Hares: Assflac, Wank Like an Egyptian, I’m Lick James, Bitch!, Uncle Tom’s Stabbin’
Brew Crew: Fucks Up, Doc?, Buttfuck Norris
Virgins: Just Zach, Mike, Marishka, Lisa, Sean, Beth, Alex, Joshua, Jamie, Nate, Paul, Allison, Margaret, and too many more to keep track of
Visitor: Hand Job (Guam H3), The Saint (Brooklyn H3)
Analversaries: 69 runs–Pittsburgh Kneeler; 300 runs–Put It Out
Ononon: Millie & Al’s
The pack circled up at the entrance to Rock Creek Park, and off we went. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I was expecting a long, rough slog. Just look at who the hares are–all FRB’s, so of course they’re gonna take us on a death march. It wasn’t as tough as I had feared, though there was a really steep downhill bit of shiggy where you basically had to hold onto a fence to climb down. It was like horizontal rappelling, which I’ll have to try in some other context. Trail may not have been a complete death march, but, rather, the hares set out to confuse us into exhaustion. We got back to the start, but there was no beer van in sight. We did see true trail arrows telling us to repeat going in the same direction, and checks marked as the second one at the same corner as the first. Obviously the hares didn’t get the memo that the hash is not nearly smart enough to follow those directions and would likely end up repeating the first half of trail all over again. Fortunately, most of the pack was able to read, and managed to reach the beer check at the Spanish steps in Dupont Circle.
This trail was about 5.5 miles long. At least 5 of those miles were in the first half: the second “half” was a straight shot into the on-in, at least to anyone who’s ever hashed in Adams Morgan. The actual trail? Who knows, it probably went in a lot of circles first.
Shetland Blow Me has a new hairstyle that can only be describes as a “mullethawk,” or perhaps a “mohullet.” Both the punks and the rednecks from the 80s called, and they want their hair back.
Assflac tried to pass up the herpes he got from fisting PIO as poison ivy. Nice try, kid.
Chip ‘N’ Fails brought the biggest, butchest, most bearish virgin he could possibly find. Just like every other Thursday.
Whisky Business missed trail because he was at his school’s talent show, teaching his students how to “express themselves.” Those kids are all gonna turn out gayer than Christmas.
Cock-a-Doodle-do-Me said she didn’t want to get wet. Unlike every other Thursday.
Can’t Find Pussy in a Haystack also can’t find a way to take his race chip off his shoe.
Assflac brought the pack on one of his triathlon training runs without giving us bikes or floaties.
Tangled Up in Poo is giving up. Whooooooores Closing! is settling. Congrats, kids!
Slamda Slamda Slamda said she’d like to come once this spring. I’m sure there are lots of wankers who could help you with that.
The hares were dressed like Playboy Bunny rejects… and PIO always makes fun of the GW kids for wearing jorts.
Cum Dumpling claims that not only is he prettier than Sarah Jessica Parker (true story), he’s also better than her at faking an orgasm.
Eats Street Meat and Chicken Phucker didn’t get enough on trail, so they ran off to have sex immediately after.
Poop Weiner’s back in town! That’s ALWAYS acceptable hash behavior.
Rear Protein Injection is the worst PhD ever: he admitted that he doesn’t know everything.
Wank Like An Egyptian called dibs on violating himself, even though it’s always better when someone else does it for you.
Violations from the Crowd:
Chicken Fukr said his cargo pants were PI repellent, despite the fact that we all know PIO’s attracted to anything that reminds him of ‘Nam.
Blows a Tranny failed to live up to his name: he saw an actual tranny on trail and didn’t blow her (him?).
RU-469 pretended not to be a hare, that’s how shitty the trail was.
Just Liz complained about putting her hand in mud. She would’ve complained more if she’d known it wasn’t mud.
Tits for Tots and RU-469 both went to Asia recently and came back looking strangely satiated. How do you say “MSG” in Swedish, anyway?
Hungry Hungry Homo got some road head but didn’t come.
That’s because Cocky didn’t follow through.
Assflac showed up at the hash looking like he got raped by the Under Armour Fairy.
Whisky Business needs Child Protective Services to take him away from PIO.
Hungry Hungry Homo, Jason Mraz called, he wants his hat back.
Wax On, Whacks Off was so lazy, he got virgins to carry his dog for him.
Roll Over, Bitch! was complaining about circle, saying, “Back when I was songmeister…” Everyone get off his lawn!
Whisky Business said there was too much beer in the down-down cups. Lightweight.
I’m Lick James, Bitch! enthusiastically dug into the ice after Assflac sat on it, because he didn’t get enough STDs on trail.
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Cock has a problem with Pittsburgh Kneeler wearing lace underwear to the hash. You’re doing it wrong.
Then it was time for a very regular occasion, a NAMING!
Just Robin is from South Carolina and went to Savannah College of Art and Design. She is now an oil painter and art teacher to 1st and 3rd graders. When asked what her favorite sexual position is, she replied, “Depends,” AND her porn collection has a lot of golden showers involved. Make of that what you will, folks. Just Robin likes to watch porn with guys and then pee all over them, or maybe vice versa. The meanest thing she’s ever done was to beat a guy up with a shoe when she was 12. She lost her virginity when she was 16. Just Robin used to play rugby for a team called The Shamrocks, and she’s now a rugby official. She once passed out while having sex, and the guy finished all over her face. She spits, shaves into a landing strip, and likes the cock. Finally, Just Robin’s favorite Disney movie is The Jungle Book.
Naming suggestions (that didn’t suck) were:
Out in Place On my Face
DSW: Double Squirting Whiz
Baloo Me In The Face
Henceforth and forevermore, throughout the world of hashing (except Great Falls–fuck them!), Just Robin will be known as Baloo Me In The Face.
Is everybody happy? You bet your ass we are! We finished the beer, headed to Millie & Al’s, sang karaoke, and tried to get laid, even though those last two things are often mutually exclusive.
EWH3 #583 – Get Lucky on St Patrick’s Day, Mt Vernon Square/Convention Center
Hares: My Little Pony, And I’ll Push Back, Leggs Over Easy, Sphincter Shy
Brew Crew: Chicken Phucker, Homeland Insecurity
Virgins: Just Heather, Drew, Chris, Sarah, John, Alexis, Dani, and a whole hell of a lot more
Visitor: Just Mark (Honolulu H3), Just Leah (Kona Crab H3)
Analversaries: 17 runs–And I’ll Push Back, Forever Virgin, Trim Shady, If I Were a Stiff Man, Oops, I Blew Him AGain; 169 runs–CumSquat
Ononon: Kelly’s Irish Times
Top o’the mornin’ to ye! Erin go Bragh! After drinking our asses off on St Patrick’s Day, the pack donned their finest green running clothes and met up outside the convention center, to do it all again, with a run thrown in too. Much like most everyone’s day after St Patrick’s Day, I don’t remember all that much, because I was suffering from an epic case of jet lag, but here goes: Trail was shaped like a shamrock and featured the best urban shiggy DC has to offer. Before too long, we reached the first shot check and had shots of straight Jameson. Tastes like burning! We went around another leaf of the clover, passing an ice cream truck along the way. Some folks lingered at the ice cream truck a bit longer than necessary, but for once, I wasn’t one of them. After that, the pack reached the beer check on top of a parking deck.
After having the hair of the dog, we took off again. The second shot check was green jello shots, which, curiously, made me want to sing karaoke. A few shots later, we got to the on-in, in the same parking deck where we had beer check. We could’ve just stayed at beer check and kept drinking, but I guess the jello shots made the extra distance all worth it.
3-2-1 Fuck Off gave up on his vow of chastity and came back to EWH3.
Put It Out tried to relive his youth by playing beer pong at a party the weekend before.
Pittsburgh Kneeler was wearing a t-shirt that said, “This is what a Feminist Looks Like,” despite the fact that she wouldn’t know a feminist if one sat on her face.
Whisky Business complained that his last bike ride tore out his asshole. How the hell does he ride a bike? Without a seat?
Daffy Fuck brought a permission slip to come to the hash, signed by his wife. Someone’s pussy-whipped!
Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Cock went through puberty while conducting circle.
Mile High Snub said she was hoping for Asian Mix tonight. Now, I’ve had Asian Mix recently, and you really don’t want to go there.
Oops, I Blew Him Again tried to recruit guys to join her kickball team by promising blow jobs, but not from herself.
Fat Friends in Wet Places was a little too excited about that ice cream truck.
Just Mike refused to take a jello shot on the grounds that it’s not vegetarian, even though a few nights beforehand, he had eaten chicken, which didn’t even contain any alcohol.
The hares promised the walkers shots and didn’t deliver… teases.
Just Brian asked before the hash, “Was I supposed to shave my balls for this?” Yes. Yes, you were. When in doubt, always manscape.
Violations from the Crowd:
Tits for Tots complained about how Asian Mix made her sick. Now, Swedish meatballs, on the other hand….
The hares laid a trail devoid of shiggy.
A bunch of little girls saw I’m Lick James, Bitch! running by and started yelling, “Mayor Fenty! Mayor Fenty!” proving that even black people think they all look alike.
Whisky Business’s dad is disappointed that he turned out to be so gay, to which he responded, “I wasn’t always this way; that didn’t happen until college.”
Bow-Chick-a-Bow-Bow couldn’t find a urinal, so he peed on his tie.
I Manual Cunt is a media slut; he was one of a panel of “beer experts” in the Washington Post.
It’s Tony Panda’s birthday! Happy birthday, fuck you.
Put It Out said, “OMG,” and “LOL” on trail: Just because you text like a 12-year-old doesn’t mean you have to talk like one.
I Manual Cunt, the ’80s called and they want their Members’ Only jacket back.
Nobody Puts Labia in the Corner got a new job on the Hill, where his duties will no doubt involve hanging out under desks and doing things with cigars.
Tits for Tots tried to learn how to say “cougar” in Mandarin while she was on vacation, but learned to say it in Swedish instead.
Then the cops came, and we were just about to pack up, but by the luck of the Irish, they went away, so we had time for a very regular occasion, a NAMING!
Just Alex went to Johns Hopkins and does genetics research. Yup, another one. He loves the cock. No, really: his favorite farm animal is the rooster. The meanest thing he’s ever done was to throw a cell phone at another guy’s balls. He lost his virginity at the ripe old age of 22, to a 35-year-old cougar who was his best friend’s babysitter when they were kids. Just Alex prefers missionary position, so he’s boring in bed. He once got a blow job from a Swedish girl who used her teeth too much (I can assure you, Swedish guys don’t have such problems in bed), so he tried to teach her how to do it right. That just begs the question, how does he know the proper technique for sucking cock? Just Alex once had sex on a swingset in his apartment complex. He also once dated a Brazilian girl who wouldn’t go down on him because it was against the morals of her village. One night, though, she started to head in that direction, told him to roll over, and tossed his salad. Interesting morals, that village has.
Naming suggestions (that didn’t suck) were:
And then, she licked my ass
Parting the River Stinks
Tossed in Translation
Don’t Tell Mom, the Babysitter Gives Head
Adventures in Baby-shitting
Tongue in Cheek
Late in the Pink, Tongue in the Stink
It was a tough call, but in the end, we named Just Alex Late in the Pink, Tongue in the Stink. Shocking, no?
We finished the beer, headed to the Times, drank a lot of Guiness (or cheap cans of Miller Lite, but why?), and tried to get laid.
EWH3 #582 – The Original Jackass Birthday Trail: An ode to Johnny Knoxville (and jorts)
Hares: Put It Out, WaxOnWhacksOff, Whiskey Business, PeeWee’s Little Adventure, Snatch to the Future
Where: Virginia Sq. / GMU
When: March 11, 2010
Brew Crew: Brokeback Mama and Cum Dumpling
Virgins: Just Amber, Just Mary, another Just Mary, Just Kate, Just Aaron, Just Lisa, Just Doug, Just Matt, Just Demi, Just Joe, Just Shelly
Visitor: Cherry Peddler (Japan)
Being one of the first warm weather hashes of the year, a significant number of mostly sex-depraved hashers descended upon the VA Sq. metro, looking for a run, and hopefully a piece of ass later on in the evening. Most got the first part. The second? Not so much. The walkers got neither. Weird.
With the EWH3 hareline truly receding (read: sign up to hare a trail, you lazy bastards!), two veteran hashers stepped in to save the day (PIO and WoWo) and they pulled in the only (piece of) asses they could get their hands on: the newly re-named Whiskey Business (the douchebag formerly known as Cum and Knock on My Back Door) and PeeWee’s Little Adventure. And just because they could, they decided to lay their trail wearing Jorts. The only thing more pathetic than that was the TRUE fact (hand to God) that Whiskey Business, in order to join the kewl kids wearing frayed and totally not gay jean shorts, bought his roommate Subway if he promised to bring WB his jorts to run in. Really, you’ll pay someone else $5 to run around North Arlington wearing jorts? How much would you pay someone to kick you in the balls? Abuse is abuse, that’s all I’m saying’…
Trail was interesting, where we looped around the metro a couple times. We also passed some interesting sites. One of the restaurants we passed on trail was aptly named “PIO.” And did anyone notice that every time we crossed Wilson Blvd., it was next to a Mexican joint? This was also appropriate, cause after passing the last one, the trail quickly turned into shit.
We circled up on the Ballston parking deck, and then the fun began. First and foremost, I would like to apologize for the absolute scathing violations that I meted out to some people. But it’s not my fault you all suck at life. Onto your violations:
·The Hares: With PIO and WoWo haring with Whiskey Business and PeeWee’s Little Adventure, the hash had a distinct “Fathers Take Their Sons to the Hash” feel to it.
·Big Digwas complaining that her pre-hash meal wasn’t enough to hold her over. Apparently St. Pauli’s Girl didn’t give her enough “throat yogurt” before the start.
·Roll over, Bitch! refused to cross the street with oncoming traffic, stating that, “I want to live.” Dude, you live alone with 2 cats, have no girlfriend, and play video games all day. What exactly do you have to live for?!
·Cock-A-Doodle-Do-Me stated earlier in the day that she wanted to dip little babies in maple syrup and eat them. Um, that’s just fucked up. Even for us.
·Sphincter Shy was overheard saying “it’s all over my chest and I can’t get it off.” He was apparently speaking about his ex-girlfriend.
·Just Sarah had on a nice set of pearl earrings. For a couple beers at the bar and a shot of 4 Loko, I can give you the necklace to match.
·PIO’s jorts were the best (if you can actually RANK jorts) with the perfect length, frays and holes in the leggings… AC Slater called. He wants his look back.
·Twinkle, Twinkle Little Cock is currently engaged in a “pussy finding” contest with his poofter dog, Jizzmo.Apparently, things are going so badly for TTLC that he had Jizzmo neutered. UPDATE: Jizzmo humped 3 legs Thursday. TTLC humped his right hand.
·Gaystation was wearing a 70s wife beater, 70s cargo shorts while sporting a 70s haircut and chin-strip facial hair. He looked like an episode of Welcome Back, Kotter on acid.
·At the beer check, which was 3 houses away from St. Pauli’s Girl’s house, Big Dig thought that it would be a good idea to go to his place, have a couple of SPG’s homemade beer and then drive to end circle. Who the hell do you think you are, Please Step Away from the Whores?
·It wasn’t even that hot out, but Sphincter Shy decided that he was going to run shirtless. With his gruff facial features and hairy chest, he looked just like Tom Selleck in Magmum PI, but without all that “cool, sexy, studly, every-girl-wants-to-bang-me” baggage.
·PIO conveniently ran trail past his own “PIO” restaurant, but neglected to run us by the “PIO Walk of Shame.”
·Pining over some girl, Whiskey Business told me that he was looking forward to a plate of all you can eat wings at the OnOnOn… unless said girl showed up, in which case she can have a plate full of his heart. Dude, we almost re-named something with a direct reference to syphilis. I think she’d be better off with a plate full of amoxicillin.
·I’ll Push Backa was seen in ending circle with a nifty little Ziploc bag of trail mix that he brought from home. That’s cute… did your mother pack your lunchbox that day, too?
·Vienna Sausage, immediately after leaving beer check, ran headfirst into one of those wooden gates that block exits to parking garages. Germans are stupid.
·Gaystation had a nice little dew rag hanging out of his back pocket on trail. He’s also been hanging around Dupont a lot lately. We know that the rag means… it hurts you to sit down lately, doesn’t it?
We then turned things around, completely mixed up your typical EWH3 circle, and ended with… well. We all know the drill.
Here’s what was discovered about Just Barney:
He was brought to the hash by Obeastiologist, and it was noted that this was the first time OB got anything or anyone at the hash to cum. He went to the University of Rochester for undergrad, and went to grad school at the University of Delaware. He presently works at the NIH as a psychologist. His favorite farm animal is the milk cow, because he claims that they have big teets. His favorite position is reverse cowgirl. He lost his virginity on the playground of the elementary school that he went to as a child (last week seems SO long ago). His most embarrassing sexual moment was when he was given a handjob (presumably by some dude) wearing a handful of rings. It was so painful that it destroyed most of his foreskin.Seriously dude? It’s ok to say, “No, stop, MY DICK IS BLEEDING PROFUSELY!!” Just Barney is married, and (how cute) they have identical tattoos. Except that they didn’t get them together. She had hers before they met, and Mr. Originality over here decided to show his dedication to her and her past by getting the same one. Ah, a permanent reminder of something you don’t understand because you weren’t there… He was truly embarrassed when he was at the airport going through security when his luggage started buzzing. The bags were flagged by security, but fear not, no bomb… it was just his wife’s vibrator. And finally, the meanest thing he ever did to someone was when he threw a meat cleaver at his younger brother.
K through a Fifth
And How Don’t I Make You Feel?
Sword of the Rings
Since none of those names made any goddamn sense, we went with the obvious: Homeland Insecurity. Welcome to the club, d-bag!!
We all then went to the OnOnOn, First Down. It was cool, cheap beers, kick-ass buffalo wings (or so I’m told, a certain someone forgot to order mine!!), and good times. I don’t know what the rest of you all did, but I went home and got laid.
https://www.ewh3.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/EWH3_logo-No-Background.png00Scribehttps://www.ewh3.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/EWH3_logo-No-Background.pngScribe2010-03-23 19:32:442014-03-03 19:06:18Hash Trash: EWH3 #582 – The Original Jackass Birthday Trail: An ode to Johnny Knoxville (and jorts)