Hares:  Me Likee-Lickee-Caca, Tit-Ka-Boob, WOWO, Underground Railroad and Mellow Foreskin Cheese

Brew Crew:  Chicken Phucker, Just May

Virgins: Justs Jessica, Christian, David, Tim, Mark, Al, Rebecca, Leah, Sam, Sarah, Desirae, and Brett

Visitors:  Bang Me, Blow Me, Make Me Cum (Thirstday—Chicago), Just Wendell (Dayton or Smutty Crab)

Ononon:  American Legion

The pack started out by the new DOT building and took off into the sweltering heat and humidity.  We looped through a big chunk of Southwest DC, at one point following flour that was not blue but an odd, beige color (more on that later), and got a bit lost when trail seemed to lead to a WH4 check.  Eventually, we reached the side of the erstwhile Market Inn—way too close to my office for comfort—for a lemony fresh shot check.  After that, the pack ran through a lighted tunnel and into a parking lot under a freeway, that some of us thought would be the location for beer check, but it turned out we had miles to go.  On we went, passing by a school and through some projects, until, just as we were thinking that this trail was shaping up to be a death march, we finally reached the beer check.

Our bellies full of beer, we continued on.  Still feeling my hangover from shenanigans the night before, I walked the second half, which turned out to be a pretty direct stroll from the beer check to our trusty on-in at Garfield Park.  Oh, Capitol Hill end circle location, how we will miss you when whatever construction is slated to take place there actually goes down.

 Violations:

• Just Scott was wearing brand new drinking vessels.  He had owned a pair of running shoes that looked exactly the same as his new pair, but gave them to a friend just so he could wear his brand new shoes to the hash.  Now, that’s trying way too hard.
• Ring Toss Salad must not be satisfied with his love life; he was making out with Just Maisie (WOWO’s dog, if you’ve been living under a rock) at opening circle.
• Eat Your Vegetables wore a headlamp and sunglasses on trail.  He’s not gay; he’s just confused.
• The hares can’t lay to save their lives.
• Roll Over, Bitch! likes uncircumcised dick on boys.  It is more sensitive that way.
• Buttfuck Norris needs to learn to keep a bitch in line; his dog took a huge dump in the middle of an intersection.
• Chip-n-Fails likes water sports, but he should find a consenting partner instead of sneaking up on harriettes as they are trying to pee.
• Hair Cuntery has so much trouble keeping a woman, he couldn’t even get one to stay with him when they’re handcuffed together.
• Peace O’Chum wore a shirt from a 5K and when called on it, said, “A 5K isn’t really a race.”  Raceism AND snobbery!
• My Little Pony gave a guy a blow job, tried to spit and failed, but hey, at least what didn’t go in him went on him.
• Muff the Magic Dragon drank the shot at shot check and said, “Mmm, chunky!  Just like I like it.”  Also, just like semen.
• Just Nick was wearing the shortest shorts I’ve ever seen worn by anyone other than Semen on the Pew.  The torch has been passed.
• Just David didn’t tell his virgin, Just Dez, to bring running shoes.
• The hares decided we should do something healthy to counteract the weekly destruction of our livers, so they laid trail with whole wheat flour.
• Chip-n-Fails’ package was almost hanging out of his shorts.  In the words of one harriette, “It’s like looking at a car crash—I really don’t want to look, but I can’t turn away!”
• Eat Your Vegetables pretended to not know where the Crucible was, but was not-so-secretly excited about it.
• Twinkle, Twinkle Little Cock really didn’t know anything about The Crucible.
• Keyless Entry had trouble counting to 69.  How could anyone forget that number?

 Violations from the Crowd:

• Peace O’Chum aired out her crotch at beer check.  Dude, we’re not in Baltimore.
• Rambutt was glad she took 12 inches before trail instead of just 6.  But who wouldn’t be happy about that?
• Cock Your Suck I Will can’t pour beer and sing at the same time.
• Cute Lesbian In Training was covered in cum and smoking a cigar at end circle. 
• Sphincter Shy got second-degree burns while masturbating.  I don’t even want to know.
• PoPo Disco put on a show for the 12-year-old boys the pack ran by.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again—that’s my job, dammit.
• Fat Friends In Wet Places got tired of waking up in a puddle, so he bought an economy-sized box of Depends.
• Cocky recruited Cock Your Suck I Will to bang other women, oops, I mean to play rugby.
• Floral Sex got her braces off—gentlemen, she can now give you head!
• CLIT demonstrated that she likes big, brown dick.

Then we had a NAMING!

Just Katharine can be kind of quiet, so we handcuffed her to Hair Cuntery at the start of trail, so he could get the goods on her.  She works in media relations, which means she bangs reporters.  This is completely unrelated to Just Katharine’s original field of study; she majored in gay, I mean, French, at Oberlin.  Despite having attended Oberlin, the college that requires express consent for anything sexual (“May I touch your boobies now?”  Awkward!), and whose students coined the term, “womyn,” she has never had a lesbian experience.  Just Katharine likes pigs, missionary position, and anal sex.  She slept with a 15-year-old when she was 20 (I have found my Yoda) and a 42-year old former Olympic gymnast, who was the fittest man she’s ever been with.  Finally, Just Katharine has lived in Tahiti and Senegal.  She got laid in Senegal, so she probably has AIDS now.

Naming Suggestions (that didn’t suck) were:

Mud Diamond

AIDS Worker

Sex Panther

Missionary Robinson

Mary Kay LePorno

Pummeled Horse

Whore Exercise

Cork Grind

Meat the Press

Seneganal

Her Medic Seal

And

Madeleine All Tight

In the end, the pack named her Meat the Press.

We proceeded to the on-on-on, drank cheap beer, some brave souls ate baked beans from a trough, and the rest of us tried to get laid.

Besos,

Tits for Tots

EWH3 Scribe