A mere week after George W. Bush was inaugurated as the President of the United States and the free world of hashing, the new mismanagement of the White House Hash House Harriers (the only remaining superpower of the DC hashing world) boldly seized office. This brazen act effectively delegitimatizes W's authority over our band of beer drinking miscreants. Was this a coup d'etat d'hash?

No, genital reader, there was no re-count, lawsuit, or confirmation hearings to protest those named to mismanagement, because for the most part they ran unopposed. According to Black Box: "the only positions of power most WH4 hashers are interested in is doggie-style and woman-on-top." Thus we had a peaceful transition of power, from the "Grand Old Drunken Party" to the "Wild Ass Keg Party," and the members of the 2000 WH4 Administration were seen jubilantly rejoicing at being freed from any and all mismanagement responsibility.

The transition of power occurred at the annual Christmas Party, a veritable Black Tie and Reeboks Ball. In an obvious ploy to further their agenda one last time before stepping down, the outgoing mismanagement made several eleventh hour rulings. In particular, outgoing GM Big Bird Turd awarded himself and his cronies several rear-end-of-the-year awards. At this point, a pregnant chad (Wax On Wack Off) cried out in protest, demanding a recount for On-On of the Year (Crystal City Restaurant Titty Bar, Hares: Raise My Titanic, FAG, KY Belly). But the Secretary of the Hash, Perk-a-Set hastily certified the results, since members of her administration won. That brought on a deluge of unfair comments about her hideous makeup and second-rate wardrobe. What do you expect from a former Cock-Tail waitress?

Then outgoing Hare Raiser, Put It Out, as his last desperate act in office, pardoned M.I.C-OchShootsBlanks who was on the banned-hare-list for the war crime of aiding and abetting Marines who set the absurd Marine Corps. Birthday death march last fall.

Then the old mismanagement was officially ousted and the new mismanagement was inaugurated. The new Grand Mistresses, Raise My Titanic and $50 Bitch, promised to be uniters not dividers, representing hashers of all beliefs, drinkers of lite and dark alike. ($50 Bitch was later seen applying a lick-on tattoo to Goldilocks' ass in a grand bipartisan gesture.) Raise My Titanic then sang a song to explain how she got her name, with $50 Bitch signing for the deaf and drunk. It was a moving song, describing how RMT got her name. Basically, she gave some guy a huge boner. Then, new Religious Advisor, Put It Out, promised to take care of all the virgins in his own special way. PIO also promised a chicken in every pot and a naked chick in every tub.

The new Scribes Mitey Tite and Duck Job promised to execrete their duties fairly and accurately (Translation: everyone will be misrepresented equally in the Trash on a regular basis, there will be many fabrications of outlandish behavior, and rumors, innuendo and outright lies will always be warmly received).

The new Hash Cashes, Watergate and FAG, pledged to be bitchy when collecting money and screw up the run totals of hashers who ask what their run number is at every damn hash.

KYBelly will serve dual roles as Hare Raiser and SongMeister, which should be interesting because WH4 hasn't had a SongMeister in three years. Invoking the example of V.P. Cheney, KYB promised to take on every task available no matter how often he goes into beer-induced cardiac arrest. KYB said he would surf the Internet for new songs, and since he'll be singing alone most of the time, he promised to take voice lessons to spare our dainty ears.

IvyLicker is the new Haberdasher and Snatch Shot is the new Hash Flash. Together they are plotting how they can clothe the hash and still get pictures of as much T&A as possible. SnatchShot revealed "we now have the means to email compromising pictures of hashers directly to employers." There was little turnover in the brew crew, which obviously means they luv their jobs....and WH4 luvs them…As long as they have beer!

Hash #752 - Christmas Party Recovery Hash

Sunday, January 28, 2001
Hares: Spinal Tap and Hasher Humper
Location/Hares: Chez Spinal/Humper

The next morning came quickly, with the previous night’s fanfare having subsided, the confetti and streamers all swept under the rug, and the glamorous and gleeful events of the WH4 Inaugural Ball already a hazy, distant memory. Most of us arrived at the Spinal/Humper abode dutifully hungover from the previous night's festivities, many still reeking of booze and smoke, with throbbing heads (among other things) and More than a Mouthful as dry as a Big Bird Turd in the Sahara desert. Fortunately, every hangover remedy known to man was available at Spinal's, as long as you define a hangover remedy as hair of the dog that bit you. I was enjoying a Bloody Mary, while Spits it Out and No Genitals were sucking down Champagne like dancers at some of the finer establishments in town.

Black Box and Mellow Foreskin Cheese showed up and boasted that while driving to the hash they had seen flour on the street, so they recon’ed entire trail by car. That perfectly exemplified the promise of this new era of compassionate hash-atism, in which trails will be set for poor and disadvantaged hashers who help themselves.

We munched on the huge spread of snacks Hasher Humper had provided while waiting for the 11 AM hash time start, which turned out to be more like 11:30. We were actually waiting for the new Religious Advisor, Put It Out, and the Hash Cash, FAG, who both disappeared after laying the Super Bowl hash with $50 Bitch and me. We deduced that Fag must have "recruited" PIO for the other team, if you know what I mean. Lucky for them, the new administration has upheld the “Don’t ask don’t tell” policy of the previous administration.

So we circled up and sang Father Abraham. Apparently, we were singing a little too loud for MicroSoft, who was groaning about a terrible headache, surely the first of many to be had in the upcumming year. Just as we started the hash, For Sale or Rent saw PIO and Fag cumming and even spotted a yellow stain on Fag’s blue shorts, and thus was born the first sex controversy of the new administration. At press time, PIO was set to issue an apology to the entire hash on the condition that he did not have to admit any wrongdoodling.

So, we began hash-walking since this was a fat boy trail and, as previously noted, we were wiped out from the night before. However, Black Box and $50 Bitch were speed-walking at Olympic pace, taking full advantage of the debilitated state of the hash for the once in a lifetime opportunity to be FRB’s.

Since the trail was the same old trail that Spinal Tap sets every recovery run (why fix it if it ain’t broke?), there’s no need to go into gory detail. If you want specifics of the trail, ask Czech My Bush , who had never done this or any hangover hash, and seemed extremely enamored with the fat-boy concept. CMB and Bullshit plan to lobby the new administration for an all fat boy hash policy.

We arrived at the first of two beverage checks, where we warmed up our tummies with hot, mulled cider. It was at this point that International House of Organs tried to explain that her name is really AddaDicktoMe, but the new GM’s were rushing to present legislation to block the name change.

Then we ventured off on the 2^nd section of the trail. Two of the previous WH4 administration decided that this was the perfect opportunity to test their sexual prowess, now that they are out of the public limelight and free to do as they please. Big Bird Turd put his best moves on Late Cummer, lavishing her with complements on her brand new 2000 WH4 Mismanagement fleece. He seemed particularly interested in the embroidery and pretended to examine it, but was actually just fondling LC’s nipple. She is currently consulting an attorney, considering pressing charges. Meanwhile, WDFK was hitting on new GM, $50 Bitch, bestowing his most seductive kisses upon her fine ass.

Then we came to the 2nd beverage check, again mulled Cider, in Spinal/Humper's driveway.

When the 2nd beverage check is at the same location as the Circle, you have to be suspicious. Moreover, you have to be an idiot if you expect the third part of the trail to amount to much. In this case, the rest of the trail was 100 yards of hash and then a back check back to the driveway. Believe it or not, Hops and Trouser Snake actually fell for it.

After the back check, we were On-In, with the brew crew, Jail House Cock and Barney's Bitch, living up to the campaign promises by providing in copiouse amounts that amber liquid we all love so much. Bramble Bush and Hymen Dickover were joyfully partaking.

We circled up in the back yard. Unfortunately, the new administration was not fully in place at that time, so some of the record keeping for this hash was shaky. There was one virgin, a tall and extremely buxom blonde who left her name and number on a matchbook cover that unfortunately was “misplaced.” There were between 4 and 6 visitors, 2 from Denver including UltraWimp, and two from somewhere in PA, one with a European accent. They know who they are.

Violations were:

Just Alain for running on a fat boy trail and checking the sole check despite the fact that everyone knew where the trail was going.

JagQueen & IHOR/Addadicktome – Cinderellas in leather

Put It Out - late for 1st day on the job

BBT – public fondling of a harriette

WoWo – bad impersonation of Art Garfunkle

After the circle we ate lots of food, including pasta with several sauce options, turkey and stuffing, and other misc. side items. Then we watched Leaky Tampon’s Red Dress Run 2000 video, which was absolutely hysterical.

Hash # 753 Super Bowl Hash
Sunday, January 28th, 2001
Location: The Pines of Florence, Falls Church

Hares: New WH4 Mismanagement. Hares in Chief: Put It Out, FAG, Duck Job, $50 Bitch

The new WH4 Mismanagement called the hash to order for the first run of the new regime. Neither the hares nor the runners were looking or smelling very fresh due to the inaugural ceremonies, and the grueling naked confirmation hearings that went late into the night in the lower house of M.I.C-OchShootsBlanks/TargetPractice.

As Grand Mistresses $50Bitch and Titanic attempted to assemble a quorum, hashers lined up to pay the head tax (who gave head?) to Watergate, incuming Secretary of the Hash Treasury. Watergate promptly issued new monetary regulations: hash payments are to be submitted in exact change, using crisp bills that face in the same direction. We were told to expect plenty of fiscal bondage and discipline for noncompliance.

Religious Advisor Put It Out delivered the invocation, praising the spirit of hashing and belief in a power higher than beer alone.

(We think it was Schlitz Malt Liquor with a chaser of Pucker). In his benediction to the hash, PIO proclaimed that "you selfish bastards need sign your fat asses up to do some haring."

As the limp members of the hash set off across Lee Highway to pick up trail, $50B set the new tone of compassionate perversionism by driving up to the pack and issuing some faith-based guidance: "It's two blocks to the left, you goddamn frickin' idiots." She then enforced her executive order by running down slacking half-wits MicroSoft, Oral Report and Grape Nuts.

We soon faced the first crisis of the new hash administration as GBOF and the FRBs encountered numerous BTs in the streets of Falls Church. The pack turned on Duck Job, calling for a special prosecutor to press charges that the hares were covering up trail. "What did you lay and when did you lay it," spouted a foaming Mellow Foreskin Cheese, Esq. Hippie chick wannabes, Missed Erections and Vominatrix shouted their anarchist slogans: "Fight the flour power" and "No more globalization of watery macro brews." "No Justice, no Piece" warned TipHerWhipHer, BlowMyMind and Celtic Climax.

Exit polling of the (George Herbert) Walkers also showed disturbing trends. Vatican II confessed that walkers felt disenfranchised. "The runners are forming blockades to limit walker access to beer stops and shooter swilling," said V2. Never Saw 'Em Cumming raised another issue: "The runners are voting with their beer guts, early and often, depriving walkers of their right to equal erection." But runner representative Poodle Fucked held a contrary view: "There's no need for a recount of beers or erections. It's too damn bad if the walkers can't poke into holes or find their polls." Perhaps most disturbing, a mob of walkers led by BigDickNoBrains, Bonnie Brewer and TastesLikeTurkey chanted "Keep Out the Bushes" and "Keep the Ho Alive," betraying a sexual preference for the Perkaset-Fussy-Turd administration over TeamTitanic/$50Bitch.

IN OTHER NEWS…The following were fingered during the run, at the scene of the beer stop and hot cum-rum shooter stop or ratted out at the circle. Violations were issued to:

Vominatrix for complaining about her "flat tires" and getting her shoes smudged with mud.

Goofy & Bullshit for shameless auto-hashing.

Mr. Softie for having a hairy pelt.

Blow Job for wearing a running shirt.

Backsnatch for his entire family being at the hash (Sticky Throttle, Clayton, and Snatch's Little Helper) for some sort of WVA ho-down.

Just Doug for soliciting beer and children.

BiteMeElmo for being named President of NOVA runners, and having a full photospread.

BigBirdTurd for driving his cutesy little Mercedes with the top down in frigid weather.

Almond Joy for excessive gas on trail.

Goldilocks for taunting a dog on trail.

Watergate for phone sex on trail.

Special Crimes & Flagrant Fouls:

FLAB for leaving the WH4 for Canada, the Hogtown Hash, and regular relations with her husband (whatever that might be), and for whining that WH4 had turned her into an actual runner. We'll miss her a lot (sobs & sniffles). And Bad Bush for flitting off to Brazil for three months of wild partying and sex games.

Beer Bitch: Just Jamie (who needs a name).

Virgins/Who Made Em Cum:

Just Katie/Blows My Mind

Just Tracy/Beats His Meat

Just Doug/Bonnie Brewer

Just Clayton/Backsnatch

Just Chuck/A Self-Cummer

Just Katharine/Bonnie Brewer

Just Anna Marie/Just Jane

Visitors: (spelled on phonics)

Goldilocks –Prague, Queen Rainy - Berkshire

Ultralung- Denver Lower Lucan - Berkshire

Analversaries: M.I.C-OchShootsBlanks - 25, Grape Nuts - 25, SirFucksALot -25, BackSnatch - 75, FAG - 75, Dumb and Dumber - 75, Trouser Snake - 150

Hashit Award - Perkaset was AWOL so she remains the keeper of the Hashit.

Naming: The one and only solemn occasion brought Just Alain into the circle of shame. Assorted suggestions bearing on flying and wanking were discussed, but in the end we settled on Palm Pilot.

As the sun set on the hash, the pack headed into the Caverna for Super Bowl festivities. A good bowl of pasta was had by all.

Co-Scribed in the Year of our Hash 2001,

Duck Job and MiteyTite