Hash Trash: EWH3 #539: Cock ‘n’ Roll

EWH3 #539 – C*ck ‘n’ Roll, Metro Center

Hares:  Cock Your Suck I Will, Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me, CoXXX on Demand, Slumcock Anywhere, The Cock Strikes 12, Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock, Shamrock Your Cock

Brew Crew:  Runs with Bulls, Marco Homo

Virgins:  Just way too many to keep track of

Visitors:  Just Josh (Hindu Kush—transplant), Turbo Pussy (Boston—Transplant), Fucks Ewes (Portland)

Analversaries:  17 runs—Sextion 7 Housing, The Whores on the Bus Go Up and Down, 1 Girl, 2 Cups; 100 runs—My Little Pony, Do Me Howser

Ononon:  Penn Quarter Sports Bar

 

The hares were so excited for us all to party like c*ck stars that they brought party favors:  star-shaped sunglasses, fake tattoos, inflatable guitars, and confetti poppers.  In honor of the late Michael Jackson, all the sunglasses were too small for anyone who didn’t have a child-size head.  After circling up, the pack embarked on a trail so messy that it deserves its very own E! True Hollywood Story.  We went through about 42 back checks before having to either climb over or sneak through a gap in a very rusty fence and reaching the shot check and downed a fruity concoction that the hares insisted was called, “The Cock of Paradise.”  Maybe that’s what they’d like us to call it.  After having our shots—both alcoholic and tetanus, after that fence—we climbed another fence and ran through some urban shiggy to the beer check on top of a parking deck.

 

A couple beers later, the pack took off through the urban shiggy before reaching the scariest place in DC.  No, I’m not talking about Anacostia.  I’m talking about Georgetown Law Center campus.  Fortunately, most of the pack managed to escape unscathed, with all their money intact.  (To the guy soliciting for the annual fund, give me a chance to pay off my damn loans first!)  We then zigged and zagged through the Police Memorial and Chinatown, coming dangerously close to the On-On-On, before ending up at the same parking deck where we’d had beer check.

 

Violations:

  • Chippen Fails had a really good ride, but he just couldn’t stay up.
  • Ass Spelunker turned another year older
  • Put It Out he tried to emulate Michael Jackson and give himself a nose job, but he ran into a tree to do it and just ended up with a bloody face for his troubles.
  • Big Bend Over wore a raceist t-shirt AND bragged about being the 3rd person into beer check.
  • Do Me Howser went to the ice cream truck to hang out with the little kids gathered there, but wouldn’t let any of them lick his popsicle.
  • Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Cock got a new job doing math for a living and resigned himself to never getting laid again.
  • Cute Lesbian in Training said, “I smell mothballs,” while running with Tar Squeal.  I know it may have been a while, but that’s not a nice thing to say about Tar Squeal’s vagina.
  • The hares for thinking you could make a trail entirely of back checks.  More hares doesn’t necessarily equal a better trail, but when there are 7 of you, you can rotate on and off the ice in circle.
  • Cocktuplets still doesn’t have a hole, even though there’s an operation to fix that.
  • Silly Gay Virus was wearing the loudest, most obnoxious neon shirt I’ve seen since I was in grade school.  Good thing those sunglasses actually fit me; I needed them just to look at it.
  • Assflac made out with Just Maisie (WOWO’s weimaraner) and said he’s had worse.
  • Big Bend Over was looking for the first aid kit because his nipples were chafed, and he wasn’t even wearing a corset.
  • Bow-Chick-a-Bow-Bow is the worst wingman ever; he was going to bring something for Can’t Get Beaver to bang, but he forgot.
  • Floral Sex, Double-Ohh Positive, and Please Step Away from the Whores auto-hashed in a cab.
  • The Cock Strikes 12 tried to give people shots of flour.  Despite all appearances, it’s not Jesus Juice from concentrate 
  • Just Steph was rubbing a confetti popper, trying to figure out how it worked, when it went off prematurely, in her hand.

 

Violations from the Crowd:

  • Floral Sex can fit more in when she loses muscle tone.
  • Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me tried to impersonate the drummer from Def Leppard, but she has one arm too many.
  • Sexion 7 Housing said that no matter how you violated her, she still wouldn’t come all the time.
  • Assflac is allergic to pussy, especially when it gets close to his face. 
  • Osama Bin Put It Out wrapped his t-shirt around his head to look like a turban.
  • Tits for Tots wiped out on trail but was relieved to at least not have hurt her bone.

 

Then we had a NAMING!

Just May attended the Naval Academy, where she majored in oceanography, and is now a supply officer.  She’s a lightweight who gets drunk on 2 beers, but she is a pro at booting and rallying; her record is puking 5 times at the Preakness Stakes.  Just May lived in Bancroft Hall and once got caught having sex on the roof.  She has two tattoos, one of which is a tramp stamp with Chinese characters that she says mean, “hope, prosperity and double happiness,” but actually means, “enter here.”  The other tattoo is a monkey on her hip with the words, “Pura Vida,” or “life is good.”  Just May owns a dog named The Dread Pirate Roberts, which has to be the most awesome pet name ever.  She likes to leave her underwear on the balcony, and when she lived on a ship, there were 2000 Marines on board beating off while thinking about her.  Or her underwear.  Just May once got her sister arrested for assault, and gave her coach a boner when he heard her faking an orgasm.

 

Names (that didn’t suck) were:

  • VOUS (Vaginas of Unusual Size)
  • Pussy on a Hot Tin Roof
  • Hey, Hey, Here’s My Monkey!
  • Red Roofie Inn
  • Win, Place, or Throw
  • Anchor Twat
  • There She Blows… Again
  • And
  • Have Fun Storming The Asshole!

 

Who can resist a Princess Bride reference?  We sure can’t, so henceforth and forevermore, throughout the world of hashing (except Great Falls—fuck them!), Just May will be known as Have Fun Storming the Asshole!

 

About half of us made it to the on-on-on, drank cheap beer, saw one of the most amusing table reservation signs ever (“Natural Distaster Wedding Party,” a bit redundant if you ask me) and tried to get laid.  It was horribly crowded, so apparently, the other half went to a different bar, drank cheap beer, and played flip-cup, presumably while also trying to get laid.  Now that takes some coordination! 

 

Until next time, keep partying like c*ck stars,

Tits for Tots

EWH3 Scribe