1052 - Jan 29, 2006

Incoming Mismanagement Trail

Hares: Hokie No Pokie, Can't Fuck Dust, Stop the Erection I Want to Get Off, Rocket Socket
Start: Old Hechinger Shopping Plaza, Springfield, VA
OnOnOn: Boomerang Bar and Grill
Virgins: Just Drake
Visitors: Sir Jerks a Lot (transplanting from Boston), Urinator (Frankfurt), Winn Dick Me (transplanting from CHarlottesville)
Beer Bitch: Just Drake

The first real trail of the new mismanagement year was put together by Hokie No Pokie and other members of the new MM. Hokie spent half of the morning OnOnOn trying to wrangle his co-hares into action. He failed and left a perfectly good OnOnOn in the presence of beer, food, and harriettes to go lay trail. You know you're in trouble when Hokie is considered the responsible party.

Even Are You In? thought it was too good to be true and figured Hokie would find a way to fuck something up. She decided the likely point of failure was in the directions to the hash and so a convoy set out for the afternoon run with Are You In? pointing the way with her feet out the windows.

At the start, a second wave of holiday party hangover victims was upgraded from "comatose" to "wanking wounded." Various virgin-like persons and visitors gathered around Wang Chunks to suffer through some sort of hash orientation. The hares took this time to demonstrate that they learned from last year's new mismanagement trail and used flour that was NOT the color of dog urine and invisible on snow. They also convinced the RA to not call for any snow. Safe on both counts.

The pack circled up and Just Drake was re-introduced for an encore performance as "The Virgin." Just Drake attempted to rat out Sir Jerks a Lot to reprise his role as "Guy Who Made Him Come" but Just Drake stumbled over the nerd name/hash name issue. He quickly caught himself and asked if there was some sort of punishment for that. Yes, young man, and it's an assfucking. The visitors were made to introduce themselves with far fewer incidences of hash faux pas. The hares came in to introduce the trail and perform an interpretive dance they called "Father Abraham." It was very moving.

And then the pack was away and running. Well, for a short bit, anyway. I Dream of Weenie pulled up quickly so Just Murphy could crap out the dwarf she ate the night before. The rest of the pack recoiled in horror and backed right into the Urban Assault Challenge Course with shoesucking mud, rusty nails, freezing water, barbed wire, tunnels, and tunnel hazards. Put It Out attempted to lodge a complaint with the harerazor over the lack of safety lighting in the tunnels. Good luck with that.

Sir Jerks a Lot went down with a twisted ankle in the freezing stream. Bad Ditch, Sucks Cock for Crack and Wang Chunks arrived on scene to assess the situation. Experts in first aid, the three applied a splint of "Boston hashers must be pussies" and then Sir Jerks was up and running.

Back into the tunnels we went. The trail wasn't all that hard to follow. You just had to look for the marks Put It Out left the last time he hared a trail under the Springfield interchange. The only real difficulty was determining where the water was too deep to cross. Obeseiologist, helped us all out by measuring each pool with his body. That worked fine until he hit the first one which was deeper than he is tall. If that guy ever needed a new name, it could be Dipstick.

The pack eventually made it in to the beer check where brewmeister Jackoff Lantern was waiting with a tasty beverage and a bowling ball. Go figure. Hokie No Pokie informed Wang Chunks that the sweepers were in behind everyone. Everyone except Bad Dog, but he always finds his own way. And that he did, stumbling into the beer check late w/ a few cuts on his face, the MVH3 hash shit and, wait, where's the Bad Dog light? Bad Dog somehow made it through the tunnels with no light. Now THAT is zenning.

A regular two-timer, Just Drake became beer bitch for the day. If he shows up for one more hash, he'll be eligible for GM. The pack started to complain that the beer check was lasting too long and our shoes were drying out. Little did we know that the rest of the trail didn't even have any water. Except for the BT that Put It Out invented to drag the latter half of the pack off the trail and into the shiggy. Put It Out backed out of his own BT experiment and eventually a hare, Stop the Erection, came over to the VRE station to watch the lemmings claw their way up from the creekbed, through the briars and over the really big pipe. Titly Winks and Winn Dick Me couldn't resist stopping to ride the pipe.

The rest of the pack was already on in at this point and munching away on leftover macaroni and cheese sandwiches from the party the night before. Don't worry if you missed out. There will be more leftovers for the next few weeks. We circled up and Follow the Bleeder started the "circle timer" by peeing uphill on the parking deck and forcing us to finish before the puddle reached the circle.

Titly Winks welcomed the pack and called out the old MM for a quick down-down. In no time we were into the violations and there were some good ones. Obesioligist managed to drop his fourth full drink of the day and Hokie No Pokie kicked over a beer. Slip Knot got busted for stopping at Burger King on the way from the beer check to the on-in. Your faithful scribe was called out for allegedly being funnier as scribe than as religious advisor in a previous life. You be the judge.

Jackoff Lantern performed some magic in circle and produced a pair of finger cuffs for Titly Winks' next down-down. The cuffs were barely an impediment and Titly Winks easily demonstrated the talents that made her RA. The pack was left wondering what she can't do with her just mouth.

Hokie No Pokie stepped in to inform the pack that the bar was probably not open yet, only had expensive food, and had drinks with funny names like Son of a Whore and Itchy Grapefruit. I wonder how that tasted.

1051 - Jan 29, 2006

Holiday Party Fatboy Recovery Hash

Hares: Spinal Tap & Hasher Humper
Start: The Taphouse (home of ST & HH)
OnOnOn: The Taphouse (home of ST & HH)
Virgins: Just Drake was made to come by Sir Jerks a Lot
Visitors: Sir Jerks a Lot (transplanting from Boston), Udder (Buffalo), Hash Hoots (Buffalo), Just Meg (an orphan who only hashes when her parents come to town from Buffalo)
Beer Bitch: Just Meg

A small but hardy pack gathered at the home of Spinal Tap and Hasher Humper for the traditional WH4 post-holiday party recovery trail. Titly Winks kicked off the opening circle and Spinal Tap and Hasher Humper set the pack out on "trail" after the worlds fastest version of a single verse of Father Abraham. This surely must have required some sort of auxiliary battery pack for Spinal Tap's pacemaker.

The trail was shitty and shorter than the turd I dumped before I left home that morning. It had few merits and many demerits. With no beer check, the pack was left with little reason to actually leave the start. At the Turkey-Eagle split, the turkeys walked 20 yards and blundered into a backcheck to start. The eagle followers (who ended up as the real turkeys here), went off in some other direction to encounter unknown obstacles that caused Bad Dog to finish as FRB. This may be due in part to Bad Dog's shortcutting around the "shiggy" in the side garden.

When the pack re-assembled, Titly Winks welcomed everyone to her inaugural circle. She thanked them all for attending the holiday party the night before and assured them that she had a good time since there was no nudity, no bondage, and no fire play. The hares came in for a down-down and showed virgin, Just Drake, how things were done. Just Drake was dragged to the hash by Boston transplant Sir Jerks a Lot, his new roommate. They met on gay.com or craigslist or something. Wow, what a way to get to know your roommate. The Vagina Gallery attempted to welcome Just Drake, but got a little tripped up when they forgot to remove their ball gags from the night before. Whatever they actually had to say wasn't as good as the thought of them all with ball gags.

Visitors Udder and Hash Hoots were welcomed from Buffalo. For Christmas, they received a some expenses paid trip to the WH4 holiday party from their daughter Just Meg. Sir Jerks a Lot didn't have anyone to pay his way into the holiday party so he missed it but decided to stay in the DC area and hash with us anyway.

Around this time erstwhile GM, Wang Chunks arrived, pushing former GM Bad Ditch's record for on-time arrival. Wang Chunks was late because he was chauffering Boston visitor The Jizzmoppa and "J.Mo" had to work late at the Crucible last night. The circle paused to cherish the touching moment when Boston hashers J.Mo and Sir Jerks a Lot were reunited in this faraway land of White House. The silence was broken when Jackoff Lantern arrived with SSBB. He's clearly taken his new role as brewmeister seriously, bringing the beer late to the first hash of the new administration.

And then there were violations... After a party like that, there were bound to be a few things to talk about.

Are You In? got ratted out for asking Read My Lips if her chest still smelled like the pyro chemicals from the fire play. No honey, Read My Lips showered at some point after the party or after sex or after sex at the party.

Titly Winks was reminded that last night she was overheard saying "I'm Type O- for cock. I'm the universal recipient." Know-it-all Obeastiologist (pronounced 'Obeastiolojizz', note that the T is silent) corrected her by pointing out that a) AB- is the universal recipient and b) O+ is the universal donor. Fortunately for us, this is the last smart thing Obeastiologist said or did that day.

Pond Scrum relished his role as "sober guy with a memory" from the party and had a number of violations to contribute. First there was his concern that Late Nite Drive Thru might have been having a seizure on the dance floor. Then he realized this "seizure dance" was actually just her dancing. Pond Scrum's concern came to be known as the "safety dance". Next, Pond Scrum called out It's Buttfucking Time for retelling a lame-ass story of her naming. It's Buttfucking Time's version has something to do with not getting named for a while and Are You In? blurting out "It's about fucking time" or something boring like that. Pond Scrum's version included a demonstration that involved the big hand at 11 o'clock, the little hand at 4 o'clock and lots of spanking and grunting.

And then we were on to the Hash Shit. New RA Titly Winks had a little trouble adjusting to the job this morning. She had to stop at Target to pick up a new hash shit. She wandered the aisles for a while until she found the plungers, but all they seemed to have were blue plastic models w/ a handle reminiscent of a butt plug she "saw" at the Crucible. She found her way to a store clerk and first asked him if he had any rope. Then she held up the plastic plunger and asked him if he had "wood". I'm not sure what she got from the Target clerk, but if he couldn't help her out, she still had the handle of the new hash shit.

There were several nominations for the Hash Shit. For Sale Or Rent for misusing her umbrella-shaped sex toy in the circle, Hokie No Pokie for not knowing he got brained again by Pond Scrum at the party, Bad Dog to unify the MVH3 and WH4 hash shits, and, finally, It's Buttfucking Time for finding the bartender hot and, being inexperienced with little people, having to ask whether she should bend down or lift him onto a table to make out. Sadly, It's Buttfucking Time didn't get to try out either technique, but she did get the Hash Shit. For future reference, Meatloaf has found that kneeling is a workable approach to making out with a little person. Documentary evidence is available.

Titly Winks wrapped up her first circle with the realization that a year of Sucks Cock for Crack as RA left the pack not knowing the motions to Swing Low. However, the fun didn't end there. Your eavesdropping scribe continued to collect the odd pearl of conversation throughout the on-on-on:

Piss in Boots' cock-grabbing party antics came up as a topic of conversation. The question: Is she freaky? The verdict from Hokie No Pokie: No, but she and Stop the Erection sure do fuck like bunnies.

Speaking of sex and animals, Read My Lips bemoaned her pussy's rejection of her paramour, Backdoor Buckaroo. In this case, it's not some sort of allergy. Her cat just doesn't like the guy. But how can you not like Backdoor Buckaroo. When two hashers realized they went to or were somehow related to the same high school in Delaware, most of us didn't give a shit. Backdoor Buckaroo focused on the important stuff and pointed out that "Milford High School" contains "MILF". Good boy.

Two Lips in the Bush commented on the S&M themed holiday party as odd circumstances to meet the parents of the girl he's dating. This effected a realization by Are You In? that her backup man (Hokie #2) is no longer single. This means she needs to keep Hokie #1 on a shorter leash, especially around hazards.

Another common topic was the bartender who was only able to pour short drafts at the party. Number 2, apparently an authority on such matters, corrected our misconception that he was a midget. "This guy was a dwarf. Midgets are proportional. Dwarves look like you did this to them." (makes hammering motion in conjuction with a squashing noise) Doggy Style seems unconcerned with the correct terminology, but observes, presumably for the ladies' benefit, that the dwarf/midget had a tongue like an Alsatian. What does that mean and why does he know?!

At this point, Are You In? excused herself and asked if anyone else needed the bathroom since she was about to "Go tear it up." When she returned, Obeastiologist continued the arc of his downward spiral, but telling Are You In? that there was a girl at the house that looked like her sister, but with longer eyelashes. Yes, that would be Are You In? with her fake eyelashes. It's ok, Obeastiologist, Hokie No Pokie watched Are You In? put the fake eyelashes back on this morning and then waited 5 minutes before asking her if she realized she was still wearing the eyelashes she had on the night before.

HOLIDAY PARTY - Jan 28, 2006

Holiday Party at The Crucible

“I speak my own sins; I cannot judge another.” --John Proctor (Act IV)

Unfortunately for you all, I am not John Proctor. I do judge and I only speak of your sins (and name names, of course).

Your friendly neighborhood Pond Scrum here to retell the tale of everything you all did on Saturday night. I was a victim of circumstance, (ok liver disease) so I was sober during the entire holiday party. In my sobriety, I am, as Piss in Boots would say, “Like a Hippopotamus, because a hippopotamus never forgets.” So let me tell you a tale; sit back, relax, it won’t hurt a bit…

Before I start the tale of the things that occurred, the things you missed, and the things you tried to forget, let me start out by saying thank you to the outgoing Mismanagement for throwing a kick ass party. Everything was great, and went off without a hitch. Well, except that one girl that refused to give her name when I was working the sign-in. I sincerely meant it when I called you a dumb whore (as a term of endearment of course). Seriously though, when we are trying to sign you in to make sure that you received all of your loot and you would not give your name, well you are indeed a dumb whore. I hope that is what your necklace reads… not that I am bitter or anything. Nonetheless, it was a kick ass party and here is the tale of the wild ride that was the holiday party.

The White House Hash House Harriers invaded The Crucible on Saturday night. No, not the play written by Arthur Miller (it’s not like we are cultured or anything) but a sex club located in the District that proved to bring out more Abigails then Elizabeth Proctors. The party was full of chips, dips, chains, whips; your standard Hash House Harriers orgy type of thing. Complete with a little person for a bartender.

To start off the first act of this party, I was greeted by “My Name is Earl” reject Big Bang. Sweet John Holmes porno ‘stache dude! What makes it great is that Sucks Cock for Crack had a matching one. That’s not suspect or anything you two… I did watch Big Bang stuff the flyer for “Twisted T Monthly Men’s Party” in his pocket though. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Snatch Shot, who lays claim to Earl (Snatchy, I think you may have some competition), was asked by a passer-by if kissing her husband with his freaky mustache was like going down on a chick. Well, is it?

After walking around the club, one of the lounges was showing some quality porno. However, it was quickly ruined by the future GM Wang Chunks with his new ass-less pants and visible ass-welts. Seriously Wang, I was trying to enjoy a great scene of Lesbian Fuckfest 17 and seeing your ass really didn’t help. I resumed watching the quality cinematography of such a choice art film when Green Peace of Ass quite loudly exclaimed, “What could they possible do in 17 that they haven’t done in the previous 16.” That was enough of enjoying the art film, so I decided to meander around and check out the rest of the club. I also needed an excuse to walk around and be able to document all of your fuck-ups and write this gentle reminder of what the hell happened.

Big Sweaty Pussy quickly demonstrated that he does not know his way around a woman; whether it is a real woman or an inflatable one. Big Sweaty Pussy danced with his inflatable woman on the dance floor but kept demonstrating that the holes go all the way through. 2 Lips in the Bush was very quick to point out that the holes going all the way through make it much easier for clean up. Maybe if you weren’t wearing a skirt to a party, 2 Lips, you could actually get laid rather than express your knowledge of blow up dolls. The blow up doll did not last long, though, as she was impaled on the Festivus Pole in the middle of the dance floor while Big Sweaty Pussy tried the elusive hole-switching maneuver. (Some of you might call that big pole in the middle of the club a stripper pole, but stripping is degrading to women. Besides, this was a holiday party. What better holiday is there then Festivus?) The pole was rammed too hard and fast in his date, and she was never the same for the rest of the night.

In the upper lounge, there was an assortment of racks and various “torture” devices. It looked a lot like a secondary dungeon for that of the main floor. Sucks Cock for Crack was asked if he was going to climb up on the cross, but quickly responded “Hell no, my people don’t go anywhere near those things anymore!” Follow the Bleeder stood in awe of the dungeon and commented that the title “Dungeon Master” for the Crucible management was dorky. This led us to ponder whether Frazier would at some point in the night roll his twenty-sided dice and yell “An orc just killed your warlock. Minus three health!”

No such luck, but Frazier did demonstrate some of the wonderful toys around the club. The Whore of Sarajevo gave the crowd a marvelous demonstration of the winch and suspend upside down apparatus. I do not know what it is called but numerous mumblers around the demonstration area said the device was great for a standing 69. I said that it was just a great way for the BDSM crowd to get off by being a human piñata. It was suggested that I try the suspended apparatus thing, but I know better than that. If I was hanging there upside down and someone stood next to me, it would just look like a scene from the beach where the fisherman gets photographed with their catch. Sure, it would be funny for the first five seconds, but for some reason I really doubt you guys would let me down.

The night progressed, the party moved on, and the partygoers got way more interesting. Yellow Sub-my-weenie was observed looking through the secondary porno stash in the main room and thumbing through the titles. Notable titles that he pulled out to read were “TRANSVESTITE!” and “Bound Leather Torture”. Can’t Fuck Dust was looking over Yellow Sub-my-weenie’s shoulder and commented “Hey, Eyes Wide Shut is here, is that a good movie? I’ve never seen it.” I find it interesting that “Eyes Wide Shut” was the movie on the rack that you haven’t seen. This was about the time a female hasher came up to me and asked “Pond Scrum, do you think that I would be kicked out of this place for having sex? I mean, this place really gets me going, and sometimes, you know when you’re horny, you just gotta get laid.” I am not going to out this female, but I will say: Hey Holy Mackerel I hope you stepped up to the plate and knocked one out of the park because pitches don’t come any better than that. Again, I told you I wouldn’t tell you the name of this female with her burning desire, but her name rhymes exactly with, Raise My Titanic.

Speaking of getting laid, Meatloaf was jockeying for position over Bad Ditch to win the affection of our little person bartender. Both women gave their numbers to him, but, we learned that to ride Meatloaf you indeed do NOT need to be “at least this tall to ride this ride”. Bad Ditch was edged out and Meatloaf eventually got to make out with him. In case you were wondering, kneeling is the acceptable way of making out with a little person, not lifting him up on a table to bring him to mouth level. Score Meatloaf! Maybe it was the roller skates that intimidated him, Bad Ditch. I’ve seen “Boogie Nights”; Roller Girl fucks that dude up with her skates. The roller skates were a nice touch. There is something about women in tight leather wearing roller skates. We were fortunate enough to have three women just that way. Mud Flap pointed out that the problem with having sex with a chick in skates; it really limits the positions because they can roll away if you try to take them from behind. That may be true, but when they pass out from the ruffie you slip them, they are much easier to get to your car….umm… so I’ve been told.

The Final Act of this party was quite a thrill. There are many things that I learned. First, Ego Testicle, you make one hell of a gimp. The ball gag was a nice touch. You really need to talk to your mistress, Smooth Groove, though, for letting you run free. There was “Gimp Parking” at the picket fence with the iron rings on it in the back of the club. I understand the cage was taken for a while by Hokie No Pokie occupying it, but he wasn’t in there very long. He was moved to the table to be tied down. Rocket Socket complimented Hokie on his technique in the cage. SCFC pointed out that Hokie didn't spend much time in the cage. Hokie said, "Oh yeah. I guess I was a little tied down last night." Here's a man who has no problem with commitment. During Hokie’s time being tied up, he managed to get another brain. Somehow, the inviting runway of Hokie’s forehead attracted my testicles… again.

Hokie was not the only one to find himself tied up though. Our new RA Tit-ly Winks found herself tied up on one of the racks. In the words of Frazier, “Nudity was highly encouraged.” Jack Off Lantern tied her up masterfully using a knots that would make a Boy Scout leader blush. This was definitely not JOL’s first rodeo. I am just glad that he chose to blindfold and tie up this RA rather than the last one. Think about that one in your nightmares kids! Being tied up was all part of Tit-ly’s new home business. It’s a lot like a pet sitting service, but different. Just ask her.

I know there is a lot that happened in between but I am not Tolstoy, and I am trying to keep this trash relatively short compared to the evening. Some notable observances are:

* Healthy living sucks. Drinking water and Diet Sprite at a party is not fun. Watching you guys drink beer and sitting on the sidelines BLOWS! I do not recommend it.
* Even if you are going through EMT training and you observe Late Night Drive Through having some sort of spasm in a club, do not approach, she is not having a seizure; that is just her dancing.
* Piss in Boots was concerned that her boobs kept popping out of her shirt. Seriously, my boobs are bigger than yours; I wouldn’t be too overly concerned about your boobs falling out. Plus, why would people want to see that? Have you seen my tits? I fill out a tube top way better.
* Ladies, those really were full kegs that 2 Lips was carrying. Be impressed. Some ladies were leaving a little puddle when he walked by and I told you he was carrying out full kegs. Why did you not leave a little snail trail out to SSBB and be the second group to have sex in the van.
* Tit-ly Winks’ vagina is Type O positive for the cock. It is a universal receiver. Also, her new The Crucible Member number is: 0564328
* Poodle Fucked had to do no special shopping for his wardrobe. It was just stuff he had lying around. He was very proud of that fact.
* With Snatch Shot wearing a hard hat, she and Big Bang only need an Indian, a Policeman, and a Navy guy to have a really good party.
* Wearing leather and latex sounds like a really good and sexy idea, but wearing it for a prolonged amount of time, just gets hot and chafes.
* Yelling “hey, It’s Butt Fucking Time!” across a sex club gets a very favorable response; especially by the club owner. Explaining that you were not actually announcing what time it was (admit it, you would buy that watch if it did tell you that kind of time), but you were calling out someone’s name is a moot point.
* Thong Butt Not Forgotten and Tri-ass-a Thong have no thong rivalry about their names. They should though. I believe that the one who can sign as “thong” in their emails can only do so by winning a K-Y Jelly wrestling match. The winner can go by whatever name she chooses.
* Sex club equipment needs to come with diagrams on how to use it just like a Nautilus Machine at the gym. Bloody Hand Job, was kind enough to explain to some of us how some of the stuff works. Not bad for someone who “has never been there before”. Sure I believe you… Wink. Wink.
* Mother May I was captured on film licking Wang Chunks and Wang never seemed to look so disinterested. What’s wrong with you? There are people that would pay good money for that to happen. I know this, because I looked at the flyers around the club.
* Many people, (ex. Wookin Po Nub) complained that they had never heard of the type of condoms that the club had to offer. In the midst of their complaining, they filled their pockets with the condoms.
* There were tons of pictures on the walls, but some things just rub people the wrong way. Of all the different poses and such that show inflicting pain and tied up women, it was the portrait of the old guy just staring at you that disturbed Nippon Tuck.
* Finally, whoever you were that refused to give your name at sign-in, I STILL think you are a dumb whore.

This play ended and I’m sure there are many stories to tell that I missed. I wish I had the time to tell them all and wish I was there for them all. I am not omnipresent. Sure, I am a god but not the God so to be everywhere is a hard act to do. I’ll try better the next time but until then I will leave you with the immortal words of last year’s RA to carry you into another year of hashing: “You cannot unsuck a cock.”

And don’t you forget that sage advice!

Until the next episode,

Pond Scrum

1050 - Jan 20, 2006

Hares: JackOff Lantern, Two Lips In The Bush, Big Bang, I Dream of Weenie, Bad Ditch, Please Step Away
Start: Near the Waterfront-SEU Metro, SW DC at the corner of 7th St
and Maine Avenue, SW.
OnOnOn: Cantina Marina
Visitors: Just Chris (transplant)
Virgins: None
Beer Bitch: Just Cindy
Analversaries: Rocket Socket (69), Yanky My Wanky (25)

That's right folks, this is the last hash that is under the misguided control of the current administration. The new admistration was decided by a super-secret ballot method that is prone to abnormalities. (How else do you explain how we got elected in the first place?) As follows tradition, the last hash is hared by the outgoing mismanagement.

Now, this seems like a fine tradition, but let's think about this for a second. Assuming we're looking for an interesting trail, why on earth would we ask a group of folks who are sick and tired of dealing with the hash. These people are busy planning the finishing details of what is bound to be a killer Holiday Party and flat out worn down like your sisters mattress from a years worth of dealing with the whining and bitching of various hashers (you know who you are). Why do you think they would want to bother finding new territory, a decent trail, a decent bar and a police free beer check/finish? Hrm.... well if you keep these thoughts in mind and consider the fact that the scribe is on the outgoing mismanagement and hared, then you'll understand what I mean when I say it was an awesome hash.

The hash put their final campaign headquarters in the middle of a parking lot near the Water Front Metro. The last time the parking lot saw this much excitement was probably during the Clinton Administration where he would meet new interns to show them the ropes at the near by docks. If you want more details, you'll have to ask Motor Mouth who lives near by on a boat down by the river, but he was noticably absent. Anyway, we sang a hearty version of Father Abe and off we went through the neighborhoods of SW DC.

"There sure are a lot of gated communities around here," French Toasted was overheard saying. I suspect it has something to do with familiar territory. If you grow up with a lot of bars around you, the culture shock of having bars around you in a pound-you-in-the-ass prison isn't so bad. Maybe that's why the Crucible is such a popular tavern in the area.

After running around in dangerous neighborhoods for a while the hares put a nasty check at the bottom of the point less than a block away from the beer check. Despite TwoLips' bright red shirt and Are You In?'s shouting, Monday Sticky Monday, Boner and Put It Out all took a wrong turn without even paying attention. Sure was nice of them to get the runners back together just in time for the walkers to arrive.

Brew Crew (who were busy laughing at the FRBs) served some week old Yuengling, we named this hot blonde Just Cindy beer bitch. (I think she was blonde. It was a week ago, I've been drinking every night, and I can't say I was really sober when I met her the first time. It's entirely possible that she was a brunette leper that plays a doctor on TV, but let's just say for the sake of the story that she's a busty blonde who likes to drink in excess and throws killer parties in New York City. Ok? I'm sure Just Cindy won't mind and I think 38 Flavors will be glad to hear we found someone to step up in her absence.)

Eventually Fuck 'em Dano decided that we had had enough beer to drink and kicked our sorry asses out for a run. We shuffled up through a park, played a little pick up soccer with the locals, scared the hell out of a homeless dude who was just trying to take a piss and noticed the white powdery substance on the EPA building. Thankfully, we were following the substance to the finish and we were done with the last trail for the current administration.

Violations
Fuck 'em Dano was violated for inviting Pond Scrum's wife to the holiday party. What the hell are you thinking?!? How is Pond Scrum supposed to get laid at an S&M club if his wife is around?

Raise My Titantic sang us a new song. To the theme of "If You're Happy and You Know It":
If you think you might be gay, then you're gay
If you think you might be gay, then you're gay!
If you think you might be gay, & dream of Takes It Up The 'Eh
If you think you might be gay, then you're gay.

We had a violation for borderline new shoes. We had to get the Senate Footwear Panel to have some hearings as to whether or not Bad Ditch's roller skates counted as new shoes. The dark-beer-o-crats argued that wheels or no wheels, those were simply shoes with additional hardware attached. The light-beer-in-cans postured that the holes in the shoes would prevent the "shoe" from being a suitable drinking vessel, therefore making it "not a shoe." It was a heated debate and a PBR-i-buster was barely averted. Thankfully, both sides decided that the only way to decide if the skates counted as shoes was to see if they held beer and if Bad Ditch could drink out of it. For the record and future reference, roller skates work perfectly well as drinking vessels.

Hokie No Pokie maintained control of the Hokie shit when Are You In? ratted him out for nicking little Hokie. Hokie maintains that he's not so little. He was going to add a razor to the Hokie Shit, but after review, it was decided that even a safety razor was not "Hokie Safe." It is the scribes understanding that this final violation may bring the Hokie Shit to an end. We will miss you our friend, and we look forward to the day that Hokie fucks up so badly that we have reinstate it. (See you next week.)

BigBang managed to earn himself the hash shit when he freely admitted that all the hare razor duties had been done by a computer program. This isn't really a problem, nor were the allegations of inappropriate use of government resources (what else was he going to do?). No, the real problem was that he made the program just as bitchy as the real Bitchy Bang. I mean, come on, if you're going to fake something at least make them double Ds that just keeps saying "Sure, that sounds like fun!" (If this doesn't sound right to you, I recommend you bring it up with next year's MM scribe and have them issue a correction. This scribe is done in an hour and clearly has no respect for the truth anymore.)

And finally, we have an example of how far Hokie No Pokie has come this year. When he first started the year, Hokie showed us that he enjoys the naked hashes more than most, when he trips & falls and hurts his head he gracefully accepts bean bags as cold compresses on his head and that he has a girlfriend who is willing to put up with all this shit so long as one part of his anatomy still functions. (Hint: it's not his liver, that quit a long time ago.) Today though, Sucks Cock For Crack was making an announcement of the holiday party and the flasks that are being given away when Pecker Wrecker claimed "I already have one." Hokie made the brilliant observation that "She's from the future."

With that, I bid you adieu and hope that next year's scribes are better than me. If not, tough shit, you couldn't give me enough beers to make me think this was a good idea again. (Ok, it's not really that bad. Or am I just saying that so that someone will actually take the job.... I have keg in my fridge. Want to find out?)

1049 - Jan 15, 2006

The MILF Hash

Location: Reston
Hares: Short Bus Bitch and Vominatrix

Visitors: Two- including one that came in late to the end in true Bad Dog style- and we thought it was BD until he got closer.

Virgins: Yank Me Out brought a Virgin, Just ?, but she left midway through the hash when she realized it was 5 degrees with a windchill of -15. Smart woman. Smarter than most hashers here today.

It was so cold that my snot froze and gave me two walrus-like snotsicles at the start. Luckily I had my warm wool blanket, courtesy of Virgin Atlantic Airlines. Seen shivering at the start were Tit Ka Boob, T'n Eh?, Shlong Time Cumming, and TriAssAThong. Hash dog Just Zoey was keeping the perimeter safe from stray leaves, which have been known to attack hashers on cold days. Wowo and Maizie looked and sneered, since Maizie was waaaay past her leaf-attack days and she now only chased logs. Speaking of hairy logs, Wowo, Put It Out, and Hornblower thought today would be an ideal temperature to wear shorts and show off their manly legs. Puppy looked cold, but NipponTuck called him a wuss since she was used to this weather growing up in the UK.

The trail was a scenic jaunt through the trails of suburban Reston, with assorted trees down here and there. This proved to be no problem for our hare Short Bus Bitch, who has the baby stroller 4-Wheel Drive model. Just Joey was asleep in her plastic cage and did not notice a thing, but became jealous when Shlacking the Bishop sped by with his double-wide version with Just Chase and Just Sierra sticking out their tongues.

We arrived at the shot check to find Cums In a Sailor passing out white Russians to the pack and listening to the Steelers game on his portable radio. Score at this time- Steelers 21, Colts 3. Cums was grumpy that he was missing the game to stand out in the cold and serve drinks, but he was bribed by SBB who promised him anal sex later. However, she forgot to mention that she would be giving and he would be receiving, so in fact Cums was getting screwed twice in one day.

The beer check was in sight, and I veered left looking for the bathroom. The colder it is, the more your pee steams when you go outside. Interesting. I arrived at the beer check to find Wang Chunks and Test Tube Baby huddled around the portable radio and leaning against Shitty Shitty Bang Bang's grill to stay warm. Steelers 21, Colts 18. Fourth quarter, one minute left. Cums had consumed the rest of the white Russians in his nervous attempt to help the Steelers win. It was all his fault- he knew that he should be watching the game at home and this threw off the Steeler's karma.

Red Eye Vagina was huddled against the van trying to stay out of the wind, but instead broke his own wind. After hearing a small popping sound echoing off metal, I saw REV giggle when he let out a KIA (killed in action). He did this again on Shlong Time Cumming, but Shlong was grateful for the warmth REV's gas provided. PIO was spotted dispensing medical advice to the crew of Mt Vernon hashers that showed up today: Becuz He Can, Ass Hopper, and French Toasted. I overheard something like "When you can no longer control it, there are additional options." Big Bang, Rev, Shlong, and myself agreed that PIO was talking about their bladders. We are very lucky to have PIO dispensing this advice to the older crowd.

The beer check ended with Choo Choo in the Poo Poo named beer bitch again (hint- bring virgins or this poor guy may become the beer bitch permanently). However, he is a pro after being the beer bitch for the past three weeks. The pack left the same way we came in, down a steep hill. Hokie No Pokey was behind me in his cool Pink Floyd pants, and he was really nervous because the hill was not Hokie-Safe. I asked, "Is anything Hokie-Safe?" Test Tube Baby quickly replied that all NERF materials were- so we may want to think about ordering a NERF box for Hokie to wear when he leaves the house. Piss In Boots and Stop the Erection agreed- but wondered how he would fit into a car, especially PIB's Mini. I say strap him to the Roof Rack (the car part- not the hasher). He can borrow my helmet.

The trail to the end was shorter and doubled-back on itself, but some hashers were still lost at the end: TriAssAThong was mia, and she had the keys to the Ongmobile, which was a bag vehicle to Wowo, T'n Eh?, Tit Ka Boob, For Sale or Rent, and Shlong. So they stood around shivering until she wandered into the end, Bad Dog style with Zoey, an actual dog. Maybe they were lost chasing leaves to keep the pack safe. Bad Dog made his usual late entry, but after the stunt version of BD arrived first and confused everyone.

Long time No See-ers: Evil Jesus, Watergate.

Anal-versaries: Poodle Fucked (200), Ass Hopper (100).

Violations: Poodle Fucked for his sventastic disco outfit, HerShe Kisses for her girl scout outfit, REV for his gas issues, Shlong Time Cumming for enjoying REV's gas, PF again for his dog Dan drinking white Russians at the shot check, and finally Short Bus Bitch for making her hubby miss the Steeler's game and making him take it up the ass later. Sucks Cock for Crack also drank for looking like a child molester and making leery faces around HerShe Kisses and the Milf's children.

Hokie Shit: Well, he still has it. Only one more week until it's retired.

Hash Shit- Read My Lips had it for the past few weeks, but she gave it up to RUN?, who got it for her biting problem. The evidence included the bruise on my arm, so I voted heavily for her to win it.

The End. Love Snatch.

1048 - Jan 8, 2006

Hares: Blows a Tranny, Cock a Doodle Do Me, Mother May I, Taken Orally Twice Daily
Start: Woodrow Wilson HS front parking lot near Tenleytown Metro.
3950 Chesapeake St. NW, Washington, DC
OnOnOn: Atomic Billiards 3427 Connecticut Ave, Washington, DC 20008
Visitors: There may have been a few, but no circle = unknown.
Beer Bitch: Just Alan
Analversaries: Unknown.
Virgins: None

This would be a trail the likes of which WH4 has not seen in quite some time. Where does one start on such a story of epic proportions?

I guess we should start from the beginning. For those who don't know, when you sign up to hare you are given some canned tips from the harerazor. Despite these tips (and the warnings from several other hashers who have been around the block) these hares decided to ignore all signs and set an A to B trail that traversed 3 metro stops and seemed doomed to be extremely long.

We circled up behind the Whole Foods in Tenleytown, where the hares in their coordinated bright yellow shirts led us in an excruiciatingly slow version of Father Abe. Eventually we left the circle in a direction AWAY from the finishing bar. We ran down some very long straight streets, found some dirt trails, got lost, missed a shot check, wandered around looking for trail, found the trail again, spotted a BN sign, a cop, and half a mile later found the actual beer check.

Why was the beer check half a mile away from the BN? Well apparently the cop had a bit to do with it, along with the fact that the hares failed to give directions to the location of the beer check they were supposed to use. Without directions, brew crew actually had to ask the kind officer for directions to the beer check. We believe the dialog went something like this:

"Excuse me sir, I'd like to illegally publicly distribute an alcoholic beverage. Do you have a recommendation where I could do this?" (-- Pond Scrum)
"Sure, right down there behind the Japanese Ambassador's Residence." (-- Mr. Magoo)

So after what really didn't seem to be that far, we finally found the beer check with the beer van pouring some very tasty Bourbon Ale -- oh, and something light too. We then shuffled down Klingle Park and found Cock a Doodle Do Me camped out with the bag van waiting for us. We managed to beat the beer van. Wow that was short!


Then the problems started....
Apparently a hasher or two had been caught urinating in public at the beer check and the US Park Police managed to find us on the other end of Klingle Park. We also discovered that Klingle Park is now off limits to pedestrians and is "clearly marked" with a defaced sign that may have at some time said it was closed. Eventually our excellent brew crew staff Pond Scrum and Jack Off Lantern managed to convince them to leave us alone. They sweet talked 'em so well that the Park Police even provided Jack Off a map of their jurisdiction and provided a few ideas where we could go and not be in their jusidiction.

Since we didn't feel the need to put these officers of the law into a bind and force them to arrest us, we decided to go someplace else to circle up. Tipper Whipper was kind enough to volunteer her place. Apparently she's the president and secretary of her home owners association and as president, the authority of the board said it was ok too. So we wandered up the hill and continued drinking behind her place.

Seemed like a good idea at the time. We ate, drank and were merry. We were just starting to circle up when the flashing lights that we know so well were back. Dumb Blonde blurted out the inspired line of, "Flashing lights don't mean disco." Shit. "If there's alcohol in those cups, pour 'em out or you're going to jail," were the first words out of the kind officer's mouth. (Quickly followed by the sound of 15 cups being inverted.) Apparently it is illegal in the District of Washington to gather en masse on public or private property without a permit. Apparently the First Amendment of the Constitution only applies if you have a permit in the District. With that our second circle was broken up and we decided to give up and just head to the bar. I think I'll stay in Virginia for a little while.

Looks like I'll just have to do violations here on this trash. One should point out that just because they have been documented here does not absolve you from the responsibility of drinking appropriately for your crimes.

Obeseiologist entered into break dancing contest last night and lost. (Demonstration required before down-down.)

TriAssAThong thought that the walkers were walking too slow so she went militant on them and turned it into a forced march, making Runway Snatch sweat despite the cold temperatures.

Her She Kisses promised to come to a hash in her girl scout outfit to try to sell some cookies. We're waiting patiently with our cameras.

Mother May I was out at a party theo ther day and got stopped for performing an illegal U-Turn. Apparently the rest of the people in her car reeked so much of alcohol that the officer thought she was drunk. The violation here is that she was #1 driving and blew a 0.02. She should have been in the back with her friends and blew a 0.12.


MISCELLANEOUS ACCUSATIONS/STORIES
I don't know about you, but when I'm having sex, my idea of protection usually involves a condom and maybe a soft mattress. Are You In? though has a seriously skinned knee. Kind of looks like she's having football sex and she needs a full set of pads. Hell, that sex might be so good she might deserve an award such as the Heisman. Hrm.. we don't have one of those. How about the hash shit?

Book Smart Pussy Dumb and Hop On Cock allegedly got engaged the other day. Maybe Book Smart ain't so bad with the pussy after all.

FUN QUOTES OF THE DAY
"My knees are all banged up from last night & my ear hurts." -- Bad Ditch
"TwoLips, what's your name?" -- Titly Winks
"You can't get pregnant if you park the car in the garage." -- Pond Scrum