When: July 28, 2016
Where: McPherson Metro (Lafayette Sq) (Orange, Blue, and Silver Lines)
Hares: Bumspringa, Have You Blown My Stapler?, Close Your Eyes and Hope for the Breast, Cum Locker, Daddy’s Dick
Virgins: No one told the WH4 scribe to write those down.
Visitor: No one told the WH4 scribe to write those down.
On-After: 51st State
Penis Fly Trap here, imbibing on dinner wine here to give a shitty trail run down. So no shit there I was, h*ading towards Lafayette Square, DC for the WH4 invasion trail of EWH3. I had just cracked open my Miller Lite on my walk over from the bus stop, and before I knew it I rounded the corner to see the White House! Fuck the stares I got as I drank my brew, because I felt as like a true American!
Apparently I was not the only one who felt thirsty in front of the majestic splendor of the White House. Dwarfus Interruptus was found chugging down a tall boy, because ‘Merica! Sign in was special as anyone wearing a WH4 hab got a special r*n count added to their name thanks to Seven Queer Stitch record keeping. So hell yeah did I see a lot of WH4 swag on trail!
Cum Dumpling lead our trail intro. Our hares had promised us shiggy, but upon retrospect they really just promised us PI and mud. You fucking sadist!
On trail the pack witnessed what was coined “old man on old man hate crime” as Tuck Tuck Deuce and General Farm Animal were found on trail to be arguing about either which way was true trail or which way was a better short cut. Who knows! Sir Lance-A-Little pointed out how Tragic Carpet Ride was one of the few to complain about his shitty 10 dollar whiskeys. I guess he was expecting more than what he bargained for?
Trail led us up to Dupont and into Rock Creek Park. The pack experienced glorious amounts of flora and fauna. Well more so of the poison ivy kind, and boy was it plentiful! As the pack followed trail many a hashers noticed the hobo villages, and DL hookup spots. Oddly enough, Dial F was one of the few to notice which particular spots we had missed!
Shot check was a delicious concoction from a jug. La Gingeracha exclaimed that that was how one could get herpes. No fear cavalry, because I hear you can’t get the herp if you’re on your period! Hasher’s make the best medical professionals, AmIRight!?
As trail ended we gathered around to drink our brews while simultaneously rejoicing in surviving another trail. That was until Gispert opened the clouds and a blazing downpour came upon us. Cock Whisperer led circle without missing a beat, because who will let a little sky shiggy stop us from our traditions? The lightning and thunder only added to the thrill of our end circle shit show!
Our visitors from Charlottesville H3 and London H3 entertained the pack with bouts of nudity and songs. The Hares were violated for laying a shitty trail that some would carry with them for ages (thanks to the PI). Urine Grande Trouble was violated for adding Fireball to people’s beers at beer check. I would say that wasn’t the first time I’ve tasted something strong in my beer before. Just as Gispert would have ironically planned, as soon as our circle was over so did the rain stop.
After swing-low was sung the pack headed out to the on-after at 51st State, where we all celebrated the hashy birth of one of our hares, Have You Blown My Stapler?! Shots were poured and beer was certainly flowing in celebration! Happy hashy birthday bub! Till next time wankers!
On-Sky Shiggy Makes Me Wet-On!
Penis Fly Trap