WHEN: Thursday, June 25th, 2020

WHERE: Garfield Park (HOLY SHIT, NOT *MY* HOUSE?!)

HARES: Poon-Apple Juice, Schrödinger’s Cock

So there I was… quarantined for 104 days, only leaving my house to beer and other necessary supplies like liquor and hard seltzer, trapped in the darkest recesses of my mind in an existential quandary that would drive Nietzsche insane and strike terror into H.P Lovecraft for being too horrific, blistering my hands from masturbating too much (protip: hand sanitizer does not make good lube)…


Actual reaction we all had to the idea of human contact

That’s right, it was our FIRST REAL-LIFE TRAIL in over an astronomical season! Since it was June 25th, the theme was Halfway to Christmas! Only six more months, or two more quarantines, until we get to open presents and argue with shitty relatives!

Santa’s not the ONLY one cumming…

Given that it had been 3 months since our last trail, a LOT of us were rusty and forgot how trail worked, and we did some STUPID shit:

  • Schrödinger’s Cock was violated for being overheard on trail saying “It’s too thick for my face, I can’t breathe!” Buddy, you’re not supposed to breathe, you’re supposed suck!
  • Poon Apple Juice was violated for being overheard at beer check saying to Schrödinger’s Cock “I’m gonna let you go first,” as if we all didn’t already know SchröCo would finish first anyway…

Even the cummendations came with a healthy dose of snark:

  • GPS was “cummended” for doing his part to keep the pack socially distanced on trail by solving checks by himself without telling the rest of the pack that he was ON-ON.
  • Just Kirsten was “cummended” for not getting hit by a car. Usually when I set the bar THAT low, I regret whatever I wake up next to.
Then again, when they wake up, they have regrets too…

Things got even worse at End Circle…

  • Schrödinger’s Cock and Close Encounters of the Turd Kind were violated for screwing up their jobs at End Circle. Look, I know that dry spells can leave you out of practice, but at a certain point it’s just embarrassing…
  • Tony Panda was violated for being SO excited to legally try out his brand new vape pen in DC, but as soon as he pulled it out, he broke it. On the bright side, it’s least it’s not the WORST thing that can happen when you fuck up pulling something out.
  • Although we missed a TON of birthdays during the quarantine, we had MANY to celebrate on trail this week, including Shamrock Your Cock, Poon Apple Juice, Deetz Nuts, and The Cumburglar. We were unable to pour any fluids on the birthday people due to social distancing rules, but know that just because we couldn’t shame you with our eyes, we will ALWAYS shame you in our hearts.

The pack as a whole was not spared for their transgressions:

  • GROUP VIOLATION: Everyone who showed up to the first post-quarantine trail but didn’t post any pictures in the Google Albums or join any of the Zoom Circles. Seriously, who the hell ARE you people? Show me your genitals, you long-time-no-seeum!
  • GROUP VIOLATION: Everyone who forgot their hash necklaces. Come on, I know you’ve spent most of the last three months naked at home, don’t you feel naked without it?


Close Encounters of the Turd Kind

WHEN: Thursday, April 16th, 2020

WHERE: Your House


On April 12th, 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first human to orbit the Earth! EWH3 celebrated this by getting drunk, running around on our own personal trails, and posting about our separate adventures on this week’s Google album.

Yuri Gagarin | World History Amino
“Fuck this whole planet, I’m leaving!” – Yuri Gagarin, April 12th, 1961

Despite all of us being in isolation, a lot of us did dumb things that we had to make fun of at our Virtual Circle. Violations included:

  • Roll Over Bitch was violated for being an attention whore. I’m not sure how you made your picture the top one of the album, but I guess that means you were top of the class at Space Cadet Academy.
  • Kooter Kunte was violated for overwhelming pent-up sexual frustration. She just had to get outside and ride the biggest log she could find. In her defense… she did buy it snacks afterwards.
  • Head Injury was violated for posting a sticker that says “You’re beautiful.” Nothing makes me want to puke more than the thought of listening to James Blunt. I had almost forgotten about him, but you had to make my day worse. Speaking of puking…
  • Poon Tang Clan was violated because of reports that somehow she ended up puking on her personal virtual trail. She must have been conducting microgravity research if she ended up riding the Vomit Comet.
Vomit Comet (With images) | Archer, Gif, Animated gif
Artist’s interpretation of Poon Tang Clan‘s virtual hash experience.
  • We didn’t need to violate Around the World in 80 Lays because she got violated by Just John in the shower. I hope he stuffed harder than you stuffed that cornish hen!
  • Colliteral Damage was violated just for being a literal fuckface.
  • Geriatric Mandering was violated for being so over isolation that she traveled all the way to British property just to take a leak. That gives new meaning to the phrase “crossing the pond,” especially when you’re filling it with piss.
  • Scröodinger’s Cock was violated for not recognizing Close Encounters of the Turd Kind‘s out-of-this-world ass.
  • Just Kirsten, Deetz Nuts, and Mourning Wood were violated for being creepers and doing virtual circle from outside of #Squadholes and Tik Tok It’s Dick O’Clock‘s apartment window.
Image - 249988] | Do The Creep | Know Your Meme
  • Bitches Give Stitches was violated for being the worst Brewmeister in EWH3 history, because since he started he hasn’t actually done his job once!
  • GROUP VIOLATION: Everyone who didn’t file taxes on or before April 15th. Hooray extensions on assignments!

It wasn’t all dumb shenanigans though. No circle would be complete without a few cummendations:

  • Poon Apple Juice was cummended for going through great efforts to achieve mission success. She went out of this world to get her hands on some pussy. Hope it tastes good!
  • Knocked Up was cummended for keeping my shitty joke of exclusively drinking Corona going during this pandemic even after I ran out last week.

ON-Don’t ever visit r/spacedicks-ON

Close Encounters of the Turd Kind

WHEN: Thursday, April 9th, 2020

WHERE: Your House



VISITORS: By the Power of Gayskull

Alright, buckle up, butternuts, it’s time for your (virtual) scribe report! It’s National Unicorn Day–no the REAL unicorns, not just bisexuals who are DTF with curious couples–and global pandemics aren’t going to keep us hashers from being fabulous! Check out the Google Photos Album to see how crazy we all got while social distancing before circling up via Zoom.

However, despite easy instructions on how to hare your own trail, some of you committed violations and were called out for it.

  • First up, we had to violate Pinnochi-Ho and Split Her Bare for abusing the elderly. I can’t believe they made Geriatric come to them for the alcohol delivery! And Pinnochi-Ho, I don’t even care about Split Her Bare’s innovative delivery mechanics, a true gentleman goes downstairs for a lady.
  • Next up, Edward Sissy Hands is being violated for not following theme taxonomy. In his picture, he’s got a beer for dragons, a stuffed gnome, and a human bard, but no unicorns. This isn’t a goddamn D&D campaign, this is HASHING, we have a reputation to uphold, you need to take this more seriously!
  • Up next, we have to violate Poon Tang Clan… for being a fucking RACIST!!! Don’t act like we don’t see that “I Run Disney” shirt, this is HASHING, we have a reputation to uphold, you need to take this less seriously!

Also, just because we’re doing all this virtually doesn’t mean we’re allowed to slack off on our regular duties. Like I said before, we have a reputation to uphold!

  • We have to violate Cocktease Falcon for not attending (even virtually) the hash that she was supposed to hare. I’d call her a cocktease but… we kinda already did that.
  • Throbbin Hood, don’t act like you’re getting out of a violation for wearing new shoes on trail. You’re going to pour beer in your own shoes for us, and we’re going to watch you like the camwhore you are!

Alright, let’s take a break from how awful you people are and make some commendations.

  • First up, we have to commend Head Injury for bringing us the new 2020 Pandemic Chic look! Don’t worry, no one else notices it’s the exact same as 2019’s Robbing a Liquor Store Panache!
  • We have to commend Ready Player None for that dystopian German Dungeon unicorn look, Poon Apple Juice for that KEY-LIGHTFUL unicorn onesie, as well as Headshart for that “I have daddy issues” look.
  • Speaking of good looking, we have to commend F.A.R.T. for that sick Corona unicorn head. That looks amazing! It’s certainly a more innovative and fun way to get brown-bagged by Jigglytits. At least now you have a face they want to sit on!

ON-“Why do I always have a dildo on my face?“-ON

Close Encounters of the Turd Kind

WHEN: April 2, 2020

WHERE: Your House




Buckle up, butternuts, it’s time for your (virtual) scribe report! It’s our first hash having a (virtual) circle during the COVID-19 outbreak/global pandemic and economic crisis/excuse to masturbate during work hours without consequence! April showers bring May flowers, and as a result we all get a little wet. Expect it was perfectly nice out, so being on theme was pointless. Check out the Google Photos Album to see how crazy we all got while social distancing before circling up via Zoom.

Lots of people did dumb stuff on trail and throughout the week of quarantine, and they got called out for it. It’s time for some good old fashioned VIOLATIONS!

  • Special Head Kid is being violated for checking in from A Monument to Jesus. Pleeeeeease… No amount of holy water showers will wash away your sins.
  • Blow Me Closer Tiny Dancer is being violated for checking in from the shower. We all know that even when your body is clean, your mind is dirty. In a similar vein…
  • Deep Anal Horizon is also being violated for checking in from the shower, as well as committing a serious fashion faux pas. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to wear a poncho AND carry an umbrella after St. Patrick’s Day? Besides, that’s not what we mean when we say “wear protection.”
  • Poon Apple Juice is being violated for hosting a hard seltzer-tasting March Madness-style tournament at her apartment instead of social distancing. Truly this is how Corona Hard Seltzer will infect us all…
  • Quantum Whizzics… We appreciate your precautions, but just because we’re in the middle of a global pandemic doesn’t mean we aren’t going to violate you for auto-hashing!
  • Close Encounters of the Turd Kind is being violated for being naked when the plumber arrived to unclog his bathroom sink. That’s NOT what he meant by snaking a drain!
  • Schrodinger’s Cock got violated for his man bun. We don’t care how long it’s been since you’ve had a haircut, you can’t fall to the Dark Side!


  • Everyone who hasn’t taken a shower in the past 24 hours!
  • Everyone who didn’t wear their hash necklace!
  • Everyone who has had liquor delivered to their house!
  • Everyone who lives with their significant other, because, and I quote: “y’all suck!”

It wasn’t all bad though, there were a few cummendations going around:

  • Collitoral Damage was cummended for giving everyone at the pre-lube Zoom a wonderful view of her ass
  • The GMs were cummended for being great captains of the Ark of EWH3 and making it seem like there’s only a little April shower, when in reality the entire world is being metaphorically flooded!

On-“How Does Zoom Work?”-On

Close Encounters of the Turd Kind

When: February 27, 2020
Where: Francis Scott Key Park, Georgetown (Rosslyn Metro)
Hares: Throbbin’ Hood, Mourning Wood, Jigglytits, Poon Tang Clan
Virgins: Several, all decisively half-minded

So there we were, holy hellfire shit, all set to celebrate RuPaul’s return on NOT a hashing night and the no-doubt-imminent return of the Drag Race stans to our hashy fold… but DC’s winter decided to give us our toughest challenge yet (at least in 2020), and as a result we learned who the most dedicated queens were as we met/huddled/penguined at Francis Scott Key Memorial Park near Georgetown.

The anthem was an OG drag anthem. It’s in the cannon.

Deep Anal Horizon joined hares Mourning Wood and Throbbin’ Hood in bravely donning his finest, flowiest attire for the trail, while the rest of pack’s no-doubt-excellent drag attempts were buried under layers of warm clothing… right guys?


After a short and rousing starting circle in which the hare representative told us several lies and at least one truth and Joe’s tongue got stuck to a metal pole, pack dodged e x p e n s i v e traffic and headed north. On the zig-zaggy way to beer check, pack encountered Cum Dumpling‘s Sink Hole, performed a scenic tour of Georgetown’s finest dead-end alleys, were foiled by a Back Check in the middle of a wildly bougie housing area, and were elaborately and roundaboutly foiled by a check that was hiding inside a s p o o k y park. (Nobody wants to break a heel, I get it.)

Opt out.

Beer check was longer than pack liked and much shorter than sweep hare would have liked, but after pouring several down our throats in honor of DC’s Female Union Band Society, pack quickly bounded away and headed back down the hill. After a much more straightforward, less check-y, and less getting lost-y second trail half, we circled up under Francis Scott Key’s memorial bridge (so fancy) and had a chilly, melodic conversation about what we thought of the hares.

Praise the Lawd it’s over.

Highlights from circle included:

  • Commemorating Tuck Tuck Deuce‘s 369th run with Everyday is Wednesday as we dined like queens on cold fries ‘n’ apple pies
  • A moment of silence in memory of Slumcock Anywhere, a former EW hasher who recently heard G’s whistle and followed trail on-up
  • Special Head Kid and Heaven’s Gape were commended for their ability to always be on the wrong side of the fence
  • While on trail, your humble scribe sighted a beautiful convertible on trail with the license plate “OH LA LA.” When polling the crowd about which hasher seemed most likely to operate such an ostentatious vehicle, the answer was unanimously 9021Ho.

Thus feted, we quickly scooted our cold yet elegant butts over to Church, where we all took off our stilettos to battle our way to the bar through a veritable sea of suits, the likes of which the world has not seen (since the last RNC convention probably).

Move ur suited asses away from my alcohol source, ladies.

On-dibs on next drag trail during higher temps-on,


When: Thursday, February 13th, 2020

Where: Pentagon City Metro (Blue/Yellow Line)

Hares: Tik Tok It’s Dick o’Clock, #SquadHoles, Close Encounters of the Turk Kind, and Ready Player None

Virgins: Just David, Just Ronnie, Just Sammy, and Just Josh

Visitors and Long Time No See-ums: Lickthiologist, Princess Jizzman, Moremen, Mooseknuckles, Around the World in 80 Lays, Tuneless, Bulletproof Boobs, and two others who said their names too fast both times, Drunken someone and Turkey something.

On After: Freddie’s

On February 14th, 270 A.D., a Roman priest was executed. This led to the cultural appropriation of a pagan fertility festival that we now associate with Hallmark and Trojan. Thank you St. Valentine!

This week’s trail was great for lovers, singles, and basically anyone who likes getting deeeeeep inside some holes. The trail winded through the maze-like Crystal City underground and other Tunnels of Love in the area.

However, no trail is complete without hashers doing dumb things. Here’s a recap of those shenanigans:

Individual Violations:

  • Quid Pro Blow and Just Kirsten were wearing red on top but green on bottom. This means their hearts are taken, but their asses are community property!
  • Cocktease Falcon for not once, not twice, but THREE times pulling a Just Kirsten and walking in front of a moving vehicle at start.
  • NSA was overheard complaining about shiggy when we ran through an area with some mud and small puddles. Just because this is the stoplight trail doesn’t mean we can’t go off-roading. He needs to shave his head if he wants to be Mr. Clean.
  • Mooseknuckles and MoreMen are visiting us from Beijing. China thinks they weaponized a virus to send to the US with these two. In reality, they just returned with the same STDs we gave them before they left!
  • Tuneless and Bulletproof Boobs are visiting us from Lagos, Nigeria. These Nigerian scammers have come on Valentines Day, not to steal our money, but to steal our hearts. Jokes on you though, my heart’s been dead for years.
  • The Walkers almost lost Rail Mary and Cheech and Dong in Lush when they went into the mall. Look, it’s a soap store, not a self-description!
  • Around the World in 80 Lays and MoreMen, who haven’t been here in so long, they were told on after was at the usual place but couldn’t find the hole to get to the wet place.
  • Atari 6900 encouraged Stain Gretzky to not go down further…
  • COMMENDATION: Stain Gretzky for being better at going down the second time…

Group Violations:

  • All the runners who took the elevator. Tuck is the only one who gets away with.
  • All people who walked through the shot check.
  • Just Josh and all the men wearing blue: Even though this was a stoplight trail, thank you letting us know about your relationship status: blue balls!
  • COMMENDATION: The Hares, for designing this trail just like Valentine’s Days throughout our lives! Starting with the first Valentine’s Day date in Middle school where mom has to drop you off at the mall; that awkward one where he has to plow down the mud path; to the inevitable breakdown and breakup at Costco; finally ending up miserable and alone shooting heroin by the train tracks!


When: Thursday, January 23rd, 2020

Where: Virginia Square Metro (Orange/Silver Line)

Hares: Poon-Apple Juice, Mourning Wood, Atari 6900, #SquadHoles, Poon Tang Clan, and Urine All The Right Places

Virgin: Just Chris

Visitor: Urine All The Right Places

Long-Time No-Seeum: Amerigo Vespoogi

On-After: First Down

It was a cold night in Virginia as the beautiful Princess Atari 6900 arrived from the northern kingdom in a seductive, icy blue dress. Just like our toes, the metro was Frozen, so a late start was inevitable as Hashers used every means available to get to start.

Frozen Disney GIF


THE HARES had quite a night, according to our Hashers!

  • VIOLATION: THE HARES for making too many Just and Tit Checks when there are only two Justs and four tits on trail tonight. The design choices of this trail were simply… UN-JUST-FIED!
  • COMMENDATION: Thank you Atari 6900 for joining us all the way from Utah tonight. We loved seeing your sexy magical Mormon underwear beneath your costume.

  • VIOLATION: Atari 6900 can’t navigate for shit. He broke the trail map on his phone, and he sent us down the wrong way into a dark alley. The cold might not bother you, but fuck you, it bothers us.
  • COMMENDATION: Quid Pro Blow had his GM first Encounter with a cop, successfully flirting with the armed officer until he left us alone.

The rest of the Hashers were not spared from themselves either. Violations include:

  • COMMENDATION: Urine All the Right Places for being… in all the right urine places. He witnessed Atari 6900 in his Elsa costume pissing on trail. He really Let It Go. A muggle was on their back porch watching him piss too, the muggle saw that Atari saw him, and he had to stop pissing mid stream.
  • Just Kirsten, in reference to her beer mug, claimed that she brings her tiny D cup and leaves the big D at home. She needs to bring the BIG D because we all want to see it.
  • Shetland Blowme, because it is pleasurable to violate himself

And of course, multiple social violations for the unorthodox evening.

  • SOCIAL VIOLATION: Anyone who took an Uber to trail and didn’t bring any virgins or trail treasure.
  • SOCIAL VIOLATION: Everyone who tried to slowly walk away like nothing was wrong with the police showed up at beer check. You aren’t sneaky!

Disney Animation GIF by Walt Disney Studios


Close Encounters of the Turd Kind

Splish splash, my despondent coyotes! On the particular week in question your scribes were boldly leading and boldly bringing up the rear, so this piece of trash is entirely dependent on hearsay. Which is to say: if important details are missing, it’s your fault.

When: January 16 [a Thursday]
Where: Shaw/Howard University Metro
Hares: Twater Boarding, Tacos On A Bridge, They Blow Up So Fast, Seizures Phallus, Jigglytits [that’s me!], Tick Tock it’s Dick O’Clock, and Close Encounters of the Turd Kind [also me, but different]
Virgins: None [it’s called making friends, guys, try it sometime]
Visitors: Hoover McSuck-n-fuck from Boston, You’re A Pee’n Swallow from… here, apparently
On-After: Town Tavern

On this particular Thursday the RAs were particularly effective at their jobs, or would have been if their jobs had been making the weather nose-hair-freezingly cold. Tacos on a Bridge took shelter in the &pizza to collect hash cash while the rest of pack huddled in Scrotal Recall’s leeward side and waited for climate change, looking like a cargo cult formed from the wreckage of a shipment of running gear.

Just before we were all about to imminently freeze to death, except those smarties who prelubed, opening circle finally began. We met our visitors (Hoover McSuck-n-fuck of Boston, You’re A Peen’n Swallow from Everyday is Wednesday) and bemoaned the lack of fresh virgin blood on our frozen hearts. Then some asshole hare representative was called into circle, where they whispered us beautiful stories about something called the Kegland where the kegs never run dry and the weather never drops below 50, demonstrated an esoteric ritual called “salmoning” which would be key to our journey, and then sang us the traveling-song of their people, which had something to do with “chicken,” “power,” and “teams.”


Thus blessed, off we set in search of the Kegland!

First we encountered the horrors of the Drivers and their Seven-Way Intersection.

Then a mythical Roundabout stymied the pack with its blasphemous suggestion that once, long ago, humans did not use traffic lights, and maybe followed actual marks instead of just lemming-ing through intersections.

After of that, wonder of wonders, we caught wind of a Shot Check. But alas, our romance was short-lived, as we were rapidly set upon by strippers from all sides and were forced to flee towards the Pumping Station from which blessed liquid flows.

heckin strippers.

me, a sweeper, watching the shot check run off like

The next bit was a scenic tour of the McMillan Reservoir. Legend has it there was a magical Fish Hook once residing in these parts, although it hasn’t been seen in many a year and certainly wasn’t sighted on this trail.

After terrifying us with a whole lot of cold liquid that no one was interested in [c’mon we’ve all had those hookups], the hares built us some character by depositing Scrotal Recall in a frigid parking lot, but we forgave them when Brew Crew plied us with the blessed waters of life [also cold, but with more interest]. It was also at this site that we received word of a GREAT OCCURRENCE:

oh boy oh boy oh boy

Apparently not long after trail began, Just Kirsten was talking Some Bullshit in which she flipped her hair, smiled cheekily, and crowed, “Who’s up for some Frogger?!” before gaily darting off to play in traffic, confident in her immortality. However, this Bullshit was called not long after when Just Kirsten failed to adequately grant Safety its appropriate due in the hashing pantheon, and as Just Kirsten was not Being Very Careful in crossing the street a rogue Car decided to closely investigate her knees without consent. As the story goes, our heroine channeled a different video game and hardcore parkour’d over the hood of the car, landing with as much elegance as one can channel after one has been hit by a car. By the grace of G, Just Kirsten emerged with only her pride injured and does not have to repeat the experience at least until naming circle.

make lemonade.

Our path then bobbed and weaved past stadiums and swimming pools, among the hallowed dorms of Howard, and cascaded down the dry fountains of Meridian Hill Park to another glorious Shot Check, which had collected, like the rain, into kind of a gross green color at the base of the park. Then we followed some hipster’s calf tattoo back up the hill and into the sweet embrace of TOWN TAVERN [Kegland, same thing].

There, we told the hares just what we thought of their frozen hill climb, celebrated Doppelbanger’s birthday, and apparently all ended up taking our shirts off in a gallant, inspiring display of ungendered enthusiastic equity that lasted until way too damn late, but luckily I had work off that day, so all y’all suckers can go heck yourselves to heck.

Other violations included:

  • The Hares, for not being on theme: They were such horrible pirates, they charted a course INTO the wind for the entire trail.
  • The Hares, for being too on theme: They were such good pirates, they savagely sunk the hash’s morale by running them around the entire reservoir.
  • Son What the Fuck, a commendation: for talented handling of Scrotal Recall while Dude That Guy was merely seat candy. Son can clearly handle the big boys.
  • Son What the Fuck, for alcohol abuse, spilling the entire contents of the shot check in the van. If you liked it, then you should have put a lid on it.
  • It’s Not Cum It’s Ranch, for being premature: not only c*me wildly early but was also overheard lamenting how early he c*me. Where have we heard that one before?
  • Hoover McSuck’n’Fuck, for more alcohol abuse: however, his apology for the spill had already started before the cup fell out of his hand — his true violation was for being a goddamn liar, as he claims he’s from Boston, but clearly he’s full-blooded Canadian.
  • They Blow Up So Fast: for pulling a George W. Bush and unilaterally declaring a shot check on walkers’ trail. Now that’s some mismanagemental action I won’t be ashamed to say I supported decades later.
  • Close Encounters of the Turd Kind: for ruining the first shot check by bringing not just one stripper, but the whole damn strip club. One kink at a time, buddy.

You’re all welcome for the morning reminder you didn’t need of the trail you hopefully won’t remember.

On-may you someday possess as much money as Waterworld lost and may you use it to buy me a drink-on,

xoxo Jigglytits

When: Thursday, December 26, 2019

Where:  Greenbelt Metro (Green Line)

Hares:  Special Head Kid, What’s A Boner?, and Please Step Away From The Whores

Virgins:  Just Sarah & Just Masha

Visitors: Honorable Vaginal Discharge (Boston); Private Snowball (Florida Happy Hour H3); Jolly Green Jizzer (NYC H3)

On-After: PSA’s hot tub

It was a romp through the burbs with all your favorites: train tracks, strip malls, gratuitous tunnels, curious neighbors, and accidentally approaching a WMATA van bc all white vans look alike… and all the messed up shit y’all did:


  • Honorable Vaginal Discharge admitted to putting herself into the Witness Protection Program in Okinawa to avoid being bibbed.  Let’s hope Trash doesn’t know how to read!
  • A violation for our runners’ hares, Special Head Kid and What’s A Boner for laying a trail so short and boring they both ran it twice to get enough of a post-Christmas workout.
  • Gunna Probably Spew was showing off to Jolly Green Jizzer: the secret to his speed isn’t hard work and practice, it’s his racing stripes.  You know, that line of hair that goes all the way from his chin to his dick!
  • Atari 6900 was violated for being the worst Songmeister ever.  Upon finding a song check, he sang only the first four words of a song and still managed to fuck it up.
  • And finally, a massive violation to the absolute clown car of a walkers’ trail, since literally every person piled into PSA’s car and didn’t even pretend to go on trail.

No naming, but we had two lady virgins and no immaculate conception so I’ll call that a Christmas miracle.

On – I came back from Jersey for this?! – on,

Stain Gretzky

When: December 19
Where: DuPont Circle Metro
Hares: General Tso’s Dicken, Cheech and Dong, Colliteral Damage, Deetz Nuts, GeriatricMandering, Poon-apple Juice, Ready Player None, Schrödinger’s Cock, Son What the Fuck?!
Virgins: None (you sluts!!)
Visitors: Two from Beijing H3
On-After: Town Tavern

So there I was, dear reader, having definitely remembered that I was supposed to Stunt Scribe this trail and very definitely not running dangerously late (which I would never do) to start in the middle of scenic and deadly Dupont Circle for General Tso’s Dickens’ celebratory Onesie Birthday Trail. For the purposes of brevity I’ll speed through what was no doubt a glorious opening circle in which the hares were probably already drunk and sang us a painfully unharmonious rendition of Joe the Button-man, but the birthday meat and potatoes is that someone shouted ON OUT and we scattered in all directions in pursuit of trail.

Like a gallant gentleperson not running late I let the FRBs find the “correct” route in a southwesterly direction, where we immediately got even weirder looks than usual from passersby in our onesie regalia. The hares laid us an immediate sweet little false then took us on a scenic tour of all three feet of Duke Ellington Park. After dipping down toward L St and finding it decisively too bougee for our tastes, some half-mind extolled the virtues of Milwaukee Jesus Water and then half of pack promptly forgot the third rule of hashing and almost got run over by a bus (myself included).

At some point soon after that we located a school that most definitely had walls, and the school-aged under-30s were told to work our young muscles and go find trail at the promised “under-30 check.” The fact that only one other hasher went to find trail with me heralded my sudden discovery that EWH3 may no longer be home to the “hot young twentysomethings near you” that I similarly was promised when I began hashing [here]. But such nightmares were purged by the splashing waters of Rock Creek, which we avoided like the plague because one does not show up to EW to make one’s feet moist in 30-degree weather. (Thursday is a hashing day, not a frostbite day.) It was here where many of my DFL-running compatriots were reminded that Running is Hard and Why Do We Do this and dropped significantly behind… or ahead… (My memory of my position relative to pack may have been impeded by the imminent arrival of a Shot Check, which tasted like the thousand-year-egg version of a White Claw. I blame Colliteral Damage, who made the bold claim that it was “gin and tonic.”)

Not long after that was a beer check in a cul-de-sac, aka the closest the millennials of EWH3 will come to tasting suburban life. It was there that I learned Doppelbanger struggles to remember the words for gloves despite remembering that Sioux Falls sucks, two visitors made absurd Breitbart-level claims that Beijing’s hash is superior, and Tuck and GFA had their own Ornery Old Man circle. (Reader, I was not invited. Maybe some day. Yikes.)

When asked to describe the status of her alcohol consumption, the General told me that she did not know any songs about drinking. Someone jogged her memory: “What about the song that goes ‘I’ve been drinking, I’ve been drinking?” to which General responded “YES THAT ONE.”

The remainder of trail was short and blurry, much like a bad night at Dan’s. Somewhere along the way a shot check showed us which of the older hash members have been practicing getting down on their knees, and Son What the Fuck and your humble scribe accidentally flirted with a carful of young-looking humans who were really curious to know what we were doing standing around with beverages in such a tiny traffic triangle with such a sketchy-looking human as Deetz. We responded that they must be very fun considering they had fit ten people into a vehicle the size of a SmartCar and they should come find us when they reached legal beverage consumption age before quickly running off to play in traffic. I could tell when we rapidly entered AdMo because the skeptical side-eyes of passersby turned into cheers, and on the wings of such admiration we beat Scrotal Recall to our final destination. Inevitably, as one does, we all gathered at Town to tell the hares how much we hated their trail.

In a brief, drunk reckoning of circle, we:
– Found out that our hares General Tso’s Dicken, Cheech and Dong, Colliteral Damage, Deetz Nuts, GeriatricMandering, Poon-apple Juice, Ready Player None, Schrödinger’s Cock, and Son What the Fuck keep a number of titillating things under their onesies, except several of them, who keep nothing under their onesies;
– Congratulated General Tso’s Dickens for surviving another lap around the sun. She initially failed to remember any other songs about drinking to describe her current mood, then after consulting her phone finally settled on “the one about shots. You know, it goes ‘shots shots shots'”;
– Asked our visitors if they were unzipped or uncut and determined that they were miraculously all single;
– Informed Beijing visitor Molotov Cock that he does not have to look like Daniel Craig in order to visit DC because only some of us are spooks, but we appreciate his dedication to the theme;
– Observed that Just Arthur‘s red shorts were exceptionally appropriate for a Miami Beach hash and possibly less so for a DC winter hash;
– Violated those whose age was less than the temperature outside (or something like that, you all got what I meant);
– Violated anyone who had allowed education to get in the way of their hashing over the last several months and was now taking a “winter” “break,” including Six From Behind and Gonna Probably Spew;
– Made some kind of joke about doctors’ examinations and the Pony Express (look I don’t made the jokes I just record the jokes);
– And sold four necklaces to George Stuffedanoctopus in the hopes that he will more slowly distribute them across the floors of hash bars in the future.

On-cuddliest trail of the year-on,

Stunt #Squadholes, aka Jigglytits