EWH3 #541 – Combat Veterans’ Hash, Van Dorn Street
Hares: Little Red Ride Me Good, Double Ohhhh Positive, Porn to Fail, Eat Your Vegetables, JAG Queen
Brew Crew: Brokeback Mama, Red Vag of Courage
Virgins: Just: Marshall, Esti, Daniel, Robbie, Hugo, Tina, Roxanne, John, Saul, Steph, and Jim
Visitors: Kilt Lifter, Curtis Flush, Nadia Cum ‘n’ Eat Me, Foreign Sex Change, Taco’s Camel Toe
Ononon: Nick’s Country Bar
After being booted from the original starting point by a security guard in a Hyundai, the pack circled up in a parking lot far, far away from the Metro and almost immediately plunged into some shiggy that led to a creek. Before reaching the creek, some wanker stepped on a hornets’ nest, unleashing the fury of a thousand angry, stinging insects. Hornets on trail, really? This is not ‘Nam. There are rules. I myself got stung 5 times. And then, to top it off, a thunderstorm came in, creating flash flood conditions. We trudged on through the creek, then into a tunnel under the Beltway, but there was no light at the end of it, only a crawl space. Finally, at the end of the crawl space, we saw daylight. The pack came out in a space between several tunnels and had to climb a rope to get out. We then waded through what was supposed to be a creek, but looked more like a chest-deep fjord thanks to the storm.
The hares swept the back of the pack straight into beer check, because trail had washed out in the rain and one of the tunnels we were supposed to go through was completely flooded. My relief at the sight of sweet, sweet beer was tempered when a few minutes after getting into beer check, when my lips started going numb and my whole face swelled up until I looked like I could be on the front page of www.enoughwiththecollagenalready.com. And that, my friends, is how I learned that I am allergic to wasp and hornet stings. The FRBs were still out trying to find trail, though word came in that some of them had gone straight to the on-on-on. The hares swept the pack that was at the beer check there, while Designer Bush was kind enough to drive me to Giant so I could buy some Benadryl. Turtle Dick drove his truck around the area and swept the remaining runners in to the parking lot behind the on-on-on.
Before we could circle up, the owner asked us to come in and pay for beer instead of drinking it for free, and the taps in Plan B went wonky. The pack went into the bar, drank beer, sang karaoke, and those who weren’t too wounded from trail tried to get laid.
For the love of god, avoid stinging insects,
Tits for Tots
Hares: Chicken Fucker, Monday Sticky Monday, Beer Fairy, A-Salt My Ass and Peace O’Chum
Brew Crew: Silver Spooge and Wank Like An Egyptian
Virgins: Just Steph, James, Jess, Julie, Jeremy, Mike, Travis, Jamie, Mark and Juan
Visitors: No visitors were dumb enough to run this trail!
This week the hares had us venture over the Anacostia, through the ghetto and into eastern Maryland. We circled up on the top of the metro parking garage and commenced our normal opening activities. The trail featured surprisingly little ghetto and lots of shiggy. This included many forays through pricker bushes which everyone enjoyed. One of the more interesting pieces of terrain was a very large, abandoned parking lot in the middle of nothing. It was difficult to imagine what this parking lot used to serve as parking for.
Eventually we emerged from the wilderness into one of DC’s finer neighborhoods where all the best shopping (for illicit drugs) and (gang graffiti) and nightlife (Georgina’s, the singular bar in the whole neighborhood) can be found!
Now on to the details:
- A-Salt My Ass grabbed Cock Your Suck I Will from behind and picked her up during opening circle. I hope you all caught that because it’s probably the last time you’ll ever have the opportunity to witness ASMA picking up a girl.
- Bitch On Bitch On Bitch was overheard complaining “This thing made me itch.” Something you picked up at the hash made you itch…? No shit!
- Chicken Fucker (and the hares) laid yet another trail that made everyone bleed like a 12 year old girl getting finger banged for the first time.
- Hair Cuntery was complaining that the terrain encountered on trail wasn’t quite what was advertised on the trail news. If had known there was going to be so much shiggy he would have worn different shoes. If that’s not some r*cist bullshit I don’t know what is!
- Cum Dumplings batteries died on trail and he didn’t have any replacements. CD should always have extra batteries with him. We all know there is no way he’ll ever be able please a woman without a battery operated device.
- Fat Friends in Wet Places was carrying his cell phone on trail. I hate to be the one to break it to you dude, but she’s never going to call you back.
- Do Me Howser and Cum Dumpling were rubbing each others nipples at beer check. That’s some gay shit right there.
- Cum Cumpling and Do Me Howser couldn’t stop talking about queens on trail. Whether they were talking about history or their last date, is inconsequential, they deserved their down-downs.
- An Inconvenient Poop was 30 minutes late to the hash. You know the old saying: better late than pregnant!
- Just Carla was the victim of not just one but two drive-by pickup attempts on this ghetto trail. No word if any of the thugz actually got her number…
- It was Cute Lesbian In Training’s birthday. We usually don’t commemorate birthday’s at EWH3 but in this case we made an exception since it meant C.L.I.T. was finally old enough to get her learners permit.
- Dyke Tyson was complaining that she couldn’t get her tits out. I have three words for you: practice, practice,practice. Us harriers will be happy to observe and critique your technique.
- Tits for Tots was wearing a shirt that so torn up it made her look like the latest tiger attach victim at the ‘Ziegfried and Roy’ show.
- Finally the Hares were violated for not looking out for our brew crew. The chose an ending circle that was right in front of a sign reading: “No serving or consuming alcohol within 1000 feet. Violators will be prosecuted.”
Then we had a very special occasion… a NAMING! (It’s not like we do this EVERY week!)
This night Just Nikki was brought into the circle so that the crowd could give her a decent and respectable name worthy of the hash. During the interrogation phase of the ritual we learned the following about Just Nikki:
- She went to college at Salisbury University in Maryland home of the Seagulls.
- She supports her hashing habit bu working as a graphic designer at the Jewish Community Center… and yes she is a Hebe!
- Her favorite barnyard animal is the Cock
- Her favorite sexual position is Doggy Style and the most unusual place she’s had sex is an elementary school playground.
- In her opinion facials are good for your skin.
A few stories came out about Just Nikki. One time a boyfriend passed out while going down on her. She was also caught having sex with a dude who had a girlfriend (she was the mistress) by the guys mom.
Her most embarrassing sexual experience occurred in high school however. Her boyfriend decided to make her a romantic dinner for valentines day. His parents were out of the house and he set up candles and everything. After dinner things got hot and heavy and they went to his room to have sex. Unfortunately his parents and grandparents came home early that night. Even more unfortunately they ran into the house screaming, not because they knew Just Nikki and her guy were having sex, but because the dining room table was ON FIRE. Just Nikki and the boyfriend had to evacuate the house naked. Remember kids, put those candles out before you start playing a round of ‘hide the candle.’ Lesson learned!
The crowd come up with the following nominations for Just Nikki:
- Friction Burn
- Wake Up Little Floozie
- Stop Fuck and Roll
- Ambien Me Over
- Parent Trap
- It Burns It Burns
- Fire Down Under
- Come On Baby Light My Fire
Hmm most of these names followed a theme. In the end the crowd favorite was Backshaft in honor of the classic firefighting movie and some sort of phallus. That’s just how we roll. Goodbye Just Nikki, hello Backshaft may all your hashes be short and beer filled and all your drunken mistakes be disease free.
Then we went to the ononon, Georgina’s, got drunk and clumsily made passes at each other… some of them probably even worked. No sightings of former mayor Marion Barry this time. Boo!
Until next time…
Rear Protein Injection
EWH3 #539 – C*ck ‘n’ Roll, Metro Center
Hares: Cock Your Suck I Will, Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me, CoXXX on Demand, Slumcock Anywhere, The Cock Strikes 12, Twinkle Twinkle Little Cock, Shamrock Your Cock
Brew Crew: Runs with Bulls, Marco Homo
Virgins: Just way too many to keep track of
Visitors: Just Josh (Hindu Kush—transplant), Turbo Pussy (Boston—Transplant), Fucks Ewes (Portland)
Analversaries: 17 runs—Sextion 7 Housing, The Whores on the Bus Go Up and Down, 1 Girl, 2 Cups; 100 runs—My Little Pony, Do Me Howser
Ononon: Penn Quarter Sports Bar
The hares were so excited for us all to party like c*ck stars that they brought party favors: star-shaped sunglasses, fake tattoos, inflatable guitars, and confetti poppers. In honor of the late Michael Jackson, all the sunglasses were too small for anyone who didn’t have a child-size head. After circling up, the pack embarked on a trail so messy that it deserves its very own E! True Hollywood Story. We went through about 42 back checks before having to either climb over or sneak through a gap in a very rusty fence and reaching the shot check and downed a fruity concoction that the hares insisted was called, “The Cock of Paradise.” Maybe that’s what they’d like us to call it. After having our shots—both alcoholic and tetanus, after that fence—we climbed another fence and ran through some urban shiggy to the beer check on top of a parking deck.
A couple beers later, the pack took off through the urban shiggy before reaching the scariest place in DC. No, I’m not talking about Anacostia. I’m talking about Georgetown Law Center campus. Fortunately, most of the pack managed to escape unscathed, with all their money intact. (To the guy soliciting for the annual fund, give me a chance to pay off my damn loans first!) We then zigged and zagged through the Police Memorial and Chinatown, coming dangerously close to the On-On-On, before ending up at the same parking deck where we’d had beer check.
- Chippen Fails had a really good ride, but he just couldn’t stay up.
- Ass Spelunker turned another year older
- Put It Out he tried to emulate Michael Jackson and give himself a nose job, but he ran into a tree to do it and just ended up with a bloody face for his troubles.
- Big Bend Over wore a raceist t-shirt AND bragged about being the 3rd person into beer check.
- Do Me Howser went to the ice cream truck to hang out with the little kids gathered there, but wouldn’t let any of them lick his popsicle.
- Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Cock got a new job doing math for a living and resigned himself to never getting laid again.
- Cute Lesbian in Training said, “I smell mothballs,” while running with Tar Squeal. I know it may have been a while, but that’s not a nice thing to say about Tar Squeal’s vagina.
- The hares for thinking you could make a trail entirely of back checks. More hares doesn’t necessarily equal a better trail, but when there are 7 of you, you can rotate on and off the ice in circle.
- Cocktuplets still doesn’t have a hole, even though there’s an operation to fix that.
- Silly Gay Virus was wearing the loudest, most obnoxious neon shirt I’ve seen since I was in grade school. Good thing those sunglasses actually fit me; I needed them just to look at it.
- Assflac made out with Just Maisie (WOWO’s weimaraner) and said he’s had worse.
- Big Bend Over was looking for the first aid kit because his nipples were chafed, and he wasn’t even wearing a corset.
- Bow-Chick-a-Bow-Bow is the worst wingman ever; he was going to bring something for Can’t Get Beaver to bang, but he forgot.
- Floral Sex, Double-Ohh Positive, and Please Step Away from the Whores auto-hashed in a cab.
- The Cock Strikes 12 tried to give people shots of flour. Despite all appearances, it’s not Jesus Juice from concentrate
- Just Steph was rubbing a confetti popper, trying to figure out how it worked, when it went off prematurely, in her hand.
Violations from the Crowd:
- Floral Sex can fit more in when she loses muscle tone.
- Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me tried to impersonate the drummer from Def Leppard, but she has one arm too many.
- Sexion 7 Housing said that no matter how you violated her, she still wouldn’t come all the time.
- Assflac is allergic to pussy, especially when it gets close to his face.
- Osama Bin Put It Out wrapped his t-shirt around his head to look like a turban.
- Tits for Tots wiped out on trail but was relieved to at least not have hurt her bone.
Then we had a NAMING!
Just May attended the Naval Academy, where she majored in oceanography, and is now a supply officer. She’s a lightweight who gets drunk on 2 beers, but she is a pro at booting and rallying; her record is puking 5 times at the Preakness Stakes. Just May lived in Bancroft Hall and once got caught having sex on the roof. She has two tattoos, one of which is a tramp stamp with Chinese characters that she says mean, “hope, prosperity and double happiness,” but actually means, “enter here.” The other tattoo is a monkey on her hip with the words, “Pura Vida,” or “life is good.” Just May owns a dog named The Dread Pirate Roberts, which has to be the most awesome pet name ever. She likes to leave her underwear on the balcony, and when she lived on a ship, there were 2000 Marines on board beating off while thinking about her. Or her underwear. Just May once got her sister arrested for assault, and gave her coach a boner when he heard her faking an orgasm.
Names (that didn’t suck) were:
- VOUS (Vaginas of Unusual Size)
- Pussy on a Hot Tin Roof
- Hey, Hey, Here’s My Monkey!
- Red Roofie Inn
- Win, Place, or Throw
- Anchor Twat
- There She Blows… Again
- Have Fun Storming The Asshole!
Who can resist a Princess Bride reference? We sure can’t, so henceforth and forevermore, throughout the world of hashing (except Great Falls—fuck them!), Just May will be known as Have Fun Storming the Asshole!
About half of us made it to the on-on-on, drank cheap beer, saw one of the most amusing table reservation signs ever (“Natural Distaster Wedding Party,” a bit redundant if you ask me) and tried to get laid. It was horribly crowded, so apparently, the other half went to a different bar, drank cheap beer, and played flip-cup, presumably while also trying to get laid. Now that takes some coordination!
Until next time, keep partying like c*ck stars,
Tits for Tots