White House Hash House Harriers

For Directions and Information call 202-PUD-JAM0/202-232-HASH

Check us out on line: www.dchashing.org/wh4

"In Beer we Trust"

August 13, 2001

Warning: This paper contains 30% recycled news clips, pizza rinds and little black books found in Condit's Dumpster. May cause lying to spouses, paramours, parents of dead girl, and police. Alcohol intensifies this effect. Lie detector test not advised.

Hash # 785 -- The Search for Chandra Hash

Start: P Street Beach near Dupont Circle

Hares: $50 Bitch, Cyclops, Daddy's Dick, Duck Job & Jiffy Lube

110 Hashers gathered at P Street Beach to search for Chandra. Just before hash time, a huge downpour of rain wiped out most evidence of flour and chalk marks, so $50Bitch and Daddy's Dick ran off to get re-laid in Con-did-it Country.

We had invited Congressman Condit to help us find the body. His attorney told us Condit was tied up, but O.J. could help us find the real killer. The Body did show up, but she looks nothing like Chandra. Stool Sample offered testimony that The Body likes to wear a frizzy black Chandra wig in bed and tie him down with tasteful red neck ties, but she kneed him in the balls before he could elaborate on his statement. Tez Smirmnoff Smirk said she couldn't remember the last time she wore a tie naked other than a recent job interview.

Pulls It Out admitted that he would like to harness Condit's ability to get chicks. He promised to use this power only for good, not evil. His virgin, just Barb, was skeptical, pointing out that Pulls used his broken leg to get special "physical therapy" only about 300 times in the last two months.

Meanwhile, Jiffy Lube explained how we should be looking for clues to Chandra's disappearance in envelopes at key checks along the way. Then Puts It Out called in congressional staff alumni to lead Father Abraham. Neither SnatchkeyKid nor Telecum owned up having an affair with a member of Congress, but further investigation revealed several hasher dalliances with large and small members of Congress.

Milk Me, who has been reported missing from the hash for several months, admitted to meeting with Condit on agricultural issues. It appears that the Congressman lured Milk Me into a locked storage bin for intimate dairy bill mark-ups. He repeatedly yanked her by the pigtails during these sessions and did not deny also having relations with Two Lips on a Dyke, another missing hasher. In spite of it all, Milk Me defended him, saying "he calls me his little moo-moo when I milk him" and "his sickly wife can't make the cream rise the way I can."

BREAKING NEWS.... We have a statement from the Congressman's Orifice on the WH4 search for Chandra in Mr. Cumdum's neighborhood.

"Concerning the widespread insertions that I had intimate relations with women in the White House Hash, I can unequivocally state that I did not have intercourse to completion with No Genitals. This cums in the face of many other erogenous statements about my relations with sexually active female hashers. Short Bus, Saddle Up and Turkey Timer are just good friends, and although I did dispose of their panties in a trashcan in Alexandria, I'm sure one of my staffers can explain that somehow."

Meanwhile out on trail, the pack ran up to Chandra's apartment building in Dupont Circle. Bullshit grabbed an envelope from a bush and we ran on to Connecticut Ave and jumped on the Red Line heading uptown. It was there that I quizzed H2Ho and Sloppy Ho as to why Condit is such a babe magnet.

H2Ho: "He's kind of cute in a domestic way, like a male Martha Stewart psychopath. It's that vaguely maniacal look in his eyes that keeps you guessing. You don't know whether he's going to ask you about farm policy or sever your head and grind your torso into his favorite meatloaf recipe."

Sloppy Ho: "He looks like a little boy. I wouldn't mind babysitting him instead of that cock-blocking tramp Twatsssuuuppp. I'd put that member in motion. Forget the filibuster, fill this up buster."

After overhearing this conversation, Backsnatch, EatMeForBreakfast and BigDickNoBrains were simultaneously aroused and repulsed. Cum to think of it, Cliterature and Swings Both Ways left huge puddles on their seats as they left the Metro. I can only hope it was sweat.

Asshopper and Worldwide said that when they moved to Washington they warned their son, Roll Over Bitch, not to become a Clinton clone and expect Jewish interns, coked-up flight attendants, and minister's daughters to crawl under his desk to take dick-tation. But the boy is head-strong and admires Condit's service to attractive constituents.

We got off the train at Cleveland Park and ran into the woods at the end of Quebec St. The pack softly cooed Chandra instead of on-on, hoping to coax her to come out of hiding. Dairy Queen and FuckemDanno searched the Klingle Mansion, and then we all huffed along a long stretch of Rock Creek, where Shellacking the Bishop dove into the water and Duck Job submerged himself in potholes looking for signs of Chandra's corpus delectable.

Suddenly, there was a great commotion up ahead. Our prayers were answered as 8aPuss shouted, "Fuck Chandra, I found the beer check." Yes it was true, and the beer flowed like water in front of Condit's infamous apartment in Adams Morgan. Krafty made a cameo appearance sporting strangely Condit-like hair. Big Bang and Snatch Shot immediately called America's Most Wasted to report this suspicious behavior.

All too soon, we were back on the Chandra-thon again, checking out the two suicide bridges over Rock Creek to no avail, and then sprinted down Connecticut back to P Street.

At the end of the run, I realized that Twatsssuuuppp was missing. I imagined a horrible fate had befallen her, knowing her penchent for older men and life in the fast lane. Just then she sauntered up with a bottle of Tequila, complaining about the press coverage of Chandra.

Twatsssuuuppp: "I can relate to Chandra. She has a voluptuous bosom and a cute ass, and if you forget to wear a sports bra, like I did tonight, and you walk around in these big, pink flip-flops and chug Cuervo, it doesn't mean that you're some brainless, slutty bimbo, does it? Wait, let me re-phrase that."

Sloppy Ho cut her off, demanding to know where she had been, and more importantly, how much was left in the bottle of tequila. Sloppy pointed out drinking half a bottle of tequila is not the best strategy when attempting to flee from psycho-killers like Condit, Diaper, SlipKnot, Mr. Softie, FingerPickinGood, Big Bird Turd Mellow4SkinCheese, and The Pimp of Sarajevo.

The Circle

PIO appointed Just Fanny to be beer bitch, we denounced the hares, and honored Bullshit for his last hash before going off to Tampa, just before we were chased away by DC police who were in hot pursuit of donuts and beer instead of Chandra.

BrewCrew: Horny Toad, WhereDaFaKhawe

Virgins (and sponsors): Just... Barb (Pulls), Dave (Fanny), Priscilla (Fanny) James (WOWO), Dave (Rambo), Erica (Test Tube Baby), Chris (Telecum), Ken (Kumsoon), Morrie, Kristin.

Visitors: Road Kill -- San Francisco Bay Area H3,

Caminito -- Buenos Aires H3

Long time no seers (dead-asses missing 4 weeks): Asshopper, Deposit in the Rear, Have Dick Will Travel, Horny Toad, Milk Me, Pulls It Out, Pulls Out Early, Stool Sample, Tastes Like Turkey, Telecum, The Body, The Hasher Formally Known As Prince, Two Lips On A Dyke, Watch Her Blow.

OnOn … MiteyTite