Remember those cool chapter books where the authors were too lazy to decide which way the story should go so they left it up to a bunch of nine year olds to choose for themselves? Yeah, this trail was kind of like that, except both stories ended in with cum in your hair and regret in your soul. Wait, was that just me? Didn’t think so.
When: Thursday, October 4, 2018 Where: Tenleytown Metro (Red Line) or Courthouse Metro Station (Orange Line) Hares:Colliteral Damage, CockWhisperer, Wookin Pa Nub, Hell’s Anal, Tomb Raper, and Can’t Find Pussy in a Haystack More Hares: All Flash No Drive, Blows a Tranny, Wait Wait Don’t Fuck Me, Special Head Kid, Mambo # Hives, Fire in the Hole Virgins: Just Eric Visitors: Plasti-flab, Rotten Whore, Dead Head, Tanned Peaches, Dead Woody, Semen On The Pew, Undercover Jerker, 49 Hands, S&M Man, Little Thunder Clap, Muff Master Long Time No See ‘Ems: For Sale or Rent
Since y’all have already made your bed and thus have to lie in it so to speak, let me help you choose another adventure. I present: EWH3’s Official Hare of the Dog Guide*. These day (or week) after solutions have been scientifically proven to reduce the effects of your Thursday – and Friday and Saturday and Sunday) night**.
*Disclaimer: Nothing I ever write is “official.” You should take every word with a rim of salt (and a lime). ** probably.
Bloody Mary The quintessential morning-after drink, a Bloody Mary can haunt away even the most stubborn of hangovers.
Mimosas The proper ratio is 9.8 parts champagne, .1 parts OJ, .1 parts despair.
Pedialyte The rich man’s Gatorade, Pedialyte is gentler on the stomach and doesn’t taste like clown farts. Pro-tip: Freeze up some Pedialyte pops for summer time ragers. (Note to Miles D. White: please forward any sponsorship offers to [email protected]).
Beer Every hasher’s favorite beverage. A crisp beer – preferably combined with a shower – will wash your cares away.
Saline Drip Everyone has that one friend who just barely passed the Ethics course of their nursing program.
Literally nothing is made worse by cumming.
The Hares started strong, walking us past a fire station. Sorry to say, but even DC’s finest can’t stop that burning in your crotch.
Agent Orgy was overheard exclaiming “All I want is to Heimlich someone!” I have it on good authority that she got those thrusts just right.
At start, Schrodinger’s Cock offered his tongue to every single hasher in attendance. Not a single one took him up on the offer.
Wank Like An Egyptian came on a scooter, marking the first and last time someone found a scooter sexy.
Meanwhile, on ballbuster, Tuck Tuck Duece complained, as is his wont. What was the problem this time? Too much beer. Baa Ram Him was also living the #TuckLife, complaining about the abundance of alcohol at shot check. To his credit, he swallowed anyway.
Speaking of complaints, to make up for his blatant mug shaming, Deetz Nuts owes Mambo # Hives a shiny new EWH3 sticker (you can buy one Here!).
The Other Hares were violated for celebrating Halloween early and literally sucking the blood out of every one dumb enough to venture out on that trail.
Maybe It’s Gaybelline shared his personal record for fucking twice in one hour – with a 58 minute nap in between.
Senior Sodomizing Slut blew his load in an unsuspecting harriette’s ear without warning. I guess you could say she didn’t hear him cumming.
As we geared up for a weekend of debauchery, there was no room for a naming. Rather, we celebrated a hasher who stood before us on the anal-versary of his special night (no, no, the other one) in the very same place as his own naming. I don’t know what he said that night, but I do have some guesses.
Shetland Blow Me – a saga in three acts
Maybe he was a cowboy, or maybe he just fucked one. He might have blown a many men or just a metric suck ton.
He could like wearing saddles, or maybe spurs or boots He could, like a horse, have the very worst of toots
Whatever brought him to us and whoever his biggest foe be. We love him dearly, this sad fuck, whose name is Shetland Blow Me.
There are tales of brave hashers who ventured on, to Guapos. Some say they are still drinking those giant margaritas to this day. The rest of us went home to get our final hour of sleep before embarking on another journey that we will surely regret.
On – We Don’t Deserve To Wear White – On Your adorable ring bear, Poon-apple Juice and de-flower girl, Mambo # Hives
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.pngScribe2018-10-08 20:55:132018-10-08 20:55:13EWH3 HASH TRASH #1088: THE CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE: BALL BUSTER AND WHITE DRESS AT RED DRESS TRAIL! – OCTOBER 4TH – TENLEYTOWN (RED LINE) AND COURTHOUSE (ORANGE/SILVER)
Where: Braddock Road Metro (Blue and Yellow Lines)
Hares: Too Easy, Fish and Tits, Camo Sutra, Blows a Tranny, and Knocked Up
Virgins: Justs Ben and Grayson
Visitors: Slothy Seconds (who totally doesn’t count, but is delightful, so whatev) and Pretty Pretty Pittsburgh
Long time no see: Mouthful of Clam
The poor long-lost Mouthful of Clam had lamented that It’s Always Too Sunny in San Diego, and he missed hashing in the rain. The cold rain. MisManagement would like Clam to refrain from such inauspicious tempting of the Elder Gods or specify RAIN OF BEER for whatever eldritch being is taking his weather requests.
The RA and Scribe were sodden and shivering, so we decided to speed run the circle.
Violations: The pack probably did some terrible, deceitful, drunken shit. None of it would keep them off the Supreme Court, so who the fuck cares.
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.pngScribe2018-09-28 19:15:122018-09-28 19:15:12EWH3 HASH TRASH #1087: THE PLEASE FALL, SHOW UP ALREADY TRAIL! – SEPTEMBER 27TH – BRADDOCK ROAD (BLUE AND YELLOW LINES)
When: 6:45 PM Thursday September 20th, 2018. Pack away at 7:15! Where: Eastern Market Metro Station – follow marks to start! Hares:GeriatricMandering; Colliteral Damage; Cheech and Dong; Son, What the Fuck; Vaginal Countdown; Rosetta Bone; Deathly Swallows; and Rail Mary Virgins: Just Riker Visitors:Fully Drunktional, The Virginator (who is currently homeless), and some foreign wanker whose name I never got, but it’s ok because he didn’t let himself out of the circle. Some say he’s still there to this day.
Honestly, everyone, I sat here for a good ten minutes trying to figure out how to say “Octoboo-er.” I gave up, had a drink, and got spooooookyinstead.
and then I made my way down to Eastern Market.
Other things that got spoooooky:
The shots – On the first half of trail, the shot check was trapped in the upside-down, unavailable to those of us in this mortal realm.
The second half of trail – Our hares provided 11 (eleven!) gallons of shots for the second half of trail, proving they are indeed wannabe serial killers.
The cabana boys – Lord, was that a (trick-or-) treat.
The trees – They came alive and tried to rip off a man bun (can’t say I blame ’em).
The Twinkle Juice – It’s literally never a good idea.
Following a small course correction to account for a party (of ghosts?), we got down to the nitty-gritty:
Twinkle, Twinkle Little Cock brought (gallons of) Twinkle Juice and also literally forgot the word for consent. Much like our repressed memories of summer camp, this is going to haunt us.
L’Chymen hobbled along on a broken foot. Who knew foot jobs could get so violent? (spoooooky feet)
Speaking of violence, Schrodinger’s Cock reminded us that all it takes is one quick smack for him to make a mess. (a spoooooky mess)
Uno, Dos, TresLiftoff is gearing up for her second campout in a row. Guess she really appreciates a nicely pitched tent. (spoooooky tents)
Much of the pack was worried that our virgin, Just Riker, was r*ce-ist. We were relieved to find out that he’s just into water sports. (spoooooky water)
Stain Gretzky was overheard complaining about some dribble. She really needs to learn to swallow.. her pride.
Just when we thought it couldn’t get any spookier, we were possessed by a very solemn spirit for …
The Naming of Just Jones
Just Jones, a former pet store owner from Texas, propositions strangers on a daily basis. They think humans are easier than animals and are a fan of back porches. They’re not significantly mean and enjoy books about Narnia. They’ve fucked their way through New York, the Vagina Monologues, and their art classes model roster. They like it when it goes swish (No, I have no context for that comment) and know that the most important thing to grab in a hurricane situation is whiskey. They once helped a mom dig an irrigation ditch, which was impressive enough. It was all fun and games and irrigating bitches until we learned that Just Jones has a twin! It was this revelation that led Cum Peg Me to name them…
On – It was a graveyard smash – On