Hash # 774

Start: Woodley Park, Omni Shoreham Hotel

What can I say about this trash, other than hashing can give you a bad case of writer's block to go along with a persistent case of cock-block, poison ivy rash, and diaper rash. But as I recall, the hash started with a good old rip roaring cat fight. I pulled into a parking spot near the Shoreham and began lathering up with ivy armor. Just as I was working up to the sensitive inner thigh area, two bitches on a mission came up to complain about the hash trash. Indiana Jones and the Temple of Poon wanted to know just what she had to do to get her anthropological ass into the trash. I started to suggest that we study the mating habits of south sea islanders in my bathtub with a bottle of tequila when Twatsssuuup whined about being overexposed in the trash.

Just as I was about to agree to tone down her appearances to maintain the Twatsssuuup mystique, the Twatster started ranting about her boobs needing at least two sports bras to keep them in proper form. "I can't tolerate any bounce." "The 2 bra method keeps me centered mentally and physically so I can follow trail, and the underwire acts like a mousetrap to keep prying hasher hands out."

Indiana Bones rolled her eyes and accused Twatsssuuup of padding her assets and exaggerating the cleavage. "Look bitch, my tits are just a big as yours, and I don't have any problem keeping them under control," said Indy. "And you'd better build a better mousetrap because the one you're wearing isn't keeping the boys from handling the goods and eating the cheese."

At this point, I consulted Sloppy Ho, aka Twatsssuuup's Babysitter for a second opinion. SloHo told Indiana Bones her tits were wrapped so tight she looked like an extra from Return of the Mummy. "I prefer to let Twatsssuuup's use her enhanced cleavage to snag guys who buy us drinks all night long. As soon as she falls on her face (and it happens all the time), I move in on the cute ones and give Twatsssuuup the sloppy seconds, SloHo said."

Just as this discussion was heating up, it was time to check in. Big Bird Turd offered to do more poling of the harriettes to firm up the data on bra preferences.

The parking lot of the hotel was clogged with confused tourists. Shellacking the Bishop had just about convinced two bus-loads of Japanese tourists to shell out 15 bucks a head for hand jobs from Delaware Queen and Kenny G-Spot, who were posing as Sumo wrestling female impersonators, when Puts It Out spoiled the deal by calling Major Fluffy Pussy Petter into the circle to explain the trail.

Major Fluffy told us how to play "Miner for an Exploding Vaginer," which is some sort of game the Major played in KosoBosnaSlavia, which used to be a country. But now I think it's an amusement park for amputees. Anyway, we were supposed to look for exploding bombs, which we would defuse by plucking cherries, and then wear some goofy looking sign around our necks. And then whoever got the most signs would either get to go into the Hairy Gateway or get Screwed by a Minor. No one paid any attention to this as Lazy Mutha Fucka's two saucy looking Virgins wandered around in much-too-tight shirts attempting to speak English.

PIO called the Virgins and Visitors into the circle for the anthem, and then the hares led us in Father Abraham. Soon we were off into the wilds of Rock Creek Park. I'm sure many hilarious anecdotes were recorded on my notepad during this romp through the woods but when I retrieved my dripping wet pad from my hashing shorts, all that was left was a note that Short Bus Bitch punched me in the stomach (as she does every week), then zoomed through traffic causing accidents.

However, I believe this rude behavior led to assorted acts of trail rage as the pack became congested and the heat and ozone meters reached code red. I'm rather sure I saw Bolo Head Rat and Dumb and Dumber trip over some logs only to have Great Balls of Fire tromp right over them. I'm almost positive I saw No Genitals and Ivy Licker elbow Orange Ruffie, Peeking Duck, and Sextra Credit into some trees and then Raise my Titanic clocked Pussy with a Porpoise and knocked Kumsoon flat on her ass. There were reports that Well Drilled threatened to flatten Spicy Tuna Roll and Snatchkey Kid with flour and a rolling pin. I also heard that Mellow Foreskin Cheese attempt to take a leak on Stool Sample and Telecum but aimed wide and hit BackSnatch in the eye.

Soon we came up to a check on Mass Ave at the Kahlil Gibran memorial. At this point I felt it was necessary to appeal to a higher power to stop the carnage. I turned to Dumb Blonde and Poodle Fucked and for a reading from The Prophet, Gibran's inspiring masterpiece. I think it went something like this:

"Speak to Us of Hash Love" (slightly amended)

And he raised his penis head and looked upon the people, and there fell a spurt of cum upon them. And with a great voice he said:

When love beckons to you -- follow him,

Because you hope his Dick is Fine and goes in deep.

And when the hairy octopus arms of Mr. Softie enfold you -- yield to him as you would to Bad Dog, though the sword hidden among the folds of WhereDaFaKwhawe's voluminous beer gut may wound you.

And when he speaks in dulcet tones like WOWO -- believe in him, though his beer breath Blows Like a Hurricane to shatter your dreams, and his ill wind blows up from the south to spoil your lay.

Even as he ascends to your chin and caresses your tender haunches, he launches a pearl necklace onto your Transparent Ds that quivers in the sun.

Like sheaves of corn Asshopper gathers you unto himself doggy style.

Like Assfinder, he threshes away the husks of your panties to make you naked.

He grinds you to the bone and kneads you until you are pliant.

And when you love him you should not say, "God, is three angry inches all I get," but rather, Two Lips in the Bush will make the sap of heaven flow.

Implore him to descend to the root of your KY Belly and shake the sweet berry until it clings to his tongue.

And you will surround him with a running stream until he drowns in God's sacred feast.

These incantations calmed the pack and we returned to true trail. But spiritual fortification only went so far. After scaling quite a few hills to get to the beer check the accusations flew. Gladiator reported that Just Dan, Just Darrin and Nasty Bumpo almost missed the BC due to Yank Me Out's misleading pack arrow into the woods. New White House Hasher Hairy Gateway told me to watch out for her fellow newbie Sigourney Beaver, who has a habit of chugging Pepto Bismol for a hangover cure and then spewing pink projectile vomit.

By the time we got to the circle the list of violations grew to include Screwed by a Minor for overactive nipple display, U.S. Boobs and Meatloaf for fashion statements, Lazy Mutha Fucka for bringing foreign lingerie models to the hash, including Just Heidy who got lost having no clue where America is, much less the circle, 8aPuss for snatching cherries out of season, and Holy Tit for running 100 miles nonstop and still not getting laid. Finally, it was noted that PIO repeatedly stepped in a pile of dog shit, which must simulate conditions in his home as he failed to notice the overpowering stench. And the lazy-ass hares were made to drink for improperly marking true trails with just two crosses.

Beer Bitch: Just Stephanie was appointed Beer Bitch. I learned that Just Stephanie has been locked in her parent's basement for most of the year in hopes that she would remain pure and chaste. Now that she's out, I noticed some social skills need work. She couldn't keep her skirt from getting hoisted around her neck, but she caught on to pouring the beer right away.

Special Award for Collecting Miner Signs: Dumb Blonde was awarded a special T-shirt for collecting 3 signs, popping 3 cherries or some combination.

Virgins: Heidy (Let me fly your continental),Hector (Let me ride your freeway), Jen (Erect this), Erica (Pull this), Jeff (Show us your cherry bombs), Michaela (I've got a short stack of dimes for you), Nicole (Show us your tits), Nancy, Laura and David.

Visitors: Eppie (Seattle), Tiko (San Jose) TwoCan and Scandal (Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Aus.).

Long Time No Seers: Ragin Cajun, Juicy, RudeBoy, Lazy Mutha Fucka, KY Belly, Balzing Straddles, Well Drilled, Wetspot.

A Solemn Occasion: Just Rob was called into the circle. His proud parents looked on as Mom suggested Faceplant, a nice safe moniker. But the unruly throng wanted to wallow in the muck of sexual dominance and male insensitivity references. There was a lot of support for Left Her Wet, Left Her Hangin and Cums and Goes, but we ended up with Roll Over, Bitch.