Where: Ocean City, MD (and sometimes Delaware)
When: Friday March 2 @ about 7 PM; Saturday March 3 @ about 10 AM; Saturday March 3 Pubcrawl… all night. Sunday March 4 @ a time when I was still asleep.
Hares: Friday – Pick Up Hash Hares: you know who you are; Sat Morning Trail Hares: Haystack, Red River, Twinkle; Sat Evening Pub Crawl: WoWo, Haystack. Sunday: someone not asleep.
Virgins (yes, we had virgins. and I’m pretty sure we got them drunked up.): Just Barbara and Teddy
The weekend was an insane amount of fun and was a great success – kudos to WoWo, Red River and Haystack for an excellently laid plan and execution of the same. And not losing anyone. WHERE IS EVERYBODY? Remarkably, all together, and often on a bus – that’s where we were.
That being said, people still stupid stuff and here are some violations, which were told around Saturday’s campfire (diligently cared for by SWAB):
- Honey Nut Queerios couldn’t hold it in Saturday – the drinks he had Friday finally made their way out and onto a church on Saturday morning (pee, not puke, so that’s something)
- Compost, Whiskey, Yule Log and at least one other insane person got into the ocean in the middle of the Saturday morning hash. The rest of us stole their clothes and ran, ran away. They each had to run the remainder of the hash in varying states of undress.
- Aunt Vagina’s Maple Syrup was violated for using a fake ID to get into a sex shop. Which, is apparently now standard on Walker’s Trail. Appropriate hash behavior.
- Snap Crackle Poop was violated for refusing to buy a certain sex toy for Haystack. 1 if by Man, 2 if by She was then violated for yelling out the correct name for said sex toy during violations.
- Tragic Carpet ride came up with, and possibly followed through on, a new fetish – GILF. Grannies I’d Like to.. you get where this is going.
- Possession of Swollen Goods violated himself, by trespassing on the dunes and getting ass full of barbs from the brush and bramble he disturbed.
- hHh was violated for driving off the road on the way to Ocean City, the moment he saw the sign for SEACRETS (technically, I told this story to many people and we all drank and laughed about it outside of circle, but it belongs here)
- Fire Drill should have been violated for jumping in the fire a number of times, and for toasting marshmallows with her butt (she had some help), but that didn’t happen until circle was over – still belongs here.
And then the many, many hours long bonfire continued, during which time lies were told, friends made and three ♦namings♦ were had!!
There were a pair of Just John’s quickly named Just John # 1 and Just John # 2 (we are sooo slick). The Johns were instructed to tell a joke in order to see who would actually get named. Just John # 1 couldn’t finish his joke, so he was kerbed in favor of Just John # 2.
Based on the notes, it looks like John # 2 told a bunch of stories about poop and getting his member stuck in a zipper. But! Luckily for him, the headlines that day were full of stories about a man lost in a stolen canoe in ASSAWOMAN BAY. Which is now his name. The least innuendo-ish name ever, but has a great story nonetheless.
Just John # 1 was called to be named despite his joke-fail earlier in the day. The hash is forgiving. Based on the notes, he also told a bunch of stories about poop, and then apparently dancing with underage girls – apparently at least one of those stories took place in Asia, as we now have the hasher affectionately known as ASIA MINOR.
Side note – one of the Just John’s actually answered Yule Log’s infamous question with a recent date – Yule Log was super stoked that the question finally paid off!
After this, there were a number of beer duels, though the ‘why’ for that has become fuzzy. Other than the fact that watching Whiskey and Twinkle throw beer cans at each other is good, clean fun.
And last but not least, Just Patricia was named towards the end of the evening! Most of her stories started with “well, my sophomore year in college” so she narrowly escaped being named something to do with band camp. In the end, SIGHT FOR SORE GUYS won out (something to do with being locked out of her room and a soccer team).
After the bonfire, the party migrated to the bar crawl – which was excellent. Fajita bar was delish, the Bearded Clam welcomed us, the VFW will never be the same again, and Dial F got kicked out of Seacrets. Need I say more? Hope not, because frankly it’s a bit hazy through the beer. You wankers don’t remember any more than I do though, so it’s all good. And probably for the best.
To those of you who couldn’t make it – calendar it for next year now. Do it. Right now. Good job.