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

When: Thursday, December 12, 2019

Where:  Eastern Market Metro (Blue / Orange / Silver Line)

Hares:  Head Injury; Issues and Tissues, Rail Mary, Rosetta Bone, Special Red, and Unobtainium

Virgins:  Justs Dale, Ryan and Corey

Visitor:  some pudjam-curious harriettes from Hangover H3 – Justs Kiersten & Heather

On-After:  Trusty’s


  • Little Spermaid was having technical difficulties with her ugly sweater, repeatedly pressing her lazy right tit trying to figure out why it wasn’t turned on.  She also had her ass out on the street near the van at start. I know you can buy lots of things at Eastern Market but I’ve never seen a rump roast on sale there before!
  • Shamrock Your Cock was running late to trail in her very expensive shoes.  Mourning Wood showed himself in desperate need for some Queer Eye for the Hash Guy, mistaking Shamrock’s $500 shoes for crocs.  Go ‘head girl, Shamrock out with your crocs out.
  • Cum Dumpling was caught laying himself to rest on the Indian burial mounds at beer check.  I would violate him but he’s already gone. rip, fam
  • Just Dale just moved to DC and he’s really into cars and guns.  So, ya know, he must be packin’.
  • Woodsie ended up in circle again for wanted to make a suit out of Just Arthur’s skin.  BRO we seriously need to talk about your fashion choices.
  • And finally, I personally violated the hares for laying literally the boringest trail of the year that was so straightforward and not messed up that nobody submitted a single violation to me about it.

And in the humble hollow next to the dumpster and the train tracks we had a very solemn occasion and a Christmas miracle… a NAMING!!  Just Emily made herself come to the hash, but gets other people to make her come in the car on federal property.  She works for the Department of Defense, lost her virginity at Loyola in New Orleans and was thrilled she could tell her mom that she wouldn’t die a virgin.  She’d have a threesome with Captain America and Thor, of course, and I wrote something down about taping grapes to the wall. Sounds kinky. After a bunch of lackluster names, a champion rose to the top of the heap.  Henceforth and forevermore throughout the world of hashing, Just Emily shall be known as The Cocktease Falcon!

On – you ever had a BLT on a grilled cheese? it will change your LIFE – on,

Stain Gretzky

When: 11/21/19

Where: Rosslyn

Hares: #Squadholes, Tik Tok it’s Dik O’Clock, Heaven’s Gape, Quid Pro Blow

Virgins: Just Emily, Just Laura, Just Ryan, Just Ray, Just Marline, Just Cooper (woof), Just Ike (woof)

Visitors: One Trick Dick (Syracuse, NY), Rock Sucker (Kigali, Rwanda), Goat Throat (Boston, MA)

Long-Time No-Sees: Poople’s Mountain Majesty, Keebler Shelf

On-After: Continental

What up, my glip glops! Close Encounters of the Rick Kind here, we had a great time getting schwifty at the Council of Ricks Hash!

However, some of you were acting like total Jerrys out there, especially when it came to navigating space and time, so here are some violations in the form of Jerry Awards:  


– Tony Panda was almost late for trail and was overheard saying “Rick and Morty can travel through time, we can’t!” Real Ricks can travel through time and space, why didn’t you use your portal gun?

– Mourning Wood punched in last week’s coordinates for Brew Crew. We almost didn’t get velocitinis at Beer Check. Did Evil Rick hack your portal gun, or have you been hanging out with Doofus Rick too much?

– Heaven’s Gape needed three Mortys to help him navigate the walkers trail.

– One of you Jerrys got confused and asked a homeless person for a shot, thinking it was a shot check.

– Jiggly Tits was called out for needing help traversing a spherical art installation. At least we know that when it comes to their commitment to hash shenanigans, they really goes BALLS DEEP!

– One of you crazy Summers was seen pole dancing on a pirate ship in the park. If she keeps up that booty shaking, that won’t be the ONLY stiff mast around here HIYOOOO!

– Group violation: everyone who didn’t properly follow trail and go down the slide in the park. Real Ricks don’t skip out on adventure!

And finally, Geriatric Mandering, for literally having a name with Jerry in it – my daughter is too good for you Jerry, you’re worthless! I’M the master of this household!* 

*Seasons 1-3 only

Alright, that’s all for this week I’m gonna go take a shit.


When: Thursday, October 31, 2019

Where:  NoMA Gallaudet Metro (Red Line)

Hares:  Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock, Colliteral Damage, Vladimir’s Fruitin’, Can’t Find Pussy in a Haystac

Virgins & Visitors: literally none, more Twinkle Juice for me!!!

On-After:  Last Call (which is delightfully divey)


  • Our intrepid alpha hare Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock was egged by teenagers upon arriving to beer check.  There was some disagreement about the beer check location but I think it was an eggscellent choice.  I heard some of the eggs didn’t break upon impact which sounds eggscruciating. Frankly the nerve of those mean kids was just eggstraordinary!
  • Meanwhile, Deetz Nuts was getting the ladies on their knees… to suck out of his titties!  Seriously considering changing his name to Deetz Teetz or Teetz Nutz.  I think the left one was tastier, in my humble scribe opinion.
  • Twinkle remarked that he was covered in beer and feeling a little yeasty.  Is that why the TJ on the table at end circle was so chunky?? *gags* 
  • The hares ran the whole pack through my back alley and didn’t come around front to say hi to my pussy. Rude.
  • This Dirty Banana showed up to trail in an apeeling costume (a WIE 2019 vintage) only to find that Twinkle wore the same outfit as me!  Honestly this whole trail is CANCELLED and everyone should go home and let me drink the rest of the TJ myself.

No naming as the skies were literally about to burst open upon us and we all scuttled off to Last Call like that rat Pinocchi-ho kicked last time we were in NoMA.

On – no one needs to know that my Friday “mental health day” was for my TJ hangover – on,

Stain Gretzky

When: Thursday, October 17, 2019

Where:  Tenleytown Metro (Red Line)

Hares:  Colliteral Damage, GeriatricMandering, Deathly Swallows, Rail Mary, All Flash No Drive, Rosetta Bone, Tacos On A Bridge

Virgins:  Just Elsa & Just Stephanie

Visitor:  Dr. Mouthful of Clam (he doesn’t go here anymore!) & Lieutenant Dan The Swing Bang Man (Okinawa!)

On-After:  Tenley Bar and Grill


  • Just Arthur was persecuted for being a vessel thief!  As my esteemed co-scribe threatened him – if you mess with the squad, you get the holes.
  • Speaking of #SquadHoles, that mofo was wearing a raceist Baltimore Running Festival shirt.
  • Just Jessie collided with a police officer on a bicycle.  I mean I know we all wanna bang strippers but ok maybe that’s taking it a little far.
  • The Cumburglar said that he doesn’t like jell-O shots because it feels like 3 blow jobs in his mouth.  I am concerned that he both 1) failed sex ed as a child and 2) is going to get arthiritis in his jaw like Kobayshi, the hot dog eating champion.
  • Tragic Carpet Ride tried to pay his hash cash with a roll of quarters.  I was just relieved that for once he was trying to give someone a roll of actual currency and not his penis.
  • Rail Mary tried to get all of the walkers lost by navigating them away from the shot check.  Cause honestly the only thing scarier than running this trail is having to run it again…

At some point later, which may or may not have been the same day, or may or may not have been at MM Recruitment HH at Town Tavern we had a very solemn occasion… a naming!!!  Recounted here below by #SquadHoles:

While many rejoiced at the idea of helping out the hash for another year… a plot was afoot to rename an unbaptized Just Jessie! After many of your fellow hashers were done drinking their fill and signing up to help out our kennel in various ways, the opportunity for a solemn occasion arose and we got to learn more about Just Jessie, dogmom to my favorite beer bitch, Just Bodhi. While the idea of her falling asleep on every surface of the bar, various hash events and an alleged college exam floor mid test played into many of the name suggestions like Sleepy Swallows and Goodnight Poon. Her tales of being a road promoter for various bands ultimately led to a story about Ke$ha being, “voluntold” to remove the bottle jack from her tummy and proceed onstage. Just Jessie accomplished her task and after 7 minutes in Ke$ha the show went on. But like all good things it was time to name this betch! Like the famous Ke$ha song and one of Stain Gretzky’s favorite sayings… her name had to be Tik Tok it’s Dik O’Clock.


Stain Gretzky