Thursday, June 4, 2015. 7:00 pm.

Dear Diary,
It finally happened. The moment I’ve been dreaming of since I first got that tingle between my legs. The thing I’ve lied about having done before, the thing I’ve researched for hours on the internet, and the thing I’ve practiced by myself (a lot)—I finally hared. I can’t believe I did it. It was all of our first times. It was a beautiful, magical, transcendent moment. And it hurt a lot. And there was some blood. Let me tell you all about it…

I knew Dial F’s summer camp in the wilds of Forest Glen would be special. It was raining so hard, just like it does during moments like this in all my favorite romantic movies. I held my breath, and with great anticipation, I reached boldly into the unknown—to the warm, soft, damp flour. My fingers fumbled aimlessly for a bit, but before I knew it, I plunged in, pulled it out, and threw it down.

To be honest with you, the rest of it is a blur. I know we crossed a river a time or two, I know there was a tunnel and we were up to our knees at some point, and I know we were absolutely drenched. We definitely should have laid some towels down first. But it was great.

And I can’t wait to do it again.
I just wish we could have cuddled a bit more at the end.
And I should probably see a doctor.

Until next time,
Your newly minted hares: Diddle Her on the Roofie, Slothy Seconds, Finding Creamo, and FarBlow

Whew, RW&P back here. Was everyone else as turned on by that passage as I was? We’d better cool down and get back to the basic details here. Unless that’s what gets you going, in which case, have at it!

  • (Actual) Virgins. Um, it rained on that page. They were all in relationships, anyway. We batted .000.
  • Visitors. Nobody. Or everybody, because nobody lives in Forest Glen.
  • On-After. Denizen’s Brewery

And of course, there were some VIOLATIONS!

  • Penis Fly Trap was running around with the top of her ass showing. Marijuana may be legal in DC, but crack is still illegal in Maryland.
  • Roll Over, Bitch’s shorts announced that his “ass got slammed,” both because that’s actually what they said and because a mysterious, smelly, brown substance covered them by the end of trail.
  • Make Love, Not Warcraft daintily ran with an open umbrella. Next time, I expect a song and dance, Fairy Poppins. And finally,
  • Wank Like an Egyptian was bragging about his new underwear. You know what we do with new things at the hash…

And as if that wasn’t eventful enough for a first time, there was a very solemn occasion: a NAMING!!

Just Mauricio comes to DC by way of Colombia, pretends to be an economist, and was represented in school by a castrated turkey. His hobbies include golf and getting caught by his dad while jerking it. After giving up on going down on a particularly smelly girl and on the services of some untalented blowjob suppliers, he finally lost it to a more experienced woman in the front seat of a Ford Escort. Notably, Just Mauricio had a few run-ins with the authorities while using a fake ID; once he escaped, and once he served another dude’s community service. A few names were suggested including Escort Cervix and Ali-Ass, but because the name on the fake ID was Mohammed and because he evaded capture by taking refuge in a bush, Just Mauricio will henceforth be known as Al-Hide-A!

On- American Pie -On
Red, White, and Poo