Hash Trash: EWH3 #876– 2015 Where Is Everybody (WIEEEEE) Weekend!
March 6-8. Ocean City, Maryland
Upworthy headlines may have restored your faith in humanity, but this weekend’s debauchery at Ocean City was sure to undo it. Learn how two-and-a-half days and one quinceanera changed our lives forever. You absolutely won’t believe what happened (when you were blacked out).
But first, a super, massive shout-out to the WIE committee (Hungry Hungry Homo, Bless Me Father for I have Rimmed, St. Paulie’s Girl, Dr. Toolittle, I’m Tho Thor, Red Vag of Courage, and Whoregon Trail) for a great event. Your stress and lack of sleep ensured we all had an awesome time. I hope you accept beer as a token of our gratitude (seriously, buy these guys a beer).
Second, violations! Since listicles are the laziest form of journalism, here’s:
Seven WIE Quotations That Were Actually About Your Mom
- “This muffin is smashed but I’ll eat it anyway”—Ballzheimers
- “I really wish I hadn’t forgotten my body glide”—Fail Her Poon
- “It was just slip, slip, splooge”—Unobtanium
- “I don’t know where to put it, since there’s no place on my body that won’t be wet and nasty.”—Special Red
- “In the universe of salty shots, this is one of the better ones.”—Aunt Vagina
- “So slippery it’s dangerous”—Glitty Clitty Gang Bang
- “Leaning forward and swallowing? That’s my specialty.”—Just Patrick
Nine Moments Where Hashers Were Soooooo Over It
- When Infidellatio tripped over garbage.
- When Rear Protein Injection couldn’t give away his taco.
- When Connect Whore took two wet, white loads to the face.
- When Kindergarten Cock looked better than most hariettes in their shirts.
- When Dr. Toolittle stood motionless in the face of an incoming Frisbee.
- When the ballbuster hares tried to convince us of their Big Peckers.
- When You Can’t Handle The Poop had less grace on ice than Bambi.
- When Roll Over, Bitch described crossing the street as a “Sisyphean task.”
- When Hungry Hungry Homo fell asleep at 8:30 pm.
Eight Times Hashers Accidentally Revealed Too Much
- When Miss Me Gag Me solved a dick check.
- When Dr. Toolittle declared “I don’t fuck.”
- When St. Paulie’s Girl silently nodded.
- When The Gourd, the Bad, and the Slutty demonstrated an unimpressive “great, big handful” of rummy bears.
- When we learned Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock’s and Whiskey Business’s not-so-safe words are “turkey” and “sponge,” respectively.
- When There’s A Clap for That explained his technique as “just put your hands into the two slits.”
- When RPI responded his was “just push and shove until you get everyone in.”
- When Kindergarten Cock shook his head and described his WIE experience as “too much penis.”
Third, a bunch of awards!
- The ball/liver buster trail featured a series of events including the Civil War “Battle of Man Asses” and dizzy bat baseball. Wookin Pa Nub* was declared the winner and awarded with more beer. *I think. Things got a little fuzzy at this point. (12-ounce reasons why my notes are a little cryptic!), and
- The Iron Bartender competition was won by The Cherry Shot Ladies. That probably wasn’t their title and I may have failed to write down their names, but they should take solace in the crowd’s approval of their alcohol and its delivery!
But fortunately, the records are much improved for the main event: The 2015 Rear End Loader award! It was a hard-fought battle with many brave competitors, but after a grueling examination of the brackets, the undisputed Friday champion You Can’t Handle the Poop squared off with the undisputed Saturday champion Special Red. Since he was completely unaware of his nomination and distracted by the chance to play in the sandbox, Special Red was declared the victor! Congratulations, Red. Proud day for you and your family.
And finally, we had two other solemn occasions—NAMINGS!
Just Patrick is a long, tall Texan who studied “Agricultural Leadership and Development,” which apparently translates directly to “fisting a lot of farm animals.” Sadly, those skills don’t always translate to other mammals, because his most embarrassing sexual moment was explaining that his forearm was too wide for prospective partner. He had sex in a van while his parents were waiting inside, and unfortunately had to give head to a micropenis. A couple fun names were suggested, but it was over quickly when, because he bluffed about his heterosexuality and was once dealt a bad hand with a tiny penis, Just Patrick shall henceforth be known as: Texas Hold Him!
Just Lizzie was both a WIE virgin and a hash virgin, making her the bravest woman I know. This maid from Manhattan attended Colgate (which four out of five coeds prefer) and gained her powers of GM seduction from years playing softball at an all girls’ school. Although she generally wasn’t persuaded by her lesbian hobbies and suitors, she escaped handcuffs when she was chased by the authorities. She enjoys sailing and other exploration, particularly on prom night while her mom was camped out and listening on the other side of the door. A series of humorless names were presented, until we learned her high school fight song was a multi-verse, hand gesture-filled, celebration of the beaver. And now, throughout the world of hashing, Just Lizzie shall be known by the culmination of that song as: It’s Beaver Time!
On- -ward to the sweet sixteen -On
–Red, White, and Poo