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