EWH3 #637: Pre-Game the Beach Trail, Shaw/Howard University Metro

Hares: Miss Me Gag Me, Rear Protein Injection,  Just Ryan, Yule Log, and some erroneous walkers hare

Virgins:    Just Braden, Jonathan, Kim, Katie, Amelia, Mike

Visitors:    Semen on the Pew, Monterrey Mexico HHH
Nothing Sucks like a ___??, Monterrey Mexico HHH (I really need to write clearer)
Wang Chunks, Chicago Hash

OnOnOn:    Wonderland Ballroom!

368 runs before this date, a wide-eyed, young military man by the name of Just Tim arrived at this “running club” that he heard about.  Over the many years, many runs, and many terrorized women, he evolved into something more than Just Tim- yes, he became Wax On Whacks Off, or WoWo.  This is his 369th trail.  Read, all ye, and despair!

The pack circled up right outside the exit of the Shaw Metro, thick with nostalgia of last week, when it was 65 degrees at the start.  Sorry, hares- not everyone can be as perfect as the previous week’s jorts-sporting sex machines.  ANYWAY.  After much ranch-dressing-eating, the pack was off and on trail.  We promptly got lost because EWH3 hares are the greatest!  We ran through some of the more pleasant areas that DC had to offer, hearing cheers (or jeers) from the locals as they tried to comprehend why a bunch of idiots in boardshorts were running through their neighborhood.

We hit up the U Street then turned up the hill towards Howard University, where we had a beer check in the parking lot amongst more confused faces.  Some of these confused faces were from hashers, as we are used to some nice beers waiting for us, with a delay here and there.  But then it became apparent that Plan B was sick, and with the help of multiple hashers (Blows A Tranny, Hungry Hungry Homo, etc), we were soon back to what we do best- drinking!  (Note: there was a shot check, and this delicious/terrible concoction was being passed around while waiting for beer, but I was unaware.  That is, until I had a cup full of it).

And we were off again, following a live and somewhat-longer-than-the-first-half second half of trail.  THAT was a mouthful-unlike our illustrious GM Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock!  We ran and ran and then came to the Washington Hospital.  Leaving caution to the wind, the hares took us in, weaving back and forth between parking garages and getting lost, giving ample time for the Strippers to assemble and kick us out.  We then ran alongside the road, Strippers blocking entrances to the hospital, before we turned and made it to the end- a slightly raised parking lot with dorm and apartment buildings towering over it on three sides and open to a busy road on the fourth side.  Note to self: our hares would not make good military tacticians.

The pack waited on beer and the promise of chili because, after all, it was Wax On Whacks Off’s 369th run!

It was Wax On Whacks Off’s 369th run!

It was Wax On Whacks Off’s 369th run!

It was Wax On Whacks Off’s 369th run!

It was Wax On Whacks Off’s 369th run!

Anyway, get the picture?  The Campus Strippers eventually came and busted us up before we could start circle or chili.  The pack then walked to Wonderland Ballroom, where Jabba the Cunt was waiting with the chili goodness.  Luckily, the fine hipsters at Wonderland allowed us to serve our chili on their porch, because, well, no other bar would really allow such a thing, and they’re sooooooooooo hip and counter-culture!  We ate, danced, and had a circle where there should have been…

Violations, but Twinkle is a dictator!  Let’s use Twitter to knock him down- first Ben Ali of Tunisia, then Mubarak of Egypt, now Twinkle of EWH3!  We can do it!  Hashers of DC- UNITE!

Er….sorry, got carried away.  But for real, they would have been SUPER funny!

We did have our Jubilee come out (hmmmmmmm, I wonder why?!) and of course, due to the ludicrous but impressive backlog at EWH3, a naming!

Just Ryan went to the George Washington University and got his masters degree at Penn.  He had sex with Miss Me Gag Me’s friend on St. Patrick’s Day 2009 but fell asleep during, making us wonder if Miss Me Gag Me hangs out with limp fish or if Just Ryan has his own issues.  He loves expelling bodily waste in random places- peeing on bars, pooping off roofs- you know, the usual.  He hosted a field hockey party and passed out naked on the floor while the party raged all around him.  He slapped somebody and made her cry (note- this could be erroneous, as I cannot read my handwriting due to the PBR).


Cockadile Tears
Bareskin Rug
Shat on a Hot Tin Roof
Clap On Clap Off the Pooper
Turds and Bees
Slipped a Roofie
Turdettes’ Syndrome

After much jeering (just kidding, it was a “quiet” circle), it was voted that Just Ryan would become Turdettes’ Syndrome because collectively, we are 5 years old and love to giggle.

Everyone seemed moderately happy,
Whiskey Business
EWH3 Scribe