When: Thursday, March 14, 2019

Where:  Dupont Circle Metro (Red Line)

Hares:  Poon-apple Juice, Throbbin’ Hood, Mourning Wood, General Tso’s Dicken, Schrodinger’s Micropenis

Virgins:  Just Patrick, Just John, Just Elliot, Just Fernando, Just Catherine, Just Joaquin, Just Marissa, Just Julia

Visitor:  Virgin Mobile (Jolly Roger H3), Tits for Tots (Kampala, but formerly of EWH3!)

On-After:  Recessions

It was a gorgeous night in DC and the weather brought out so many fair-weather hashers the pack was positively engorged.  #SquadHoles said it was the biggest he’d ever seen.  Speaking of things I saw on trail…

Violations!!!

  • Our wonderful virgins Just Marissa & Just Julia shared in opening circle that a “Historical Bar Dude” from 8 months ago made them cum.  Props to him for being able to make ladies cum 8 months after the fact, and also to them for being cold blooded bitches and not remembering the name of someone who made both of them cum.
  • The hares were violated for spending too much time watching American Pie and not planning trail.  They literally fucked up pi… on pi day… on a pi trail.  If I wanted to get fucked by a pie, I’d just wander around the bakery section of the Unsafeway.
  • Shout out to Texas Hold Him who responded to my complaint that the hares fucked up pi by four digits in by clarifying that to him it’s not fucking unless you’re *at least* four digits in.
  • Cum Peg Me got so deep into his exploration of Asian culture that he came out Mexican?  (It’s a visual joke, he was wearing a serape.)  Also, his several month vacation on the other side of the world wasn’t enough to scrub the DC all the way out of him because I caught him not once, not once, but three times networking for a job on trail.  If I have to hear the phrase “comms director” one more time…
  • SchroCo was busted for naming his dick Google – I literally caught the man shouting at his own crotch “Hey Google, what temperature is it outside?” but despite being skimpily dressed like a sad Dobby cosplay I still couldn’t find it.  Was anybody else feeling lucky?  However, SchroCo should clearly name his junk Uber.  Everybody gets a ride, even though it’s only 3.14 stars…
  • And finally, for all you illiterate philistines who didn’t appreciate my In The Night Kitchen joke about Throbbin’ Hood’s gaping bathrope and missing toque, read a goddamn book.
get it now??

No naming, but plenty of Wawa got stuffed in the ole pie hole if ya know what I mean…

On – 69 degrees in March!! – on,

Stain Gretzky

When: Thursday, March 15, 2019

Where:  Francis Scott Key Park, Rosslyn Metro (Orange / Blue / Silver Line)

Hares:  PIO, Brokeback Mama, COXXX On Demand, Seizure’s Phallus, and Sally The Jizz Hound

Virgins:  none, they all froze

Visitors:  Three Amigos from OTH (which is Pudjam, u guys)

  • Radioactive Cum Swallower
  • Genghis Anus
  • Abuela Mastabata

On-After:  Mr. Smith’s (ew)

It was cold as fuck that night and I think the hash’s humor well pretty much froze over, so not much to offer here…

Violations

  • Just Dexter The Dog had to be carried up the second half of the Exorcist stairs.  What a bitch.
  • The hares broke Lent tradition and instead of laying a fishy trail it was a full-on sausage fest.
  • #SquadHoles thought that this trail through a college campus was really awesome but it left his knees really sad.  I hear ya buddy, my knees hadn’t felt that bad since the last time I was on a college campus.
  • And I would be remiss if I did not draw attention to the fact that Throbbin’ Hood thought Abuela Mastabata was Maybe It’s Gaybelline.

Enough of that shit, we had a very solemn occasion on this frigid night…… A NAMING!!!!

Meet Just Alex, he works for the government and has three degrees, which explains why he is a triple bottom engineer.  He’s from West Philly and ended up on the stage because he sucks at sports.  He’s masturbated to completion while driving a car and shit himself at work after a long bike commute.  He got a boner in math class and the worst thing he’s ever put up his butt was a butt plug 3 sizes too big.  After it was clearly established that we were going with a butt name, suggestions like Eyes Bigger Than My Anus and Department of the Posterior were floated (and my personal favorite, Scrooge McButt), but given his love of engineering and straight up rearing, henceforth and forevermore throughout the world of hashing, Just Alex shall be known as Deep Anal Hoerizon.

On – boots n shats n boots n shats – on,

Stain Gretzky

When: Valentine’s Day, Thursday, February 14, 2019

Where:  Georgia Ave / Petworth Metro (Green / Yellow Line)

Hares:  Melabonin, Basement Boy Toy, Red Dong, Zombie, Just Kevin and Just Ez, Just Surak, and maybe a mystery hare! 

Virgins:  Justs Mia, Chelsea, Valdilia, Aaron

Visitor:  B.D.S.Amateur from Beijing H3

On-After:  Don Juan’s Restaurant

Y’all, I thought this was going to be a Valentine’s Day Trail but it was more like a February 15th aka Discount Chocolate Day Trail that was technically still in theme but was also too little too late, totally in shambles, and definitely resulted in me eating cheese in the dark on the floor in my kitchen.  Shout out to SchroCo for sharing his 200th Run Fireball.

Violations, and literally every single one is about how shitty trail was:

  • Melabonin, birthday girl and alpha hare extraordinare, generously allowed the entire pack to use Basement Boy Toys’ rear entrance halfway through trail.
  • I felt personally victimized by the lack of Valentine’s gifts left for me in the woods while I was alone going full Blair Witch Project with virgin Just Mia.  I didn’t need jewelry, lingerie, chocolates or any of that from the hares, all this girl needed was some flours.
  • Tonight’s trail definitely felt like a surprise orgy hosted by the hares.  We were all in the dark together and I didn’t really know where I was going or what was happening but I was definitely getting fucked.
  • Tonight’s trail felt less like a Valentine’s Day Trail and more like a David’s Bridal Super Black Friday Sale.  Every bitch for themselves and so help me god if you get in my way.
  • Tonight’s trail felt like one of those variety sampler boxes of candy where you just bite into them with blind trust and you’re just like please god please god no nuts.
  • And most important, hashy birthday, fuck you, to Melabonin!

Also, no naming, we were already inside the bar, and OMG DID YOU SIGN UP FOR WIE YET????

On – cheese is my Valentine – on,

Stain Gretzky

EWH3 #1108 The Groundhog (Birth)day trail

When: 1/31

Where:  Dupont Circle, Red

Hares:  Mourning wood, quid pro blow, heaven’s gape, colliteral damage, Throbbin hood

Virgins:  Just Nobody, or I didn’t hear them

Visitors:  Cum in my brum

On-After:  Froggy Bottom, which was 20% better than everywhere else, they told us so right on the tab

 

It was a night of extra layers and fast circles. Which also means short trash. It’s definitely not because I’m bad at these… Nope. Not at all. We moved quickly from Dupont to Georgetown because we were all as frozen

Violations

Cum in my brum for taking 2 torches to the face and we all know that’s slang for blowing a fire crotch

 

Just Emily because she got taken by her feels for Pterodactyl porn

 

Chaffed and confused for his obsession with Obama drone dildo strikes

 

Tuck tuck deuce for back seat driving walkers trail… he needs to take someones back seat in his back seat

 

Cumburglur for thinking end circle should have summer foliage year round… we don’t live in California Bro-dy

 

And finally we should all be commended for getting in and out of that circle before our toes fell off!

 

On – BRRRRRR – on,

#SquadHoles

When: Thursday, February 7, 2019

Where:  Shaw / Howard Metro (Green / Yellow Line)

Hares:  Atari 6900; Schrodinger’s Cock; The Cock Whisperer; Dude, That Guy; General Tso’s Dicken; Colliteral Damage

Virgins:  None, ya filthy sluts

Visitor:  A big ole sausage fest + a wayward Pudjam harriette:

  • Whore With No Name, from Arkansas
  • Born On Your Anus (B.O.Y. Anus), from Wichita Kansas
  • Just Josh, from Fort Lauderdale
  • Mighty Waters, from BAH3, but admittedly an edub virgin…. ok fine

On-After:  Satellite Room (note to self, how am I just realizing now that as shitty as this trail was even the ON-AFTER was on theme… damn)

I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that the night’s festivities began with a moment of silence to honor two hashers we lost this week: Wreath Around most recently of Chicago, an institution in the DC hashing community for many years, and Ghetto Inferno of Lehigh Valley, a friend to many in DC.  On-up to the big on-after in the sky, y’all.

(Btw, guys, holy fuck I did a thing in HTML to make this embedded GIF centered… GREAT GOOGLY MOOGLY I learned something in college!)

Now onto the mothership.  Violations:

  • It’s two weeks since my last Scribe appearance, and here I am in circle again.  I look around, here’s Blow Me Closer Tiny Dancer as GM again.  I look to my left, here’s Poon-apple Juice as RA again.  I look to my right, here’s Atari 6900 as the alpha hare on a shitty trail where everyone got lost again.  So I have to ask myself… didn’t anybody tell you idiots Ground Hog Day was last week??
  • You Can’t Handle The Poop was on trail getting everyone guessing distances like he was running a carnival booth trying to figure out how far away that elementary school was… he had to make sure it was at least 500 feet.
  • Speaking of being problematic, thank god Maybe It’s Gaybelline got separated from us in Meridian Hill Park so we were only like third creepiest group there.
  • Shout out to the pack for nearly picking up Noodles the Dog as trail treasure.  He serves as a good reminder that the theme for WIE is Anything but Human.  Rego today, ya animals!
  • Poops, I Did It Again! And Sister Of A Downs were commended for nearly getting picked up as reverse trail treasure by a suspiciously curious and well-dressed older muggle during beer check.
  • On the other hand, Mambo # Hives was overhead comparing trail to her last hookup: it wasn’t the best laid, but it got the job done.
  • Speaking of sex, Schrodinger’s Cock tried real hard to get me to drink the rest of his beer at beer check so he could go “lay trail.”  I was like, oh sweetie, if I wanted you to pawn your backwashed sloppy seconds off on me I’d just go looking for Poon-apple Juice.  (Just kidding, I definitely drank that beer.)

And, boy oh boy the action doesn’t stop there – we had my first naming back as Scribe, and we sure had a good one!  While #SquadHoles was busy burning down a Chick-fil-a in Miami, we were graced with the presence of our very own real-life Florida Man.

Meet Just Josh, he used to live in DC, but now he’s busy being a low-key real estate mogul in Fort Lauderdale, ostensibly because the weather in DC isn’t nice.  (No shit, Sherlock!)  He was dressed in a full adidas track suit, looked like the bad guy from Karate Kid 2, and was remarkably cagey about his sexploits.  We did finally drag it out of him that he’s into skiing and… water sports.  Despite his love of EDM, audiobooks, JavaScript, the original recipe of Four Loko, and revenge pooping, we just couldn’t let the pee thing go.  He literally left in the middle of his own naming to pee.  And ya definitely don’t move to Florida unless you like Disney World.  So henceforth, and forevermore throughout the world of hashing, Just Josh will be known as When You Piss Upon A Star.

On – it was a good night to see Uranus – on,

Stain Gretzky

When: Thursday, January 24, 2019

Where:  Pentagon City Metro (Yellow & Blue Line)

Hares:  Atari 6900; Roll Over, Bitch!; Rosetta Bone; Trickle Down Sexonomics; Goldman Ballsachs and … no one as sweeper? (more on this later)

Virgins:  Just Jackie, Just Brian, Just Monica, Just Gian

Visitor:  I Make Cops Cum (Las Vegas, but now Sioux Falls South Dakota!)

Long time no see ’em: A classically drunk and belligerent Cum Brew Lay, from Africa!

On-After:  Freddie’s Beach Bar

Violations, in song form!

SchroCo was overhead saying that he can’t get the taste of “it” out of his mouth and that he was drinking to forget.  I agree, drinking is probably the only way you’re going to be able to forget that no one cares about what you think now that you’re not GM anymore.

Special Head Kid remarked that he prefers cold and dry over warm and wet.  Thanks to all those icy mud puddles on trail, my feet can now provide you a little of each.

This trail was fun, it felt like being back in high school with a group of friends, all working on a project together.  But it’s clear that the hares’ favorite class was choir… cuz it definitely wasn’t cartography.

Speaking of the hares, I have to say these wankers really fell down on the job… how are you going to have a song themed trail and a really dang famous song about sweeping and *still* manage not to have a sweeper on trail?

So the whole point of this trail was an excuse for the pack to go sing songs at Freddie’s for karaoke.  But if you’ve heard Atari 6900 on stage you know it’s more like kara-OH NO.

Blissfully for this frozen Scribe’s digits, there was no naming.  Everybody fucked off to the bar immediately and I went home to pet my demon spawn.

On – HOW DO…. GIF?! – on,

Stain Gretzky

RA: Poon-Apple Juice

Scribe: Blow Me Closer Tiny Dancer

GMs: Throbbin Hood and BMCTD (probably one whole sober GM between us… rounding up)

Oh yes, another special-edition brunch naming! And also a sacrifice of a name to the Old Ones. Your unholy eldritch GMs find this offering worthy, and in the devouring of the lost name we have become stronger.
Allow me to introduce our victim, Cody. (Apparently some muggles call him Brodie, but Rosetta Bone saddled him with the sobriquet Just Cody of the BroFactory upon first meeting, and he will probably die with that name anyway, so here we are challenging fate by trying to call him anything else.)
For fun, Cody is a fake-ass drama queen, also known as an actor. As Wait Wait’s roomie, he practices by acting like he enjoys Wait Wait’s percussive stylings and romantic… cacophony. Those may not be mutually exclusive. It’s a fun household: sometimes a lady calls on a gentleman at home and she leaves her unmentionables in the washroom (I’m assuming this is how Wait Wait would describe the situation), and the next morning no one asks whose they are or who brought their owner home for a game of hide-the-knickers. On the plus side, the boys do get to enjoy drunken spooning, and that is some wholesome pureness, so good on them.


Cody reports that he’s currently a 2 on Kinsey scale. Yay MMM threesomes!
On a more serious note, the man cannot be trusted around strippers or fast food, and has been asked to leave establishments providing each. On the same night.

Footage from the night in question. Someone was screaming, “McNugget rain!” Three guesses on who.

Let’s just say that on an evening in New Orleans that involved 3 bars, a strip club, a burlesque club, and a McDonald’s… he was kicked out twice, but police were only involved once. And that was for his drunken theft of some hapless muggle’s poultry-morsels. I wish that were a euphemism, but no. He literally purloined the nugs of an innocent.
While there were other tales involving flying ass-first through glass tables and being peed on by a Czech hobo, the scribe is too lazy to relay it all. A variety of unwholesome epithets were volunteered, but the successful candidate was Battledick’s clever call-out to both unidentifiable undies and felonious fast food filching:The Cumburglar. Please congratulate Battledick on her first hash baby!

On “You can still call him Cumby” on,
BMCTD

When: Thursday January 3rd, 2019.

Where: Gallery Place-Chinatown

Hares: Geriatric Mandering, General Tso’s Dicken, Cheech and Dong, A Midsemester Night’s Cream, and Head Injury

Visitors: On Your Knees, Roadkill, and Tie Me Up Trebek
Virgins: Justs Ben, Tony, and Jose
Long time no see: Mouthful of Clam

Everyone has some super tacky but outrageously comfortable snuggly thing that they’re attached to. Hideous sweats. Raggedy throws. Unmentionable snuggies. Tonight was the night to let those fuzz flags fly.

Battledick took a bit of a tumble on trail, scraping up her knees, and while some uncouth individuals might have suggested “There goes her love life” we prefer to think of her as taking a page from William the Conqueror’s (Domesday) book and laying claim to the earth beneath her, arising as a mighty queen. Further evidence for this interpretation was provided in the form of a personalized throne and the arrival of a scantily clad Goldman Ballsacks to serve as her charming cabana boy. There was some shirt swinging in the disrobement, and the queen was very pleased.

Deetz Nuts and Amerigo Vesploogi wore the same outfit and got into a bit of a CareBear Staredown… which became a stripping competition, and Deetz won by dint of demonstrating that he’d skipped any other layers and was just a sweaty man in a bear suit. That onesie probably needs to be burned now; dry cleaning can only go so far.

Violations:

When the Ball Drops was violated for stopping to pick up sidewalk chocolate and then discarding it again for insufficient nuts. According to her, if isn’t a little bit salty or a touch tangy, there’s no point in putting it in her mouth.
Third Girl Problems was unwise enough to bring his brand new kicks to trail.
And Fail Her Poon was spotted arriving on a Lyme bike. Dude, this is a federal shutdown, but we aren’t savages. Have some goddamn dignity.

And then, a joyous occasion!

The Naming of Just Franklyn

This software engineer learned his trade at the lovely Susquehanna University, which we definitely did not have to Google to find out is in Pennsylvania.

He enjoys crashing electric skateboards and cars, playing saxophones, and engaging in the kind of Frisbee that we don’t discuss at hash.
He also enjoys dead people, sometimes a little too much, as evidenced by not letting his grandma be the only stiff at her funeral.
His first blowjob was a bit spicy, but overall a B+ for sheer novelty.
The story that captured our imaginations the most, however, was the implausible tale of being kidnapped in a Craigslisting gone wrong out in San Francisco. It was decided that his kidnappers were definitely cultists, and there was some sort of “showing him the ropes” mentioned, but we tried not to dredge up too much of this trauma.


Instead, Deetz Nuts saddled him with the sobriquet Heaven’s Gape for being Bay area body-snatched. Please congratulate Deetz on his son.

On – I guess that makes me a grandma – on,

BMC Tiny Dancer

When: 6:45 PM Thursday, December 27th, 2018. Pack away at 7:15!

Where: Columbia Heights Metro follow marks to Columbia Heights Civic Plaza to start!

Hares: Atari 6900… and literally no one else?

Virgins: Just Calvin, Just Dave
Visitors: I Like Your Boobs, Getting Nailed… and some foreigners who literally no one could understand. Also it was cold and the phone wasn’t doing great.

Apparently our hash is a huge destination for the overseas wankers in town for the holidays. I assume that cumming along with us was some sort of anthropological experiment or last effort to really nuke their livers before a dry January.

Violations:

Immediately after being introduced, Getting Nailed tried to start Jesus Can’t Go Hashing.


Sit down, bro, we do not like you enough for a 20 min musical interlude.

General’s Farm Animal insisted he wasn’t compensating for anything, and the ridiculous size of his flask was purely related to his alcoholism.

Finally, The Cumburglar galloped into circle and regaled us with disturbingly re-enacted tale of something involving a horse? Or a whore? Or a houri? Or a sexy horse? Unclear, but there were sound effects.

We needed to be super quiet, and that wasn’t working, so we called it a stealth run on circle and headed over to Town Tavern to get rowdy.

 

On – swift and silent…ish – on,

BMC Tiny Dancer

When: Thursday December 20th, 2018.

Where: Cleveland Park

Hares: Tuck Tuck Deuce, Red Vag of Courage, Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock, Sorest Rump, and PIO

Visitor: Just Benjamin
Long time no see: More Men and Moose Knuckles!!!


Have you drunk so much that all of the Christmas movies are blending into some sort of unholy jingling amalgamation? Did you end up with a mental image of a bearded misanthrope who would terrorize children and wear funny hats? Perfect, because this trail was all about Tuck, our very own Krotchety Kringle.

The weather was a miserable, cold, Krampus-piss night, and it got everyone in the mood to shout at toddlers and Humbug aggressively.

Violations:

We started with a bunch of commendations! One went to General Tso’s Dicken! Deetz was complaining about General Tso’s pussy keeping him up allllll night (noice!). Deetz, however, was violated for being inadequate at soothing the insatiable beast.

As beer check was by McDonald’s, there were commendation for everyone who paused to shove something hot in their greedy cockholes!

Sphincter Shy was violated because someone finally managed to make that “not within 60 yards of a school” stick. Congrats on completing your last final, now leave the children be.


Stain Gretzky ran into a pole and then – after complaining – had a bunch of bushes coming at her. Meanwhile, Throbbin’s implement got some sort of splooge all over her. Let’s just say that it’s the wettest she’s been in a while.

And just to confuse everyone, we said something nice to the hares for strategically placing a tit check by some bare-breasted statuary. There is a bust joke in here that I’m too lazy to reach for.

And with no naming and a continuous frigid drizzle, we hied our sodden forms off to Guapo’s for restorative elixirs.

On – so much you can never unsee – on,

BMC Tiny Dancer