hash #143 |
Dick Upon a Star, 8 No F&cking Homo |
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Holy hellfire, Batman, did we have a good time or what? Wiggles, Puke, Flipper, Trust Me and 3D, oh my!...thanks ever so for gracing us with your presence last night. It's always nice to let new blood...but sadly, 3D's Virgin Mom was the only bleeder last night. But that's another story...Um, since I hared, you get my observations...someone else can do trail tales! So, the hares NNJeff and Dick pull up to the Waving Girl after conscientiously setting the beer checks for the thirsty hashers that can't find beer checks, only to be greeted by good friends NNMike, Rambler, Chaps, I Forgot, Blue Light, Stump, Crack Porn, TTony and aforementioned visitors. We had some beer and laid out a mess of chalk for the virgin hare's talk. (Not too badly done for a newbie...Rambler. Leave them alone. The kids can do just fine on their own.) Paying particular attention to the lick check, of course. Then the hares awayed, and dumbass actually stopped and turned around when asked about the color of his chalk. NNJeff, I hang my head in shame for not warning you of this childish prank. I have not done my duty by you in guiding you through your first trail joke. Can I ever be forgiven? And I can't believe you fell for that, you wank! Anyway, we take off running up the stairs from hell, get to the top, lay the first intersection and the Dick promptly loses the co-hare. (please, no comments from the peanut gallery) NNJeff takes off and lays some trail and Dick sags along behind laying false trails and trying to figure out where to find the elusive co-hare again. Thankfully, NNJeff is a rather meticulously anal sort of a guy and stuffed a map marked in red in my boobs before trail started so I was eventually able to find him. I think it was right around the back check that had to be counted three times because NNJeff couldn't count that high. (14? I know, I thought he was smart once too.) Rumor has it that the first beer check was missed. Um, big surprise. I think we're 0 for, what is it now? 143? anyway, the first beer check was amazing and since no one found it, we'll do it again later. Bye the way, did anyone go back and pick up the beer? Some downtown bums are going to be very happy! The 2nd beer check though, a thing of beauty if I do say so myself. Construction site complete with PBR and a port-o-pottie. How classy is that? Um what else, oooooh. We thought that the rolling stones lick check was very clever. Did anyone notice it was actually carved into the cement? And, did anyone get any action there? So, the hares met again on Broad and held hands while skipping down the street, through the ghetto. NNJeff was very sad that no one followed trail up the big hill, over the wall and down the big hill, all in sight of the on-in. Jeff, darlink. I coulda told you no one would do it, hashers can smell beer...and when the scent is that strong, a good hasher will stop for no walls. Then we got in, circled up...2th decided to rear his ugly head, and there was a naming! NNJeff's balls were planted in a cooler full of ice water. TTony is brilliant, I might add. He took some of the beer out of the cooler before NNJeff sat down. Everyone should thank TTony...because of him, we didn't have Butt Beer for the rest of the festivities. So, NNJeff takes dead gerbils, has problems with impotency and mentioned girls at every available opportunity. I was all for naming him HEHEHE, but no one liked my idea and Rambler's a nazi and always gets his way which was naming NFHNJeff, 8 A F*ckin' Homo. (gerbils and girl thing and all) Welcome to the Savannah hash, baby! Have your balls warmed up yet? Oh, and prissy boy had to go home to shower before meeting us at the Shroom for an On-After. Yogi was fun, but I personally had to leave the building when S&M man was thrown out. I don't know what my problem was, but seeing 2th do the smashing bricks hand motions kinda gave me the eebie jeebies. So we sang and we danced. Literally, but I think that was later at Chucks. And there was a stop at the Rail too. But we got home safe and before 5. All's well with the world.
On-On
Dick Upon a Star
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| 10/10/02 |
Anonymous |
Savannah Hash #142 (Hare: 2th Fairy) |
2th Fairy |
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From: Dick Upon A Star Sent: 10/11/2002 1:30 PM
I hurt way too bad today to go into much detail, but here is my recollection of:
KYLE'S TRAIL of FURY (Hash Trash #142)
So there I was, sitting in the office, listening to the ass end of Kyle raining down his thunderous glory when all of the sudden, the phone rings. It's none other than the lovely 3D and her lovely Cotton Panel from Jacksonville with the lovely Dick On a Stick in tow. We's a goin' hashin! We pull up into the Outback parking lot to be greeted jovially by our dear friends the hashers. Blue Light and Stump, Rambler and Chaps, I Forgot and NNMike were all hanging out and drinking beer while waiting for the party that is the Princess to arrive. The newly shorn 2th was the hare. He left almost immediately as it was time and we drank and laughed and introduced and crap and Oh. Look! There's Dick from Tampa! Late to the hash. But his addition made for 1. a proper Dickfest in Savannah with 4 Dicks in residence. 2. a good time. 3. not much new material as far as jokes, but what the hell? He's cute. We went on like that until Rambler started twitching because 2th was getting too much of a head start. Dick from Tampa led us in a rousing rendition of his particular version of Father Abraham before we crossed the great expanse that is the parking lot and got into the woods. I distinctly remember Dick On a Stick saying that we have much nicer woods in GA. hahahaha she says with an evil grin. Just you wait. Woods, woods and here my memory gets a little fuzzy. I don't know if we couldn't find trail and that's why I decided to take a dip, or if we couldn't find trail after my impressive display of hydro aerobics or both. Anyway, this is what I know. We were looking for trail and I heard whistles over there. On the way to over there I saw what I thought to be a little creek going into a field. I thought the whistles were coming from the other side of the field (which they were...only it wasn't a field) and decided to go ranging. Took a step into the little creek...so far so good. Took another step and landed up to my boobies. Ooops. "A little deep here guys!" I'm still belaboring under the impression that this is a little creek and the reeds that I'm working my way towards are the bank. Well, not so much. They were reeds. Period. The water by this time is over my head and I yell for everyone to go back while I keep slogging through the reeds trying to find a way out. I was obsessed, and the suggestion of me actually turning back was pshawed. (said in caveman voice) I AM TOUGH HASH GIRL. I DO THIS FOR FUN. DICK IS NOT A PUSSY. DICK IS TOUGH. Dick is also a dumbass, but that's another story. So, by the time I'm in the middle of the f*&king lake full of swamp reeds, I've figured out that the easiest way to navigate their perils is by crawling over the reeds on my hands and knees. (2th. Get your mind out of the gutter.) It felt like I was in there for at least 20 minutes....but NNMike will have to be the meter for that one. Bless his little hashing heart. He waiting for me at the shore and didn't laugh. How he managed to not laugh is completely beyond me. Every coupla minutes or so I'd hear a "Dick, you there?" "Yup." and I'd raise my arm up high so he could just see my what used to be manicured fingertips over the reeds. Which is quite a feat bye the bye when crawling on marsh grass over 14 feet of water filled with rabid lizards and a hash phone that probably no longer works stuck in my boobs. 2th, did the blow dryer trick work? Then I'd hear a "Dick, where are you?" "In Hell." "Oh, okay then." (Seriously. That was the conversation.) Then I know that I'm close to shore because I can see the light that is attached to NNMike's head, and I can hear I Forgot telling us to hurry up. 10 more feet to go and the reeds part like the Red Sea for NNMike. (He laughed a little here. Sadly, Cotton was not around with his camera, because I can't even imagine the show.) So there I was, on hands and knees in the water, pig tails drooping because they're, um, WET! Marsh reeds stuck in my hair, glasses all fogged up and prickly litle plant thingys shadowing the glow of my otherwise pristine cleavage holding the hash phone. Seriously can't even imagine. I'd've love to have been there. (editors note: who's the bigger dumbass...the rover that ranged off trail straight into a friggen moat or the visitor that followed her? No more need be said.) So, at this point in time, the 4 of us made a tight knit little hashing family (mostly because only 2 of us had flashlights) for the rest of the "bend over" trail. It was dark, there were ants biting me in my socks, we missed the frikken beer and the brambles kept jumping out to scratch me. There were a coupla grumpy hashers after a while...no names here, but I'm pretty sure it was the two of the hashers that had to finish trail feeling like they peed in their pants and not smelling much better. This part of the trail seriously kicked my ass. Then we came to the boat on the shore. You will never know how tempting it was for us to climb in and row off into the sunset screaming what an asshole 2th is. (Truly shitty trail darling, we were just thirsty. You know.) We finally got out of all that cliff climbing crap around the lake....and burst into a field. I Forgot and NNMike yelling "Are you?" me saying "No" and them having a debate on whether or not they should follow me. Well duh. Word of hash advice. DON'T EVER FOLLOW DICK. I can get lost trying to find my bathroom if I'm distracted. This is a known and well documented fact. Just wanted to give you a head's up. Anyway, poor guys couldn't figure out why I wasn't following trail. Well. Here it is. I was tired. I was thirsty. I had bushes in my butt crack. I knew where end was. Luckily the boys back at start got tired of waiting and Rambler and 2th came to the rescue. (Or to point and laugh as the case may be.) They didn't believe NNMike when he mentioned that I went for a swim. Rambler, your jaw drop was classic when you figured out that...well yes. Her hair is quite wet. 2th baby, I did you proud out there! You can quit laughing now though. The disrobing of the Dick was a time of joy for all involved. I got to get some of the scratchy things out of my boobs, the boys got to see the boobs and the girls got to thank their lucky stars that they weren't having to do a leech check on their boobs. Then we did circle for a sec before Kyle reared his ugly head again. (Frankly, I was a little disappointed it was so abbreviated. What's a little water? You pussies. Besides, it was starting to wash off some of the muck!) Stump, I very much have to thank you for forgetting the hash shit so it was rewarded to you again. Doing circle sitting down at a restaurant was a new experience. Quite nice actually, and La Napolera didn't kick us out. I feel blessed. So we sat and drank some more and the jokes were fun, but sadly all good things must come to an end. At about 5 this morning.
-Princess Greg Louganis
P.S. I really do have a ring of ant bites around my foot so thick that I can't bend my ankle. And it looks like a slasher or pissed off kitty took to my legs. Anyone feel sorry for me?
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| 10/05/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash #282 |
I'm Too Sexy For Sex |
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Hiney Ho! Wacks here again!
What can I say about a Sexy trail except WOW! Even though he was caught several times, (even SLOW ASS me tagged him in the woods near Kernan) he displayed rare spirit and length for a trail. I thought Thor the Wanker was haring, except for the whole snaring bit.
There were three beer stops, a swimming pool and the biggest Skeeters this side of TexASS. VO was even bit in the Nads by some critter, (not Do Me).
We were visited by the usual losers, and Out-of-towners Tooth Fairy (Sav), Waterboy and WahWah (Japan) and a Gainesville hasher named Water Boy (although he was a little unsure of his full given Hash Name). He too was courageous as he drove up after running a Doofus trail on Friday. His legs looked like he had tried to shave with a steak knife.
Sexy ran us from ADT near You'll Never Finish (UNF), through the skeeter and banana spider infested woods to behind the Pilot pen company. We then ran up Beach Boulevard to Motorboat Mel's (a half star redneck bar & grill).
Then we ran some more through more mosquito and shiggy infested woods on Beach to the swinging singles Melrose Apartments.
Good trail, but the pack arrived before the hare... I myself was DOT for the circle, but I'll be back soon.
My only complaint was that every Boob Check where I coulda seen WahWah's fun bags, her boy scout Waterboy flashed his. Oh well.
My hat was off to Sexy for being hugely ambitious..
Sir Wacksalot
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| 10/02/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash #224 |
Sir WacksAlot |
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Hi Ho! (you know who ya' are..), Wacks Here.
For my first hare in over a year I choose a piquant, yet flavorful hash, full of sandspurs, loose sand and apartment complexes.
Although initial confusion was high, due to me being somewhat of a dumb ass and giving the right location, but wrong address (I must have been high or something) everyone made it to the start after a couple of sweeps.
The pack ran through a few hundred yards of shiggy then behind an apartment complex into ankle to knee deep water.
No one fell for my initial YBF, but some where caught by the second one near a large field with lots of dirt roads.
My overly ambitious Checkback 10 behind the Alta Apartments proved equally fruitless, as no one even found it.
But then it got good (or bad) as a field between the Alta Apartments and the under construction Gate Petroleum building was overloaded with the dreaded sandspur.
It was near the Gate building that 3D ate it twice in the dry loose sand.
From there it was pretty easy, around the God Barn (Crossroads church) and through the apartments near Costco. It was there that I laid the best Boob Check ever (according to Slick Willie) and Gulp, the Texan out-of-towner displayed her 36+ D's. (Sometimes it's not good to be the hare, as I never saw 'em.)
Then through the tree farm, under JTB to the back lot of TNT logistics (where I am hopelessly employed).
Flying Meatballs, Cotton Panel, Saran Crap (an out of towner & FRB) all congratulated me again on such a shitty trail!
Then out of nowhere Doofus White Boy AKA Chickmaster led a rambunctious circle as Guest RA, only to meet his match in the out-of-towner Gulp (another shallow water sailor).
Much fun was had by all, and Stuart Little received the Hash Shit for being 'cut-off' by his sister (Stomper Romper) three years ago, in favor of Dick-On-A-Stick!
See ya' on trail!
Wacks
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| 09/28/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash #281 |
Calf In The Cockpit & Just Johnnie |
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So there we were...all 7 of us (FP came up late as we were still walking to make the total 8). Wow, the turn out was amazing! But, with the sun blazing down on us we didn't really have to wonder why.
And we circled up. It was a really small circle. Chalk talk, a song and the hares were off. I told them they had 5 minutes...
If you ever want a 5 second version of Father Abraham, be sure to call upon Up Chuck. It's definitely the quickest I've ever seen anyone do it. But then again, I hear he's good at doing it quick.
12 minutes later we were all walking down the Reedy Branch area. It wasn't but another 500 feet or so and trail disappeared. We did notice that a bird seemed to be shitting on the ground about every 1/4 of a mile, but other than that, there was no trail. For a second we thought maybe Slick Willie had hidden down the trail and swapped with the real hares since trail was so sparce. Naaa, Slick said he was working, so it couldn't have been him.
End of a property line found us in an apartment complex's backyard. Easily 1000 feet away from the buildings we were still yelled at by a resident saying that we needed to leave or we'd be arrested when the cops came. I replied with, "Oh yeah? Cool. Thanks!" He seemed impressed.
Powerlines. Ankle deep water. Then came thigh high water with lots of reeds and floatings sticks underneath the top scum line that bump against your leg making you jump like you did in 2nd grade. Up Chuck was the only one to run through it with me. With the sweltering sun I just had to stay in the water, it was quite refreshing.
For the first time I should have listened to Up Chuck. He knew, but it took the rest of us 20 minutes of searching to find that trail had turned right on a piece of toilet paper. We thought maybe the hares didn't know what intersections where, but we were sure we saw one back on the road a mile or so ago. Oh well, who needs those stinkin' intersections!
After more low lying water we were dropped onto an intersection in someone's back yard. No fences gave us a great way to look around with no problems. Of course, we looked every direction that we shouldn't have. Finally, we picked up on trail in a very obviously place. This time it definitely WAS the pack's fault.
A few more roads and a VERY FEW more On On's lead 3D make the comment, "What are they? Jews?" I didn't know what the hell she was talking about. She explained with, "Why are they being so stingey with the flour?" I laughed my ass off.
There were a few eventful things on trail. Someone else came out of their house to yell at us and tell us that we were on the wrong side of the property line. I took one step back and again said, "Ok. Thanks!" There was also the mosquito breeding lair that the hares led us through. And the sound of a tree getting pushed over by a wild boar that set us all on edge. Oh, and of course the TWO spider webs I found (and yes, I did scream like a little girl). There was also the little brown bunny rabbit that made me almost shit my pants (it had HUGE, pointy teeth!) Also, the stream crossing with a hidden hole that, when stepped in, tried to suck Up Chuck complete under. We all could have laughed at his scream had his head even been above the water line to do it. Last, and of course not least, the 500 feet of nothing but briars. You'd have to see it to believe how many there were. Damn those things hurt!
A little more trail and a few YBF's had us end just East of the Publix parking lot. A quick circle was had and only ONE BEER was consumed during circle. 5 miles of trail had wiped us out and we decided to high tail it out and jump in Up Chucks pool to refresh before sushi.
At the Start to pick up vehicles we met Water Boy, a transplant from Japan who had some how read the start to be at 5PM (I hope I didn't screw that one up). After cursing himself for missing trail he decided to go to the pool with us and drink a few beers (there was finally some more beer consumed at the pool).
So, all in all it was actually a pretty good trail. The marks were laid as if it was an old school hash (just makes the pack look a lot harder)...something I think we all need from time to time to keep us from getting spoiled...as well as a learning experience. I'm sure next time will be even better.
On on,
Cotton Panel
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| 09/26/02 |
Anonymous |
Savannah Hash #137 |
2th Fairy, Ramblin Man |
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AND THERE SHE WASN'T! But everyone else was. As the hare pulled into the drive of the Frank O'Sumpin Sumpin fishing dock for a fabulous Thursday trail, she encountered a pack that was already pretty well lubed and ready to run. Cotton Panel and the lovely 3D were down from Jacksonville is Gay. Nuke warned us, and he was right! In tow were Virgin in Smelly Shirt. (Sorry, never quite caught your name, but you're cute, so I'll remember next time.) And the lovely Krispy Kreme! I Forgot, NNApril, TTony, Iron Pussy, Cooter Covers, Chaps, Drewl and NNJeff were all mulling about drinking some beers and laughin. In attendance also was the bimbo for the night, Porn (you looked lovely, dahling. Have faboo vaca! mwaah!)...and special thanks goes to Blue Light and Stump for providing the beer since the lousy hare couldn't be bothered to make trail on time. Anyway, so THE HARES ARE OFF! Oh, wait, that's right. Rambler and 2th left before I showed up! (Thanks guys. I owe you.) We did a somewhat rousing rendition of Father Abraham while I was frantically trying to dress myself for trail. (Oh, piss. Now I remember nerd naming. Tony, you're a ho!) Stump, gotta give you props on your high kicks. I thought I was going to choke when your nuts fell out of your shorts though. Then the pack is away. Everyone looked so pretty and pristine picking their way over the rocks in the river so they wouldn't get their little toeties wet. Everyone that is but moi. What the hell, right? It's a hash! Slogged right through the middle of the sucker, and I gotta tell ya...it feels goooooddd to be wet! (besides, I knew what you were in store for *sic*) We get to the other side and immediately lose trail. Go figure. We missed a boob check! (Now that I just don't understand, but there it is.) so after 15 minutes or so of pathetic little "are you"s and a bunch of lazy hashers just sitting around chatting while waiting for someone else to mysteriously locate trail (You know who you are. Come sit with me next time!!) Then some brilliant spelunker wound his way through the killer attack banana spiders and found a poof. We were on again. And lucky us! The trail took us straight to the Intercoastal Waterway! Mud, Mud, Mud, Mud and Drewl face down and flat on his back in said Mud! Wailing like a wounded wildebeast! Literally, you should've heard him moan. I sat and watched the spectacle of him trying to get from one island of muck to another island of muck for pert near 20 minutes. Felt sorry for the poor guy, out there wailing all alone. The beauty of the scenario is that all of the pussies up on the bank kept calling "Are you?" while looking for an elusive blob of flour or that one piece of TP that didn't blow away. All this time...our Wailing Wounded is yelling On-On! And so the pack spent the next 20 minutes COMPLETELY ignoring the Beast in the Mire. It was beautiful. It went something like this: "Are you?" "Yes!" "Whatever." "Are you?" Finally a bedraggled Raggedy Andy AKA Drewl pulls his soggy ass out of the mud which he traversed on his hands and knees. We were at a crossroads. While the Wildebeast was huffing and puffing and trying to get his breath back, I had a hauntingly familiar feeling of being lost in the woods in the dark with Drewl feeling me up once before. Wasn't quite sure if I could go there again. So, good thing the Wet 'N Wild one decided that he was done, and we had to go back to start and drink beer with the bimbo. But, ooops, the beer was locked up. Hm. We'll get to that one. So we started back. Well, I started back, because Girly Beast Boy doesn't like spiders. The SOB made me go first so I'd get all the webs. And he's the one with the flashlight! ugh. Chivalry does not exist outside of Gnat Nuts and Fondoo Dique in the hash. So we get back to start with a slight detour so Girly Man could bathe off some of the marsh mud in the river. He wallowed again. We make it back to start and settle in with the lovely Porn waiting for the hares and the pack. Well, Porn and I wait. Drewl rummaged through Rambler's car because someone forgot to bring a dry bag. So what did he do? He used Rambler's of course. I'm suprised you didn't lose some pubic hair, there buddy. So, the hares come in, smelly and dirty and laughing and trying every door on every car in the lot, looking for the elusive beer that was locked up. (Wierd, with a bimbo and all) Luckily there was beer at all, because everyone knows I'm a moron. Thanks again, Blue Light and Stump! And, luckily I'm charming. Because 2 fishers out on the pier thought I was cute/funny I was able to scam some beers for the thirsty and dripping wet, smelly, muddy hares with no relief because that asshole Drewl stole his dry bag just in time to watch the pack come in over the marsh. No lie here guys, it was actually quite beautiful. Sitting on a rise with the sunset/lightning storm to our right and watching little pin pricks of light dance across the black marsh, and hearing the warm sound of the whistles guiding in the pack. Knowing that those little pricks are friends and they were coming home to the hash. I got all sorts of choked up. And then FRB Tequila Tony busted a hump over the rise! Shaking hands with everyone, telling the hares "Shitty Trail." Or telling Drewl, "Shitty trail," because Drewl was wearing Rambler's clothes. FBI was NNApril, all wet and smelly and hawking up loogies. FABULOUS! And then the most popular people of the evening topped the rise. LOVE TO BLUE LIGHT AND STUMP! now where's the beer! Oh, moving backwards just a bit. 2th's rendition of Rambler's Wailing Wildebeast is amazing. You must ask for a reprise of the show. I don't have the words to describe 2th imitating Rambler flailing around in the mud. It was beautiful. I'm getting all choked up again. Damn. That and the re-hashing of the spider traps. We never did discuss who ate the most spiders on trail. Hm. Okay, so everyone's in and a rousing circle was had by all! Damn it was a good one. Complete with new songs from the travelling 2th and Iron Pussy! Good songs, good beer (PBR. who put the Killeans crap in the cooler anyway. wierdo) good friends. God. I wonder if I'm PMSing or something here. Everything was just so beautiful! Sob. We drank lots and lots and 2th cheated and guided everyone to give me the hash shit. He's like some wierd cult leader that can bend people to his will. Beware of the 2th! If I should mysteriously disappear...you know where to look. I swear I'm innocent! And then we went back to Deb's for the on-after where we proceeded to get kicked out. (Not really, but it was awfully close.) I think we may have picked up some new hashers, due mainly to Tequila's lovely pipes. We did Yogi, S&M Man, Do Do Do Do Do Do Do Do, and of course...Alhouetta! We bit Nukes ass, Chaps felt my boobs, Tequila let down his hair for a headbanging session, Iron Pussy and I did some lovely swing dancing and a good time was had by all. And no one was arrested. YeeHaw!
- A Dick in the Muck
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| 09/14/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax 'Backyard Bayou' Hash #279 |
Mystery Hare |
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This is getting up written up late, but being late seems to be right for this Hash. First I found out late that it was at 2:00 pm not 4:00pm. Sure, it was written on the Hash directions, but it wasn't made obvious. So I showed up late at about 2:50 to find the pack just milling around waiting to start.
I called the circle to order. The hares gave advanced warning that yes, it would definitely be a "Cotton Panel Special" ... and off went the Hares: Cotton Panel, Calf in the Cockpit and a surprise Hare Mountain Yak. (I think Yak just didn't want to pay his five dollars.)
Know that swimming was involved and that FUMA was going to be showing up (even later than I did), I put on my Life Guard T-Shirt, hoping that I wouldn't truly have to Guard anyone's Life this time around
I warned the two virgins going on trail not to follow Sexy or Fuma, and what good advise that turned out to be.
As we started out on trail, in a demonstration of competitive behavior, Shitty Lay took off walking at an amazing pace taking the lead all the way until we started running. As we got to the first intersection there was TP showing in two directions, so I went to check trail in the third direction. Finding no trail I hear Up Chuck saying he was on, but the trail seemed too obvious and not shiggy enough. After following him a few feet I went back to the TP that went into the woods -- that the last I saw of most of the pack. So through the woods to Cotton's house we go.
Then on the street, then trail went between two houses. Now when I have to trespass I try to go down the property line so if someone comes out of one of the houses I can say the neighbor gave me permission. This was a good thing, but not because someone came out of the house, instead because of CUJO. This huge attack dog came running at me, but I was happy to see a big worn down circle where his chain would stop him. I was then really happy to see that his chain was attached and (only a little bent) when it snapped his head back.
Now, back in the woods and we get to someone’s backyard with a true trail arrow there. The gate looks open, so I figure Cotton knows this person. Wrong! Luckily, being one of the first through I was less likely to get caught. The beer check was right in front of this house so I was really hoping no one was home. Luckily, no one was.
Crash Test Dildo and I left the beer check to find that trail went into, yet again, another person's yard. Well, repeatedly, since the first rarely get caught -- off I went.
Then came the intersection surrounded by police tape and no trespassing signs. Trail, as it turned out, didn’t go into this yard but instead back onto the street where yet another dog was waiting. This one looked like a small rat with long fur. Luckily for it the owner was a nice lady who wanted to know what trail we were following. If she wasn’t there I might have practiced my drop kicking skills with that yappy little dog that had to jump in order to try and bite my ankle.
Crash and I got to another yard that lead to the swamp. This time the owner and floating things were there waiting for us. CP had briefed him on the whole thing. Grabbing Styrofoam Spaghetti, Crash and I jumped into the swamp. I had found a broken tennis racket on trail and was swinging it around wildly, using it as an anti-gator device.
I had a plan, just as Crash did. Crash had me go first figuring I would run into a gator first. My plan was that I figured gators like to attack from the rear and any gator (and all hashers I know) would much rather bite Crash’s luscious, succulent, fine ass than my old tough one. But neither of us had to find out whose plan would work out better since no gators were spotted.
When we got to the dock behind CP and 3D’s house Moutain Yak was doing belly flops off the dock into the swamp -- surely scaring any gator away for miles. The rest of the pack dribbled in dripping wet.
So, we were getting ready for circle and BBQ when I asked the simple question: Where’s FUMA? No one had seen him since he went the wrong way at the first intersection. I went back around the back of the house and sure enough, FUMA was standing on the other side of the Bayou wondering where to go. I waved him in and I was glad to see that he had a big float, because I had already taken off my LifeGuard shirt.
As circle was starting, Forrest was cooking up a storm and 3D was putting out grub. The circle was just circle, but the food was outstanding and the trail was memorable.
And no gators.
On on,
Flying Meatballs
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| 09/11/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash #221 |
Up Chuck F&ck & Just Mike |
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Off at a normal time (7:15pm) Up Chuck, Just Mike and myself started out at a light jog from the Costco parking lot headed East into the tree farms of Skinner's Dairy. After several rows of 6ft to 8ft pine trees I was wondering if we were even heading in the right directions. After all, Up Chuck was leading us. We finally broke through into a small clearing that was blocked by some 8 ft tall reeds. What's behind those reeds? Well, might as well find out. Luckily, it was only ankle deep water that was about 3 foot across. Hashers could handle this, right?
Through the cut pathways of the taller trees and we were at the power lines heading south that intersected with JTB. I looked around in slight wonder because were supposed to have cross another small stream before this part. I should have listened to Just Mike, who, due to his extensive Ranger Training had tried to tell me which way to turn (but I vanely dismissed it.) Oh well, only one stream crossing for the night. I knew some hashers would be disappointed, but figured they'd understand.
The next thousand feet or so were filled with what Just Mike called "Ankle Biters". Thorns just about ankle high that seemed to grab a hold of you at every step. JTB was a welcome sight -- anything to get away from all those thorns.
Across JTB and down a bit put us in another construction clearing. (I heard that Ballpark was pulling a Shit Happens by trying to get busy on the tractor -- see photos). We were all panicy when we jumped the 5 foot brick wall leading to the beer check. Already hearing whistles was a sign that they were REALLY close. My bet was on Just Kevin. That fast bastard had it out for us, I knew it. As I set poised on the wall top I realized that no one had put an on across to let the hashers know to jump it. Mike, volunteering like a true Army Ranger can jumped over again just to put the mark.
Here's where we contemplated on making the trail shorter than what we had finally decided. I say it that way since right before trail we scouted out an extra mile of trail so that we could make it a little more "interesting". But, with the whistles on our behinds and Up Chuck and I sucking wind, we thought our number might be up if we tried to push it too far.
Through a little more ankle-breaking underbrush we headed at a SE directions towards 9A. Trying to jump a fence with your heart leaping out of your chest, throwing toilet paper and listening to whistle blows that sounded only seconds away is quite a task. If anyone had been looking they would have seen three hashers sprinting the last 1500 ft of trail, constantly looking behind as of someone was about to pounce at any second.
There was only 25 feet to spare between Just Kevin and us when Just Mike finished writing "ON IN" with flour. So it was decided: This was now the official end.
Half of the hashers stayed on trail and finished within minutes of us. The rest, either walked back to the start and drove over or decided to use their own trail and let the sweeping hares (or other people) pick them up.
There was a naming. With the load of ammo that Just Mike gave us you'd have thought it would have taken us no time at all to name him. 1 1/2 hours later we finally had to decided between Calf in the Cockpit and Veal Vagina. After much protesting Just Mike finally became Calf in the Cockpit.
Circle being closed and food in our bellies we ended the evening with a triumphant version of the Star Spangled Banner. Yes, it brought a tear to my eye (and a few others). It was a perfect tribute to the anniversary of 9/11.
On out,
Cotton Panel
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| 08/28/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash |
Crash Test Dildo & Brown Eyed Girl |
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So, there we were at Atlantic Beach hanging out on 18th Street, our impromptu start location, waiting for the hounds to show up. After introductions and sending off the hares, 3D led us in stretching. Soon after Ballpark and Forrest made dumps with their trucks, dropping off hounds at the 'real' start (the end of Seminole Rd). Once we all were made it -- we were off!
Right off the bat was a 7 foot fence with barbed-wire and implements of much bodily destruction. Most of us jumped over it. When Forrest landed on the otherside he upset a few local gophers from the earth he displaced because of his weight (pick on the fat kid) ... that and his shoulder wasn't too happy either.
The smart ones of the bunch (yours truly NOT included) went around and found a hole in the fence to easily walk through. Past the fence found us in several ankle snapping sand dunes (see photos) and tree vines.
After a false trail out into the beach (see photo) and into some dead bushes the pack was thoroughly disheveled. Which way to go? Which way to go? It wasn't too long until we picked up trail again (actually most of us followed FUMA's voice.) He was yelling within a little jungle of his own that was only about 4ft wide and 20ft long. When he came out we were all staring at him like, "What was the use in going through that?" But he seemed happy.
As the sun started setting trail became more and more treacherous. Of course, without sunlight it wasn't too long before trail seemed to completely disappear as well. Half the pack was on one side of the park and the other half was God only knows where. But, with our keen sense of perception we finally found the beer stop (by finally spotting and following the beer truck). There we embibed and stop to ponder. Flying meatballs also managed to do a little flexing for us (see photo) and Dick on a Stick seemed to be taking another piss (see photo).
A little more shiggy and a lot more guessing helped us to finally end up at the lake. Wow. Big lake. Big DARK lake. And yes, a turkey / eagle with the eagle leading THROUGH the lake and the turkey going around. Well, this was the moment I had been waiting for.
Wrinkle Rider was yelling at us from the otherside. Of course, it was completely unintelligable, all we heard was "GO GATORS! GO GATORS!". Why he would bring up football at a time like this was beyond our understanding.
So, Slick Willie, Jets Blow, FUMA, Meatballs and myself got ready and dove in (ok, maybe waded is more like it). I was out in front and every now and then turned around to make sure people (and nothing else) was following me. About half way I turned around and everyone seemed to have disappeared. Humm...
From what I heard it went something like this:
Meatballs: You ok?
Fuma: I'm fine.
Meatballs: You ok?
Fuma: I'm fine.
Meatballs: You ok?
Fuma: I'm fine.
Meatballs: You ok?
Fuma: help. (said in a little wimper)
Everyone eventually made it across the lake (which was the end) and I was very impressed with Jet's. Way to go girl!
So, finally on the otherside the half pack that was missing was suddenly found and the hounds that went on the turkey caught up shortly.
We took our time, caught our breath, changes clothes (if we had them) and decided to do a little mingling before circle. While we were doing this someone noticed something moving out in the water. I tried to dismiss it as a turtle (or a hippo) but the girls quickly became interested in finding out exactly what it was. One something turned into two somethings. Two somethings looked back at us with two pair of eyes. Those somethings, it turns out, were gators.
Circle was had and a naming was in order. After much dispute between Mud Pie, Buzz Box (and not YELLOW) we finally ended up with Buzz Box. So, goodbye Just Melissa and hello Buzz Box.
All in all it was lots of fun with or without the E Coli or whatever kinda of bacteria the doctor said I now have. I'd do it again in a second. Thanks for the trail!
Cotton Panel
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| 08/24/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash #278 |
Ballpark Frank & Cotton Panel |
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Yesterday's trail will be one that will become part of Jacksonville lore and legend. So for those of you who missed it he it is. (And no this does not constitute as whining its a factual documentation of events as they occurred) It’s been a while since I did one of these but yesterday’s trail deserves it. Well there we were Saturday afternoon, everyone that Cotton Panel convinced into cumming. Cotton gave the trail a shiggy rating of 5. What he didn’t tell us was that it was on a scale of 1 to 5. So we all gathered at the end of Monument Road. As circle started it became painfully aware that your RA, yours truly, was out of practice and suffering the effects of a wild and crazy Friday night Happy Hour. (Pictures of which can be seen on my website) Cotton made this a trail treasure HASH where we were to grab cards left on the ground along trail for prizes at the end, (if anyone survived.) So I sent off the Hares, Cotton Panel, Ballpark and Just Adam and commenced briefing our two virgins and presenting them with their twinkes. VO announced that yes they’re still looking for people to do whatever it is they do in the Biloxi Fantasy football league. Trail started off right into the shaggy and through the woods, but expecting the advertised turkey eagle split before things got too bad we went into a swamp. Now I figured we were just crossing one of these muddy, smelly, alligator infested swamp ditches. BUT NO, trail followed along this muddy, smelly, alligator infested swamp ditch weaving its way back and forth getting deeper and smellier as it went. At one point I heard the call coming from behind me "Oh shit I lost my shoe in the mud!" Yes it was that quick sand, shoe sucking, leg strength draining, swamp mud. At one point Crash, Just Kevin, and I got fooled and followed a false trail, (with no intersection) an extra 50 yards or so. That doesn’t seem bad, but when each step takes pulling your foot out of 3 feet of mud and then crawling out of "Shit River" you kind of wish you had gone the other way. At one point when I went nipple deep in three feet of mud and two foot of water I grew concerned for the more diminutive hashers, especially Just Melissa, who’s just about that height. As it turns out at about that time she had found her own deep spot and was hyperventilating and grabbing on to Wilber’s tee shirt to get dragged out of the mud. Was Wilber "Boy scouting" Or Life Guarding? Well at least that gives use some ideas for Melissa’s naming. Once out of "The Swamp" we got to run to Ft Caroline, the fort not the road and then along shore on top of the rocks next to the sign that said, "DANGER, do not walk on the rocks." Finally, we make it to the Turkey Eagle split that was so heavily advertised the night before. And what do we see but, Cotton Panel waiting for the pack. It seems that the map that was going to show the way along the turkey trail got wet, image that. So he waited to show the way. So now he decides to be nice, or maybe his legs were tired too. He pointed the way and said, "Eagle trail is 2 miles to the end -- straight that way." So off went myself and a couple of other masochists to finish trail two miles through the park. The park that is filled with fly and mosquitoes especially near sunset. Most of had thought about that and put on bug spray. Of course all that swamp water and mud had washed it off, but that gave motivation to keep running faster. It seemed to have worked for our two FRB’s Gigolo and Just Kevin, because they snared the remaining two hares just before they exited the park. The trail finished a ways up the road in a construction site that mercifully had a water hose. Once the pack finally got in we circled up to do some important business. We welcomed our two Virgins who were not properly briefed on how to answer my very difficult questions. We welcomed back the afore mentioned Wilber and Gigolo. We said a sad goodbye to Dr. Doo Doo. As the sun set behind a partially framed house we got down to naming Just Adam. The winner who is no longer Just Adam, is now Wrinkle Rider. A truly grueling trail that we’ll be talking about for years to cum
ON-ON,
Flying Meatballs
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| 08/21/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash |
Red Wing Hoover |
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FRB: Cirrhosis would have been, but I think it ended up being Meatballs
DFL: Preteen Spirit
Peeing on Trail: Major, 3D, Dr. Doo-doo, Trampoline Tramp and Stomper Romper
Hash Shit: Cotton Panel
So there we were once again, for the 5th (?) time behind the Golden Corral off of Merrill Rd. Even with the shiggy meter honestly announced it seemed that the pack was brave enough for the challenge. I shook my head, knowing that I would hear the bitching later in the night.
The hare (Redwing Hoover), took a volunteer from our midst to help co-hare (Slick Willie) and then did a pitiful attempt at chalk talk. After all of us were thoroughly confused the hares were off.
Stretching, led by backslider Flying Meatballs (see photo), was quick and to the point. I tried to act like I was taking pictures instead of having to actually exercise -- I doubt anyone noticed.
And then we were off. Like Alabamans at a K-Mart Blue Light Special we ran down Merrill Rd with reckless abandon. Across the field only to find a YBF, then back across the street and into a housing area. After cutting through a yard we eventually ended up (I don't remember how) over by the fenced in area behind Publix. With squeezing through the chain link fenced gates (see photo) and watching Dr Doo-Doo push Likes Her Likker on a shopping cart (see photo) we finally ended up in a little shiggy heading out to Southside Blvd.
While in the woods Trampoline Tramp and Dr. Doo-Doo decided to stop for Free Pees (see photos). Soon after we met up with a 6 foot fence and Wacko's Wish on the other side making fun of us (see photo). Was he making fun of Forrest? Hmm, good question. Forrest took longer to get over the fences than all the girls combined did. Dr Doo-Doo got his ball sack caught on the fence, but he's such a man that he barely even a winced (see photo).
Across Southside put us in the middle of the Sahara Desert. The sand in our feet (see photo) and the cool breeze from the night sky really felt good. Major Bation suggested that we all lay down and make snow angels. Wish and I looked at each and said, "Nawww. Don't think so."
After doing a little short cutting and ending up at the church across from Krystals on Merrill Rd we realized that we had some how missed even the second beer check. Cirrhosis of the Liver came bounding up and we promptly told him that he was headed the wrong direction. Of course, since we were short cutters and didn't have a frigging clue we were completely wrong. After much confusion it seems that trail was on the opposite side of the street headed the direction we had just come from.
The was shiggy to be had, but the lot I was hanging with didn't find any of it. Had it not been for the FRBs running towards us I wouldn't have even headed in the right direction.
Back at the On-In V.O. led us in his R.A.ly duties for circle. There were many accusations for peeing on trail, most, if not all were true. Even Stomper Romper took a pee in the bushes right before circle was formed. I almost got a picture of it but her cast got in the way (it also got in the way of her stretching). 3D also peed on Just Steve's motorcycle -- but I'm sure he didn't mind.
With every hash (mostly) comes the Hash Shit. I was nominated for bruising 3D's private parts and Dick was nominated for missing the beer check (which I personally believe is a much higher offense). Of course, I ended up with the Hash Shit. I did my down-down and circle was promptly closed.
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| 08/19/02 |
Anonymous |
Covinton, Kentucky H3 (Palatka Style) |
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I was way took comfortable to enjoy the 9AM phone call with Doofus. As much as I wanted to hang up I realized he had been a good sport the entire weekend and he deserved a little respect ... wait, am I talking about Doofus?
So there we were, stuck in Kentucky with out even the hash to console us. How does the saying go? If you don't do it, WE WILL? If there's no hash in Kentucky, fine, we'll bring the hash to them.
The first item of interest was scouting tail. Oops, did I say that wrong? I meant TRAIL. Into the bushes at Mount Adams (see photo) for a little shiggy, then the Cincinnati Art Museum & Tits (see photo), the Ohio river (see photo) and back over to the Kentucky side for a little culture and edumacation at the Kentucky Museum of History and Science where 3D tried to get it on with a mannequin. One more quick stop at the revolving restaurant in the Radisson Hotel -- where we were promptly told to piss off since it was closed and wouldn't open until 5pm.
Since we needed actual Kentuckians to go with us (to make it an official Kentucky Hash), where could we find people to hash with us? Hmmm, how about a BAR!?! We stopped at the riverfront section, walked into TGI Friday's and saw a few people at the bar. Doofus walked up, ordered a beer, turned to them and said, "Hey, want free beer?" "Sure." "Ok, here's the rules then. Follow these marks and drink beer. Any problems?" With their blood-shot eyes they gave us questioning looks. As ominous as the three of us were they finally decided to go along with it all.
The hare was given 5 minutes and when we finished our drinks the hounds (all four of us) were off. They really got into it after explaining to yell "On On!" when you see a mark.
We all know how Doofus lays trail, or the lack thereof, and this trail was no exception to the rule. After the first bar we went over a hill and completely lost trail. Now, whether it was the hares fault or the hounds fault is anyone's guess, but not knowing which way to go and stranded with Kentucky Virgins is a very dubious position. Looks were once again thrown in our direction...and I did what any decent hasher would do -- I called the hare! So, with a direction now in mind, off we went to where the hare was already sitting and drinking a beer. Here all of us sang "Alouette", to which the entire bar joined in on the chorus. The Virgin Just Chris sang all the lines, making US give questioned look. A group photo was had (see photo).
On to the next (and last) bar. As we were following trail it lead us into an area that Just Chris called the "SSI" (Social Security Income) area. He commented, "I hope we don't go into a bar around here." Trail, of course, went around the corner and right into a bar.
Doofus explained how Down Down's worked and vessels were filled. Beer was drank, jello shots were consumed and Doofus even showed 'Crazy Bitch' that beer was to go IN you and not ON you. I think 'Crazy Bitch' was feeling pretty good at this point and was spilling beer into her head (who said head?) when turning her vessel over. Doofus tried to suck the excess out.
Soon after we really started having fun with the help of the local patrons by coming over and singing songs WITH and TO us ... it was right then that the bartender decided it was time for us to get the hell out. Threats were made and opinions were expressed. In the end the last of the beer was gone so On-Out were we. Back to our vehicles we exchanged contact info with the Kentucky Virgins and even gave them parting gifts (a basketball and a 12 pack of Coors).
Last but not least we stopped back by the Radisson Revolving Restaurant which was now open. Our server's name was Marcus (think he's gay?). Doofus broke the ice with, "Is that your stage name?" He didn't like us very much after that. We ate quickly and decided it would be a BAD thing if we missed our flight.
All in all I had a GREAT time hashing in Kentucky...I can't wait to stop back by and see if it survived longer than a weekend.
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| 08/17/02 |
Anonymous |
Montreal, Canada H3 (Sat and Sun) |
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Saturday morning came all too early. We all woke up and some of us even showered. Lucky as I was being nominated to call and wake up Lips 'N Assholes (LNA), once he finally answered he was quick to wish me a painful and agonizing death for having called so early. But, as a true hasher would he recovered soon enough to say, "I'll be over ina few minutes since I live close by." Two hours later he finally arrived. But, since he was the one who really know the way to the Hash Start in Montreal we figured we'd wait on him (and we had nothing better to do).
While driving through Essex, VT we stopped for gas and Midal. LNA was paying for gas and aparent quickly took the hand of their child and ran for safety. I didn't know if twas because they simply recognized him or becasue he was wearing a dress. Walking through the small town grocery store turned a few heads, which quickly turned around again and walked hurriedly in opposite directions.
The border crossing was relatively uneventful. We stopped at the border to take photos (see photos), but other than that the trip was very smooth.
Once in Montreal, Canada and at the start location for the hash we got some food and beverages to consume while waiting for the rest of the hashers (see photo).
The time came for us to circle up and the crowd of civilians did the usual gawking. It seems that even beady-eyed Canadians are interested in people in red dresses. Several women from a hotel hooted and hollered at us, to which Doofus tried to visit. Fortunately (for the women), they wouldn't allow him entry into the hotel (see photo). The pack was introduced and the hares were off.
Trail for the walkers (set by Crystal Tits), consisted of a slightly straight route up a road towards one of the better vistas of Montreal. There we all had a Hash Hold (where we all wait for the grou). When we all arrived we embibed upon alcoholic watermelon, ice cream, water and tea. Soon after the break the runners were off again. The walkers just walked down the trail, but made a slight diversion into an underground bar. Many pitchers where ordered, and when I say pitchers I mean HUGE PITCHERS (see photo). These things held like two gallons each. There would be fewer DUI's in the US if we had these size pitchers (people would pass out before even making it to their vehicles). Next stop was at a Strip Bar. After the resident dancer evacuated the stage some of the hashers got on stage (including Wintoze69). They made for a rather interesting spectacle. In fact, I think they made more money than the real dancer did.
On to the end of trail - ending back at the beginnning. There they there was ALOT of food and did Circle (inside the bar). They also had a Hash Auction. All the money (as far as I know) went towards a Cancer Association.
3D and I were given a wonderful place to stay by Total F&ck Up (TFU) and Just Hilda. There was an On-After but 3D and I decided to do a little exploring in Montreal instead. The city was wonderful. The people where extremely polite even though I didn't speak French and I'd go back in a second. I should have listen to Doofus and stay a few extra days.
The next morning found us truggling for a way to find out how to take the metro (subway) over to TFU's house. It took a few of the locals and several languages in order to eventually get tickets. The subway was smooth and quick, although at a stagnant 100 degrees. With a 30 minute ride with TFU and company we made it to Ile Perrot (Parrot Island). Soon after arriving the hares were off while 3D was trying to sell her haberdashery stuff. We followed about 10 minutes behind bounding through upscale neighborhoods. Somehow 3D and I quickly lost trail. Well, we lost trail because we WANTED to. We did a little "zenning" which ended us up in someone's back yard. After jumping their fence, taking a photo at a Stop (or Arret) sign we eventually caught up with the rest of the pack (see photo). After a little shiggy and an attempt to block some of the Competetive Types we were finally back at the beginning with beer, champaign, food and MOUNTAIN DEW waiting for us. We consumed as much as possible, spcialized and 3D learned about Patte and Canadian Roasted Beef Sandwiches. Soon all of that came to an end when it was time for us to head back to the United States and catch out flight out of Vermont. Goodbyes were said, tears were shed and I'm sure there was much rejoicing in Canada when we finally drove off.
Wintoze69 (the driver) and Doofus argued like a married couple about which direction to take. After deciding to take the quickest route back to the states we somehow found ourselves crossing the border through New York. How New York was quicker than the way we came is anyone's guess. The Border Patrol Lady seemed unimpressed with our attitude (and places of birth). 20 questions was the game and when all hope was lost and we were sure that a body cavity search was next Doofus, hero of the day, made a nice comment about her mustache and she finally seemed to think that it would be worse for her if we were stuck there than it would be for us to be stuck there. She promptly let us pass through without even looking at our drivers licenses.
Eventually we ran out of beer and got tired of watching Doofus feed Wintoze69 cheesey-poofs (see photo). So, stopping to shop at an Alabama Runaway's Flea Market seemed to be the best way to speed the trip up (since we WERE in a hurry for our flight and all). Looking through their wares we admired the shotguns, bad tattoos and bad teeth. Some glared at us and others wish us a fond farewell. Back on the road more directions where given and more directions were ignored. I remember lines like this, "I know you're going to forget this as soon as I tell you, but turn left at the next intersection." You can guess how the rest of the trip went.
Saying our goodbyes again with kisses and hugs we scrounged through all the luggage and sprinted for our gate...only to find out that all the flights from Burlington were delayed. There we wasted time by taking out all our luggage, reorganizing it and repacking it all right on the airport gate floor (see photo). We could only be humored with this for so long and finally decided to tackle teh Airport Restaurant. It, of course, closed at 6:30pm and we were forced to entertain ourselves once again with missing aircraft at our gate. We managed to find someone at Delta who would talk to us and they said, "Don't worry. Everything will work out." The plane arrived and we made it to our midway point of Cincinatti...only to be told that the next flight out was already overbooked and that we had no chance in hell of actually getting on it, but if we could please patiently wait for the flight to leave so that they could be sure that we wouldn't make it that they would be greatly appreciative. After waiting what seemed like days Doofus smooth talked the Delta lady into giving us a hotel room and setting us up with a possible flight in the morning at 9am. With much ado the reservations were changed to 9:50PM. Once settled into the hotel I decided to check my email on the hotel computer. At 1am I finally gave up on waiting for the French guy to stop serfing porn and talking on chat lines. I took a shower and went to bed. Doofus, always up for a challenge decided to see what he could do. He ate some cereal while heckling the French guy, hoping that he would eventually give up his station at the computer. Supposedly the French are naturally rude, but Doofus seemed to have had him beat and he finally left. I was hard asleep by that time and didn't care at all...
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| 08/16/02 |
Anonymous |
Burlington, Vermont H3 |
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Ok, after three flights we finally made it to Burlington, Vermont. A cab driver (named elderly female named Waldo) tried to give us the scenic (and more expensive) tour around the city, but we decided to say, "Hi" to the GM of Burlington and let him know we're there and maybe, just maybe drink a beer or two.
We made it to down town with relatively few problems. The GM's name, Gafami (I'm a fag - backwards) says, "Hi", shows us around his work place (he's a computer geek too) and then escorts us to the local bar. Being far too busy to hang around for a beer at the pub (wait, is he really a hasher?) he takes off back to work and we proceed to down a few. Ok, ok...so I'm only drinking Pepsi - but in spirit I drank as if it was beer!
We soon got bored there (i.e. ran out of beer) and headed out in the city to sit on a rock (see 1st photo) and sweat our balls off (3D's are completely gone). Doofus & 3D played 'Spin the Body', to which Doofus quickly won. Into a few shops we went, in search of, uh, something/nothing....
3D bought a tight pair of shorts to which not one of us complained about and she even changed her top for some reason or another (see photo). Doofus thought about buying some clothes but realized that they had way too much class for him (see photo).
In the city park while waiting for the rest of the hashers to show up we witnessed about 42 drug sales, 23 prostitution transactions, 55 police car patrols and 100 homeless people...all of them decided we were too wierd to be seen with and moved away from us in the park. Now, with our spatious park area we decided to form up a circle with a few of the newly arriving hashers. The cops definitely got interested at this and some even took a seat to see exactly how interesting we were.
Chalk talk was given, introductions were made. an announcment of a 'short trail' was made (because of the heat). So, off went the hares (Gafami & Lips 'N Assholes)...the pack followed 12 minutes behind.
Doofus got lost (or lost us) rather quickly and somehow I ended up being the FRB. Intersection, upon intersection, upon intersection I ran...hitting at least two Bad Trails at EACH ONE and using pack marks for the rest behind me. After 10 miles I was almost ready to give up (ok, so it was really only 3-4 miles). Finally, the end was near and two of the pack had finally caught up (3D and Just Bob or something like that).
Circle was formed and I whined a lot about all the friggin intersections (which of course I had to drink for). Doofus had previously volunteered to A) carry the hash shit (which they don't do) and B) drink out of it as well (see photo). Songs were sung, beer was consumed and sex was had in circle (or a facsimile thereof - see photo). Fun time, great trail, cold beer and awesome people -- who could complain?
So there we were, sweaty, tired and without a place to shower or change with an On-After calling our names. So we did what any decent, respectable Hasher (oxy-moron?) would do: we took a bath (swim) in Lake Champlaign. After scaring off the Albanian family (and the ducks) from the waterfront vista we proceded to disrobe and partake in a little lake water bathing action. The water was amazingly refreshing and although the seaweed from below made several attempts to entangle and drown us, we luckily escaped and made it out alive and well. While changing clothes we did manage to attract the local police, but after seeing Doofus naked they took pity upon us and promptly drove off.
The On-After was at a local bar, where again, much alcohol was consumed along with some pizza and sandwiches. New out-of-towners arrived (Wintoze69 and Muffalota from Boston) to which there was much rejoicing.
Sadly, 3D and I had hit our peak and decided to call it a night around 12:30am. Gafami was nice enough to give us a ride to Chief Gerbil Balls' house (CGB gave us crash space even though he was out of town).
I heard many rumors and tales about sex, women and beer pertaining to the On-After, but I believe it all to be lies. I do know that Doofus stumbled in around 2:30am and that his snoring drowned out the bellowing of a old box fan near his head. The methodical and penetrating tone in his snore made us pray for death. Sleep is all that eventually came.
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| 07/24/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash (Hare: 2th Fairy) |
Tooth Fairy |
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It was a dark and stormy night. People everywhere huddled in the dark corners of there homes, afraid...very afraid, of the evil that was taking over the world. Perpetrated by the public creativity of its new commercials, and the declining quality of the age-old Budweiser ads, Plank Road brewery had taken over the planet. In what must have been a deal with the devil, the Planksters now had the exclusive distributing rights for the entire universe. The demon’s brew, forced upon the populace by the Planksters, was wreaking havoc worldwide.
World leaders were befuddled (authors note: I really like that word!). The CIA was powerless, the FBI was helpless, Interpol was spineless, the ATF was gutless, the Secret Service was pusillanimous (authors note: impressive, huh?), and the Biloxi Hash was worthless. In a meeting of the mindless, world leaders turned to the only alternative, the mighty joint task force of the Savannah/Jacksonville Hash House Harriers.
Led by an awesome array of mismanagers, this group was rivaled by no one, except maybe the Super Friends. There was as the duo of Grandmasters, with a Grand Mattress in the middle: the mighty 2th Fairy, the elegant Cotton Panel, and the matriarch Major Bation. Guiding them were a couple of Religious Advisors: the prodigious Vibrating Oedipus and the loquacious Flying Meatballs. Tagging along were the BeerMeister Dick On A Stick, the gorgeous Scribe Dick Upon A Star, her side kicks Crash Test Dildo & UpChuck, and hauling her trinkets for the natives, the Haberdasher 3D.
Could this awesome group save the world and restore decent beer to the masses? Keep your fingers crossed, this could get ugly.
It did not start out well. The shit hit the fan and went to hell in a hand basket putting the hashers up the creek without a paddle between a rock and a hard place. One by one, the leaders faltered.
2th Fairy got pissed and left.
Major Bation, trying to make everything perfect, could not get out from under her never-ending lists and details.
Flying Meatballs, in an effort to carry on, failed miserably but still insisting that was how they did it in Tidewater.
Vibrating Oedipus was clearly not commonsensical (author’s note: this really is a word), claiming over and over that the Chargers were going to the Super Bowl.
Cotton Panel and 3D were ineffective as they stood there and looked pretty, their hands never leaving each other’s body.
Crash Test Dildo was in the bushes peeing...or was it looking for her bandana?
UpChuck got lost.
Dick On A Stick was paralyzed, awed by the beauty of Dick Upon A Star.
Was the world doomed to rely on the Plankster’s piss water for their daily ration of barley and hops?
NO! There was still hope. Tapping her foot and shaking her head angrily, the stunning Dick Upon A Star uttered the magic words, “I’m sick of this shit! Men are such fucking idiots!” Once uttered, the already cute beyond imagination Dick Upon A Star, was transformed into the even more adorable, Nykki, the Viking Goddess of Decent Beer.
Uprooting trees, shrubs, and flowers...baking cakes, cookies, and pies, the amazing Nykki, wielded her magic Purse(s) of Thunder and smote the evil Planksters about the head and shoulders.
Worshipped by everyone, adored by all, Nykki had saved the day. Decent beer was restored to everyone. People were dancing in the streets. There was MUCH rejoicing!
Dick On A Stick, still transfixed, ogled.
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| 05/08/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash |
F.U.M.A and Just Amy |
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Hares: FUMA and Just Amy
FRB/FBI: Cotton Panel & 3D
DFL's: Drunk Me and a bunch of lost wankers.
Namings: Just Amy became "Raggedy Anal"
It was a nice little trail (2 1/2 miles) that wound it's way along the Jacksonville Beach area starting at the old Jacksonville Pier, across 3rd Street, thru a few bars and along the beach. After pulling out the sand cactuses from various parts of the body much rejoicing and down-downs were done by all. The hare did have to go sweep since some got lots on trail at the Extra Credits, but that was no fault of his own.
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| 03/20/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash (Hares: Ball Park, Cotton Panel) |
Cotton Panel |
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FRB's: 3D & 2 Sexy 4 Sex
DFL's: Slick Willie, Who Flung Phoo & No Balls
The trail started in a new housing area off of Kernan Blvd near Beach Blvd. After taking a tour of a near electrical station, heading through some forest trails with low lying branches that knocked a few of us in the head and scared the bejesus out of me, it finally meandered through a new school construction area (Kernan Middle School), through a small stream and up a large embankment of junk -- through another neighborhood then around a stream to end behind the bank at the intersection of Girvin and Atlantic.
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| 03/09/02 |
Anonymous |
Jax "Tired Hare" Hash (Hares: Takes the Bone & Ballpark Frank) |
Takes The Bone, Ballpark Frank, Doofus? |
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FRB: Flying Meatballs, Cotton Panel
DFL: Face Plant, Would If I Could, VO
Hash Shit Winner: Face Plant Why: Something about Hooters chicks?
Out of Towners: Takes the Bone, Just Christy?, Would If I Could
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| 12/01/01 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash - Short Straw Hash |
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In memory of Short Straw (not really, it just turned out that way) we congregated at the Hash Start, got a bunch of straws with varied lengths and had each of us draw straws. The one with the shortest straw ended up being the hare to the beer check where we would draw straws again.
The first leg was hared by Red Wing Hoover. And as you can see by the pictures he took us through an area where the community really got involved with finding trail. An apartment complexes, over ditches and a school playground were just a few of the interesting sights that Hoover blessed us with. The mexican guy giving me bad directions in spanish was amazing - I don't know how he rigged that
Red Wing and Likes Her Licker ended up doing the second part of trail, which we all got lost on (but we all found the beer check!)
Slick Willie set the last leg of the trail to one of the nice 'Crackville' areas of Jacksonville (Emerson Rd. and St Augustine Rd). The hounds called up the beer truck pretending to be lost and got directions to the On-In and ended up missing a nicely layed shiggy area because of it
I missed Slick's trail because I went and swept for Sexy. I had given up looking for Sexy after sweeping all through the San Jose area and finally ended up driving back by the beer stop - there was Sexy just making it. What's his excuse for being lost on trail? He says he started following arrows made with chalk - later finding out that it was laid by a bunch of kids in the area...uh-huh. Really. I believe you...
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| 11/28/01 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash (Hare: ROYGBIV) |
ROYGBIV |
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It wasn't my camera and I wasn't the one taking pictures - so don't ask how these are the only photos. It was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.
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| 09/14/01 |
Anonymous |
Savannah On-On Augural (Hares: 3D, Cotton Panel) |
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As the first trail in Savannah's On-On Augural I have to say that it was a great starter trail. I was lucky enough to get chosen to help hare so unfortunately there isn't any photos of actualy trail - so you'll have to live with the On-In.
Note: Scouting in Savannah can be a bit hazardous. Many dangerous spiders and such things. Ask 3D about the giant spider that leaped out after her which I heroical fended off with a lance which I quickly made from a tree limb, helping her to safety (although she may tell an entirely different story). So be careful. Also, if anyone tells you (while scouting) "Don't worry! I'll remember all this when we set the trail". DON'T BELIEVE THEM! With flour in hand, hiding in the bushes, listening to "ON-ON" from less than 100 feet away ISN'T as much fun as it may sound (unless you like that kinda thing).
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| 08/04/01 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash (Hares: Little Red Dryer, Spank Me Officer) |
Little Red Dryer, Spank Me Officer |
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Starting on the back side of UNF while winding through various foul smelling parts of mud, swamp, mosquito lairs, gator trails and the like - finally ending in the nature trails area. So, in short: The trail was awesome. I got wet (several times). I got muddy (I didn't GET Muddy, he wasn't here today) and I got the "willies" from several spider webs and various bugs that we ran into.
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| 07/28/01 |
Anonymous |
Jax Hash (Hare: Too Sexy) |
I'm Too Sexy For Sex |
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Although a blistering hot day trail was actually quite fun.
The most aggravating part was when we shortcut (and couldn't find trail), backtracked and then followed trail to the same spot that we shortcut to, only to realize that there was freshly laid trail.
With the hounds hot on the trail the hare finally was caught when almost within site of the On In - all thanks to Flying Meatballs
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| 05/09/01 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach Hash (Hare: Slick Willie) |
Slick Willie |
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Two Times, Chum and myself decided to Cut - thinking we're smarter than the pack and we know where Slick was headed. Humph. WRONG! After running an extra mile in a complete circle we finally got back on trail to realize that we were way behind the pack that had stayed on trail. Once we finally found the beer stop we were a bit agitated to find out that the beer truck had long since left.
After playing "Is it that way? Run...run...run... Is it that way? Run...run...run." three too may times, we concluded that we were utterly lost and headed to the closest major road only to get right back on trail again. Thinking we could quite possible be DFLs we stepped it up a bit only to realize that we were actually FRBs (and quite to my amazement).
How was trail? Well considering that we saw only about half of it I'd have to say that you'll need to ask the rest of the hounds...
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| 05/02/01 |
Anonymous |
Jax Beach "Pick Up" Hash (Hare: Cum Chum) |
Cum Chum |
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Here's everyone after the "run". Pick-up Hash - Cotton Panel and F' Me Snoring caught Cum Chum (original Hare) soon into the run. They also completely screwed up the run by not coordinating where they were going to meet after setting a YBF. Hashers followed Cotton Panel (who was entirely lost and had no idea where he was going) ... CP also ran out of flour (and only thanks to VO bringing flour was there more trail set). Anyway, since we were all lost the end ended at the beginning.
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