Date: 24 January 1999
Hares: Fussy Bitch, $50 Bitch, Driving Ms. Bitch, and Put the Bitch Down
Location: Lyons Park, Fillmore & Pershing, Arlington, VA
It was a bitchin' hash. There was plenty of bitching going on.
The day started with torrential downpours, which gave way to merely gray skies. That was not the bitching part of the hash. The previous night had been WH4 Christmas party and many of the assembled bleary, eyed deviants were feeling, shall I say, a bit under the weather?
The hares, in their infinite bitchiness decided to use their own brand of Checks. Each check contained three arrows and they claimed there were no "wrong" ways to go at the checks. Well at least this is what the scribe heard, but then the scribe was a wee bleary herself. Fools that we were (hey we're hashers!) we bought that story and off we went. The wrong way of course. Eventually we found trail (or it may have been markings made by the surveying crew, who knows? Who cares?).
Trail led us through various areas, but the best part, other than the beer, was the field of oozy, goopey, red mud, down a hill, through a fence, through a cemetery (nothing like running over dead people on a Sunday to make you glad you're alive); over a wall, over another fence, into a parking garage, over hill and dale and to the end.
Along the way we encountered a Yucca stop. What, you ask, is a Yucca stop? Don't know for certain, but it was a shot of vile liquor, probably intended to keep us drugged and easy (oh. Wait. That just described most - make that -all of the hash).
After experiencing the joys of Yucca, we encountered a creek and a tunnel. True and hardy folk would have checked for trail by entering the dark , dank confines of the tunnel. But being we are neither true nor hardy (or too bright), we followed Drinks on Me Bud, who said, "You can do it and not get wet. But then where's the fun in that." He may have been referring to crossing the creek, but I think not.
Trail highlights:
Hello once again my fellow hashers... this is DangeRously Close with your Alternate View for the regular Sunday Trail, The Bitchin Hash!I arrived along with Finger Pickin Good, having just cum from Spinal Tap & Hasher Humper's where we had the On-On-On for the Hangover Hash. As we pulled in, and searched for a place to park, it was obvious that there was going to be good attendance in spite of the weather and the state everyone was in following the Holiday Party the night before. I parked about a block away, but I was lucky.
Everyone gathered, as Needle In Thread, our new Hash Cash, and his assistant, Butt Plug, checked everyone off and took our cash. Our new Religious Advisor, Great Balls of Fire called order and nominated someone - I don't remember who - to lead Father Abe. After Father Abe, Chief Bitch Fussy gave us our instructions; "there are no checks and no BTs, only Witchy Ways on trail"??? I'm not sure everyone really understood what she was talking about, as everyone just stood in the circle with dazed and confused looks on their faces. Then again, this could have just been the look of hashers having partied too much the night before!
Finally we were off... Fussy B leading those with an Alternate view. People I remember from trail included: Kiel Bastard, Black Box, Leaky Tampon, Raise My Titanic, Titanic's virgin (just somebody), Great Puck, Betty Crotcher, Needle In Thread, Das Beaver, Spinal Tap, WhereDaFaKhawe, and me, DangeRously Close. Also, Drop Box, Big Bird Turd, and Hymen Dickover were with us to the beer check, and then they headed (who said "head"?) off with the runners.
Fussy lead us through the streets of Arlington, commenting as we went, on how the runners were completely off trail already! Wow, mass confusion all around. We walked us a street through a neighborhood of cute houses, and came out to a mud lot. Now most of us thought that for sure we'd be skipping this lot. But, when we saw Fussy trudge straight in, we knew we were wrong. Across this VERY muddy lot we trudged and trudged and trudged, taking each step very carefully. We slipped, we slid, we sunk, and we gained 5 pounds of mud on each of our shoes. Then, we headed ("head" again??) down a steep wooded hill onto a sidewalk, where it was quite obvious from the muddy footprints that the runners had been. This wonderfully clean ? sidewalk ran alongside a street. We followed the street and crossed several other streets rounding corners and climbing hills until we came to a HUGE thrift store. It was at this point that Big Bird Turd questioned, "Black Box, isn't this your favorite thrift store?" An affirmative reply was heard and so we crossed the street to the lot of the store. I think some folks thought we were going in to do some shopping, but alas, around the back of the store to the lot behind and the beer van we headed. (YES, "head" again.) Here we met up with the runners who obviously found trail and were gathered to consume beer! The runners departed as soon as we arrived and so we were drinking alone.
After sufficient amounts of beverage were consumed, our private hare, Fussy Bitch, gave us two choices on how we could proceed; we could go that way, or we could go that way. We chose that way, which lead us back out by the thrift store and onto some major road. Along this road we walked, and walked, and walked. I remember hearing a conversation about was how Raise My Titanic was f*cking a virgin!?! Kiel Bastard made inquiries as to how exactly to go about such a feat. Please My Lady Titanic tell us - inquiring minds want to know!! Meanwhile, Titanic's virgin was walking along rather silently... I wonder why? We were tooted at, hollered at, and almost hit by passersby in their vehicles. We strategically walked across an exit ramp where off to our right we spied Spinal Tap marching toward us up a hill. On we walked, and on, and on, and on, just like Eveready Bunnies. Soon, we were at a small shopping plaza. We rounded the end and there was the On-In.
Circle was short and sweet as five (YES, FIVE!!) police cars converged upon us. Sorry to Big Bird Turd and WhereDaFaKhawe, as they've now lead two strange Circles. Maybe eventually, they'll have the opportunity to run a complete and thorough Circle!
So went another Sunday trail... the Bitch's Trail was surely Bitchin'! Until next we meet... many happy trails,
On-On DangeRously Close
Can't remember a single violation (don't be silly, why would the scribe WRITE that stuff down), but the virgins were:
| Name | Who Made Them Come |
|---|---|
| Matt | CockForceOne |
| Larry | RaiseMyTitanic |
| Mary (the Virgin Mary nonetheless), Charles, and Miriam | courtesy of TitsAhoy |
| Robert, (another)Matt, and Carla, who all came on their own | members of the "get a life" club |
| Heather | ButtPlug |
| Glenn | DropBox |
| Mark, a true wanker being a Brit and all | unknown hasher from Atlanta |
Seen running scurrying away from Arlington's finest (we must have frightened a good number of the good citizens of Arlington, because this scribe, whose math is spotty at best, counted FOUR Arlington cop cars and FIVE cops) who obviously felt left out so they joined our circle, were TwoLips, Snot Cicle, Phone Sachs, GetsitForFree, BrambleBush, Bob the Virgin, (just)Kate, (just) Bonnie, Vominatrix, Spinal Tap, Burnt Sox and Seven Minutes (who autohashed), Put It Out, Hawiian Puke and a whole lot 'o' others, who, not wanting to violate the conditions of their parole, sprinted to their cars and called it a day.
oNoN... BiteMeElmo