#1162 December 9, 2007 West Falls Church

Hares: Knee Deep Pussy High, Bob Lowblaw, Chlorine Will Kill Everything

Virgins: Just Bonnie

Visitors: Just Cathy – Cairo (transplant)

Brew Crew: Gay Rod, Thong Butt Not Forgotten

Beer Bitch: Just Kim

Analversaries: Big Bang - 300

Long Time No Seers: Delivery Boy, Penis Pen Pal, Coin Operated

OnOnOn: Mark’s Pub

Once again, the hash met on a beautiful (read: cold and wet, like your mom) Sunday afternoon. Knee Deep Pussy High greeted hashers with an 80% chance of getting really wet on trail, but even those who had been trying to get wet all weekend (present company included) were bitching about being cold and wet. “We don’t want to be cold and wet” they whined. “We like hot and wet.” Bitch, bitch, bitch. Regardless, in addition to all the whining we did, we ran a shitty trail through Falls Church (not just kinda shitty, I mean really shitty. I even got my shoes dirty!).

Knee Deep Pussy High encouraged everyone to bring her (sex) toys in support of the Toys for Tots program (and because Bob Lowblaw is apparently “falling down” on the job, if you know what I mean). If you didn’t bring her any toys, there’s still time to do so next week. SERIOUSLY, have a heart, and give a toy to some kid you don’t know, and for whose existence you did NOT get to wake your neighbors by screaming out for assistance or support from almighty God. Really, give that kid a toy.

In other important news, we did happen to see Can’t Fuck Dust last week, when the aliens sent him back to Earth, albeit under the influence of some serious manner of telepathic mind control. The alien-inhabited form of Can’t Fuck Dust told us how he’d be leaving for the barren deserts of the Southwest in an attempt to see whether it’s easier to fuck sand than dust. We’re anxiously awaiting a full report on that issue.

Anyway, there was still plenty of ridiculous behavior this week. Let’s see what that was all about, shall we?

Violations:

Hares: Sent the walkers along the Dulles Toll Road. As is Chlorine Will Kill Everything now owes the state of Virginia about $8.25, and owes WH4 one safety third.

Bikini Lines: New shoes. Yes, they got dirty. That’s why it’s funny when you drink from them.

Knee Deep Pussy High: Regifted a white elephant gift to I’d Tap That.

Vagiant & Apollo Peed: Neither of these two were certain of how shitty the trail would be, so they pitched in to make it shittier than usual.

Put It Out: Racism. Not only did PIO run a half m*rathon before trail, he had to leave a bachelor party early to be ready for it.

Just Cathy: Quoted on trail saying “I have no talent whatsoever with balls.” We will train you. All you need is a “can do” attitude.

Gay Guy Counter: Dropped his fleece in cold water on trail. This would have gone unnoticed except that it was a transparent attempt to find a harriette that might be willing to “keep him warm” later.

Just Craig: Objected to drinking the shot because it was pink. I worry about any man who won’t eat something pink. Comments, ladies?

Hares: Led the pack through a Korean church parking lot. This isn’t funny unless you know (or believe that Monday Sticky Monday isn’t lying when he says that) “on-on” sounds a lot like “hello” in Korean.

The Hash Shit was not present. Rambutt and the Hash Shit have apparently eloped, and gone to Fiji. Please send photos, post cards, and wedding-night videos. Thank you.

From there, it was ononon to Mark’s Pub. The ambience (I mean smoke) was overwhelming. I’m sorry if you missed it. However, Wookin’ Pa Nub was overheard saying “I don’t put out.” The problem is, that not getting any and not putting out look a lot alike from the outside, but they aren’t the same thing.

On On,

Gay Guy Counter

#1160 November 25, 2007 College Park

Hares: Peace O’ Chum, Mount My Rear, Little Red Ride Me Good, Beaver Whack, Saskatchewsnatch

Virgins: Just Kim, Just Patrick, Just Heather (all filthy liars. Oops, I mean honorary virgins)

Visitors: Ass Spelunker – Tidewater H3, Pity Fuck – Orlando 2, Wonder Boy – Seoul, Victoria’s Secret – Seoul

Brew Crew: Gimme An Oohhh, Small Wonder

Beer Bitch: Just Patrick

Analversaries: Gay Guy Counter – 25

Long Time No Seers: Beaver Whack, RU 469, Hidden Assets, Late Nite Drive Thru

OnOnOn: Cornerstone Grill

Wow, this bevy of beautiful harriettes showed us all more shiggy than can be found in any vintage porn movie. We are still looking for confirmation that they have less bush than the trail did. Eyewitness accounts only, please. Photographs are preferable. In addition to our travels through the bush, everybody got wet on trail. Good for us. Not only that, but everyone who wanted one, got a sweet pumpkin pie on trail.

By the way, we still haven’t seen Can’t Fuck Dust since his alien abduction. I’ve been working diligently to obtain assistance in finding him so he might be rescued from any further anal probing. To that end, I contacted the SETI Institute (www.seti.org). I explained that our friend Can’t Fuck Dust had been abducted, and asked if they could help. First, they told me not to be profane. I assured them that was his name (that took a little while), and asked if they had any idea where I could find him. They told me if they had to go looking for every missing or abducted Tom, Dick, or Can’t Fuck Dust, there’d be no time to look for ET, or to sell all those cool pens, coffee mugs, and laser pointers. They do have cool travel mugs that look half melted, but that’s another issue. Then they said something about a field trip to Roswell next week keeping them all a bit busier than usual. At least until we find him, I recommend you all go to www.stopabductions.com for instructions on how to make your own preventive gear.

Violations:

Taster’s Choice: Choice of words on metro, when he yelled “Hey, there’s Semen over there!”

Mount My Rear & Beaver Whack: Sex on trail would be fine, except they didn’t let anybody watch.

Wonder Boy: T-shirt is wrong. It claims that he likes his women like his coffee; ground up in the freezer. It’s supposed to be hot, black and first thing in the morning.

Wooly Mammaries: Hash cash blowing away in the breeze. I’m guessing you can get a blowjob cheaper than that, dude.

Tastes Great Always Willing: Doing laundry on trail; she was washing her socks at the beer check.

Just Heather: Says she doesn’t like cream, but likes a shot of goodness. Know what that means? FACIALS!!!

Gay Guy Counter: Proves he likes cream by eating a giant stack of Oreos.

Motormouth: No concept of length. Assured Trojan that the airport was at least a mile away from the beer check. We were at the end of a runway.

Hares: Insufficiently trimming bush.

Queerly I’m Straight: Despite the new job driving a bicycle taxi, he showed up to the hash on his bike, and promptly fell over. Safety third.

Little Red Ride Me Good: Expressed concern that she didn’t want to get lost on trail. SHE’S A HARE!

Et Tu Bootay: Excited to be third in from trail. Do you mean safety third? We do!

Red Eye Vagina: Had a cool hat, but apparently Free On Weekends has bigger balls.

Taster’s Choice: Noted his lack of safety goggles on trail. Safety? Third?

Hash Shit:

Just like last week, the hash shit was not present. So guess what. We didn’t give it to anyone. There was almost a stunt Hash Shit, but it seemed like everyone was more than ready to hurry on to the bar for drunken hookups.

From there, it was ononon to the bar. There were drunken hookups, as expected. If you missed it, that’s your problem. Work harder to get your favorite hasher drunk next time.

On On,

Gay Guy Counter

#1159 November 18, 2007 Annandale

Hares: Put It Out, Texas T&A, Hokie No Pokie, Closet Slut

Virgins: Just Brittany, Just Shirley (Honorary), Just U.S. Boobs And Oral Report (Liar)

Visitors: Explodes On Impact – Memphis H3

Brew Crew: Turbo Twat, Jerry Ass Tricks

Beer Bitch: Just Karen

Analversaries: None.

Long Time No Seers: Pond Scrum, Senor Douche Berg, Closet Fuck, Just Patrick, Beetlejuice

OnOnOn: Annandale AMF Bowling Lanes

What can I possibly tell you about this trail? The reason I ask is that it’s been over a week, and I can’t seem to remember much of anything that happened before yesterday. Let’s see what I can recall. There was shiggy. There was water. There were wankers a plenty. There was beer. COLD Beer! There were warm shots! Incidentally, your mom was very happy about that. And it was only five bucks! It’s already beginning to sound better than I remember it. Since I can’t remember shit, we’re going right into the violations because I wrote those down down down.

Violations:

Blows A Tranny: No statute of limitations. Tranny broke his nose 2 years ago on a trail that started in the same location. He RAN INTO A TREE!

Dildo Shaggins: Spent $40 on a sports bra, and pronounced that she should have been spending this much on her boobs all along.

Monday Sticky Monday: Racism. Monday apparently did pretty well in a 10 M!ler that morning.

Hares: Romulan Ale theme went too far. Wookin’ Pa Nub nearly died when he tried to run into the invisible fence on trail.

Underground Railroad: Waited too long to remove her last facial. Cock A Doodle Do Me had to help with an alcohol wipe.

Just Brittany and Just Heather: Sex on trail. Apparently Just Brittany kept her hands clean in the tunnel by maintaining a firm grip on Just Heather’s hips. I am so jealous!

Wookin’ Pa Nub: Chemical warfare in the tunnel. Nub made good on his promise to fart in the tunnel.

Put It Out: “Spreading gayness.” PIO insisted that the runners’ flour was “lilac.”

Bob Lowblaw: Getting bloody on trail wouldn’t be a violation, except that it was all on his knees.

Wednesday: Plans to satisfy someone’s fantasies including midgets and ducks. Have you met our friend Duck Duck Bush?

Gay Guy Counter: Pen[is] failure. Gay Guy apparently refuses to write with anything but the wrong end of his pen when someone asks him to write a violation about himself.

Fire In The Hole: Intercontinental booty call. She apparently traveled all the way to Botswana to see Road Kill.

Hash Shit:

I’d like to take this opportunity to discuss something with all of you. I’d like to think I’m a fairly generous guy. As such, it would be my great pleasure to give everyone who reads this trash a brand new, bright red Ferrari. There is just one problem with that. I don’t have (or know anyone else who is in possession of) a brand new, bright red Ferrari. Care to take a guess what that means to you? You don’t get a brand new, bright red Ferrari. Why? It’s all because YOU CAN’T GIVE AWAY SOMETHING YOU DO NOT HAVE!!! So, while some of you were happy to issue nominations for the Hash Shit, and one of you was happy to solicit the nominations, I submit to you all that you wasted your time because Rambutt is still on a romantic island getaway with it. When she comes back, I bet she’ll still have it with her.

From there, it was ononon to bowling, where we all showed off our large balls, and asked the harriettes to be gentle with them. Somehow, I think 3-Holer would have been right at home, but he was nowhere to be found. Of note, Tabletop Bouncer achieved bowling greatness when she rolled a perfect 69.

On On,

Gay Guy Counter