EWH3 #601: Van Dorn Street Metro Trail – Thursday, July 22, 2010
Where: Van Dorn Street Metro — Blue Line. Follow chalk marks from the metro exit to the start.
When: 6:45 PM, Thursday, July 22, 2010. Pack away at 7:15ish.
Hares: Cum of a Preacher’s Hand and friends.
Misc: A-A’. Headlamps and flashlights are highly recommended. Runners trail is NOT dog friendly (don’t bitch if you bring your pooch). According to your hare trail will “require at least minor feats of agility and coordination. Runners will get wet and should bring dry shoes and clothes. High risk of PI.” Oh and did I mention you should bring headlamps and dry clothes. You’ve been warned.
https://www.ewh3.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/EWH3_logo-No-Background.png00ewh3razorhttps://www.ewh3.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/01/EWH3_logo-No-Background.pngewh3razor2010-07-21 13:29:352011-05-15 18:22:57EWH3 #601: Van Dorn Street Metro Trail - Thursday, July 22, 2010
EWH3 #600, byatches: BETTY FORD RELAPSE Trail – Thursday, July 15, 2010
Where: Eastern Market Metro (near where alcoholics make laws) — Blue/Orange Line. Follow chalk marks from the metro exit to the start and follow the smell of sweet, sweet booze.
When: 6:45 PM, Thursday, July 15, 2010. Pack away at 7:15ish.
Hares: Gaystation, Sphincter Shy, Blows a Tranny, Just Kristin, 6 Fags and Red Vag of Courage. Along with a group of very awesome, amazingly sexy volunteers (be nice to them).
Misc: A-B. Drunk dog friendly. Alley shiggy. PI potential is next to none. Blackout potential is next to incredibly likely. 8ish shots. One beer check. It’s supposed to be a hot day yall and we’re force feeding you lots of booze, so safety third…but maybe drink some water that day.
Specials: $3.50 Coronas and Miller Lites, all—night—long!
Also a note from our friendly bartender tomorrow: “I would say that you should give everyone wristbands, but, because of my experience with your group in the past, I know you are not hard to identify.” Yeeea, we’re the loud drunks in running clothes.
EWH3 #596: Not a Dupont Trail, Southern Avenue Metro
Hares: Chicken Fucker, Whiskey Business, Put It Out
Brew Crew: Buttfuck Norris, Fuck’s Up, Doc?
Virgins: Just Ryan, Lauren, Matthew
Visitors: Able Bouncing Queen (Baku, Azerbaijan H3)
OnOnOn: The Player’s Lounge (Georgina’s)
Since we didn’t get a Marion Barry sighting when we were in Southeast for the Tour Duh Hash a few weeks ago, we just had to come back and give it another shot. The pack was off into upper Prince George’s County/lower Anacostia. The hares steered us into some shiggy really quickly. Now, I didn’t see much PI in said shiggy, but thorns, on the other hand, were all over the place. I came out of the woods looking like I’d been attacked by a werewolf, and not the pretty, sparky, teenybopper kind. We ran by an apartment complex, where a huge-ass bee followed me around for a while, scaring the crap out of me, across some fields covered in knee-high grass, and shortcut under a fence that PIO said was good for anyone under 200 pounds to get under, but neglected to mention that it was also not meant for anyone over a B cup. There was a 12-pack for the FRBs hidden in the last field, but none of them found it, presumably because they wanted to spend as little time getting their already shredded shins lashed by the tall grass. After passing more apartment complexes, and running through a huge park, we FINALLY reached beer check, in an apartment parking lot.
I walked the second half, as I had a pulled muscle and had gotten enough lacerations on my legs. It was a straight shot in to the alley behind Georgina’s, only made eventful by some of mismanagement meeting up with us and asking if we’d seen any bags–apparently, Plan B REALLY wanted to be in Dupont, so it took off from beer check with its back door open. Fortunately, nothing was lost, as far as I know. We circled up and iced the hares. Chicken Fucker got iced in both senses of the word: the traditional sit-with-your-bare-ass-on-ice way, and the “ice a bro” way.
Roll Over, Bitch! broke his wrist in a tragic wanking incident.
Cum Dumpling got his hair chopped off, and by the looks of it, he can’t decide if he’s going to star in “Grease” or become an Elvis impersonator.
Maytagged came back to DC for the weekend and brought the entire state of California in her bag.
After constantly complaining about how people confuse them with each other all the time, Fuck’s Up Doc, Have Fun Storming the Asshole and Hong Kong Ptooey! made it even harder for us by all showing up wearing yellow.
Eat Your Vegetables and Rear Protein Injection didn’t just have technology on trail–they had matching technology on trail. Isn’t that cute?
Red Vag of Courage was so afraid of getting shot, she tried to get killed by a car instead.
Just Lauren bragged about coming in 3rd. That just means that whoever came in 1st and 2nd didn’t do a good job for her.
6 Pigs in a Blanket was the kind of racist you usually don’t see at the hash: she was heard saying, “I’m too white to handle this!” I don’t know, last I checked, being white didn’t have to preclude one from handling it. I’m just sayin’.
Pee on your Colada had blood all over her ass. She said it was paint, but we know that’s not true.
All the FRBs failed: General’s Farm Animal got to the 12-pack of beer before they did.
Chicken Fucker fisted a Teletubby: just look at his arm.
Cum Dumpling and Roll Over Bitch! decided they weren’t creepy enough, so they had a conversation about duck rape. Wow. Just, wow. I REALLY don’t want to know.
Tranny in Training was too lazy to solve a check, but not too lazy to prance around in his kilt.
Whiskey Business looks like a Native American Bob Saget.
Just Lauren and Fuck’s Up, Doc? dressed for cocktail hour after the hash.
Just Sarah and Fucks Abroad both wore raceist t-shirts. The usual kind of raceist.
Violations from the Crowd
Just Martina is moving to Wisconsin and thinks that she’ll be with “her people.” Nah, they’re all in Fairfax County.
Roll Over, Bitch got pepper sprayed last time we were in this neighborhood, and Motormouth put on a dramatic reenactment of the occasion.
Sphincter Shy tried to violate someone but couldn’t get it out.
Cock-a-Doodle-do-Me did her best Sphincter Shy impression.
Whiskey Business went out drinking on Tuesday night and woke up on Wednesday not remembering a thing: next time he tries to roofie someone, he should remember which drink the roofie is in.
Motormouth said it was impossible to hare a trail in this area without any PI, but somehow, there wasn’t any this week.
Wank Like An Egyptian was so nervous about running through the ghetto, that whenever he ran by a pack of African-Americans, he shouted, “Hey, I’m one of you!”
Cocky forgot that Egypt is in Africa, so yes, Wank is “one of them.”
Roll Over, Bitch! started choking and gagging before he even got to the glory hole in the men’s room of Georgina’s.
Presidential Nasty got his MD/PhD. Get a life, get a life, get a life, life, life!
And then, of course, it was time for a naming!
Just Mike went to Georgetown and is a semen, oops, I mean, naval officer. When he saw his girlfriend for the first time in a month, he dragged her into a stateroom on the ship and started getting it on. One of his friends was constantly texting him, he was reading the texts while shagging his girlfriend–she must not have been very good–and when they emerged, everyone was outside clapping. Just Mike lost his virginity at age 17 to a business student. His iPod was messed up and the same song kept playing over and over again on repeat. This last sentence was brought to you by the Department of Redundancy Department. I don’t know what song it was, so I’m just going to assume it was, “I Want It That Way.” Just Mike likes to motorboat women’s vaginas while they have their ankles on his shoulders. He also likes cows, clown porn, and, wait for it, ballroom dancing. Namely, the hustle and the cha cha. If the navy thing didn’t already clue you in, yup, he’s gay. But ballroom dancing isn’t the gayest thing he’s ever done: he’s also played Gay Chicken. If you didn’t already know, Gay Chicken is when two dudes lean in to kiss each other, and whoever pulls away first is gay. I don’t quite get the logic of that, but I thank Sphincter Shy and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Cock for the entertaining demonstration. Now I TOTALLY understand why dudes always want to watch two girls.
Names: Technology on Tail
It’s What’s For Dinner
Ain’t Gay if it’s Underway
Spongebob Square Dick
There’s an App for Twat
USS Enter Ass
In the end, Just Mike was dubbed USS Enter Ass!
We drank, we sang, we danced, we ate fried chicken at Georgina’s, but sadly, we did not see Marion Barry. Maybe next time. We can only hope.