Hash # 759

March 11, 2001

Start: Woodley Park

Hares: CumSquat, FAG, KYBelly, Number 2, and Double D (Guest Hare visiting from Denver)

123 hashers milled around on the lawn of the Marriott Wardman Park on a lovely spring-like day. For Sale or Rent did some preemptive whining by asking the hares whether the Turkey Trail would be a long Turkey or a short Turkey. Then Puts It Out called us into the circle and ordered Perkaset to lead us in Father Abraham. Perkaset was singled out for having hoarded the precious Hash Shit for weeks on end, no doubt performing all manner of perverse acts with it. Vominatrix voiced hopes for a painfully long Eagle trail. She led the way out to Connecticut Ave with the newly named Turkey Timer close behind (and what a pair of behinds, I might add). The trail led down to the Rock Creek Park Police Horse Training Stables, where I spotted Just Tish and Just Neomah playfully snapping their tight hashing undergarments in a bid for attention. A curious stallion stood at attention.

At this point I noticed that Never Saw Em Cumming disappear into the woods, and after satisfying some basic instinct in the underbush, she emerged with a pair of antlers, and stuffed he horns in her butt crack. We all dithered around the stable area until someone yelled that the trail crossed the Taft bridge (Bridge with the big Pussy Cats on either end). Golden Showers dashed across the bridge to the Chinese embassy, which old cold warrior No. 2 cursed mightily and then went into the Kalorama section of Adams Morgan. It was here that Just Neomah was cited for wearing an uncertified running bra. It looked suspiciously like lingerie, and failed to adequately restrain the luscious fruits of her womanhood. Strangely, although every surrounding harrier took eager note of this violation, none of them seconded the objections.

As we plunged into the heart of Adams Morgan, I noticed Beer Slut and Semen on the Pew looking quite cosmopolitan. Labia Majorah looked good too, until she fell in a hole and opened a gash on her arm, almost getting another fat lip. We rambled up to the foot of Meridian Hill, which presented an awesome obstacle to lard-butted hashers such as myself. No Genitals cruised right by me as I wheezed up the hill into the park. Respecticle Testicle pranced into the Latino enclaves of Columbia Heights attempting to blend, "Hola amigos, me llamo Respectico Cojones," he warbled. Before long we congregated at the Beer Check which appeared like mirage out of the exhaust fumes of the barrio at the urban homestead of Cumsquat. I caught up with FRBs WOWO and Full Metal Balls. Tipper Whipper was limping around, but at least she had sense enough not to step in dog doody as ButtPlug did. I spotted Sandbox and welcomed her back to the hash. Hawaiian Puke misidentified Just Tish, and then smoothed it over by drooling and gawking at her incredible form.

After the beer check, the pack stopped traffic and crossed 16th Street en masse whereupon Short Bus Bitch led us down a series of blind alleys, all of them bad trails or back checks. Bad Ditch reported that Cyclops stepped on a dead squirrel as we headed down to the zoo area of Rock Creek where the Turkey and Eagle split. In the interest of yellow journalism, I decided to go Eagle. What a big boner. After running up and back in a confused glut of half-witted confusion along the creek, and annoying all of the bicyclists in the process, we went into the Zoo. It was pleasant enough to start out, but then the trail went vertical for at least a solid mile. By this time I was delirious but I thought I heard Puts It Out marvel at the fact that he didn't need to perform CPR on anyone going up the hill, because if he did rip clothes off some guys, he might find they were wearing pink panties that matched his own collection, or something like that. At the top of the hill, we whizzed by the Zoo Bar and headed down Connecticut Ave to the Marriott and chugged into the finish line.

Special thanks to our Brew Crew because we care: BigBirdTurd and IvyLicker

Violations: Big Dick No Brains for double dipping (trying to sign in twice and receive double credit); Just Matt for missing the start and getting a speeding ticket in the process; Comes in a Sailor for headbutting a metro train and cracking the window; Well Drilled and Tipper Whipper for being "mole hares" by setting their own checks and trail marks. Just Jean for changing her name to Gina for a vacation to Italy;Just Neomah for uncertified running bra; the Hares for the shitty back check 7 in the Park; and a special violation for Full Metal Balls for turning 50! Geez he looks good for an old fuck.

Virgins/Declarations of Hos & Penis Gallery:
Daryl Jones - "Get a grip on yourself"
Stacy Gardner - "Show me your upright and locked position"
Andy Ward - "Let's do it doggie style"
Rich McManus - "Show us your dick"
Herb Brock - (missing in action)
Ed Pauker - "Let's do the wild thing"
Bryan Fratello - "Make me Purr"
Laura Stryjewski - (Duh, I missed that one)

Visitors:
Wonder Woman (Baltimore/Annapolis H3)
DapperSapper (Hogtown H3)
Jim Cogswell (Madagascar H3)
Dick Locastro (EWH3)
Double D (Denver H3) -- Also hared trail!!

Long Time No Seers:
Porta Potter
Cums in a Sailor
Roger Pickering
AnalVersaries:
Sandbox 25
Bad Ditch 50
Nippless Cage 50
Vominatrix 100
Hawaiian Puke 150
Cyclops 269

Fond Farewell: to Semen on the Pew who leaves for Croatia soon.

Announcement: Red Dress Run 2001 will be at Cap City Brewery at Union Station featuring our own Red Dress Ale.

On-On, MiteyTite

A new feature in the Hash Trash!!!

Anonymous Hash questions asked and answered.

Missing Poultry

Fucking G____ asks: "Yo, Mitey, don't take this da wrong way or nuthin', but what da fuck happened to Duck Job? I really like his shit, in the trash I mean. Did he get laid off the scribin' job or did he maybe get sawed in half and shoved in a wood chipper up in Minnesota by that schemin' $50 Bitch?"

MT: No, no it's nothing like that. Duck Job is fine. He just looks like he was sawed in half. I have reports that he is incarcerated on child abuse charges due to a silly mix-up in writing the classic Ducky Le Pew hash trash. He just made a few unfortunate remarks about all the perverted acts he wants to do with the young and delectable Short Bus. The authorities are trying to carbon date some of her curly hair samples. When they find out she really is 18, I'm sure that Duck Job will return to us, albeit a little bowlegged from that prison honeymoon.

Speaking of honeymoons, a certain Dumb B____ has a question about a contagious marital infection that's going around the hash: "I really haven't been feeling myself lately. Is it true that I cut off all my hair and agreed to get married after getting loaded at an on-on-on? I mean she's got a great rack and puts up with loads of my shit, but what was I thinking?"

MT: Yes, I'm afraid it's true D. B____, you are getting hitched to a cute little hash co-dependent. Remember kids, it's your choice. Be cautious or be nauseous. Note that dark beer tends to be a tad bit stronger, can distort perceptions of reality, and let your wee pecker do the thinking for you. You may be thinking about popping a brew or popping a cherry, but you could end up popping the question instead.