IN BEER WE TRUST
WHITE HOUSE HASH HOUSE HARRIERS

Run #653

Date: June 7, 1999

Hares: Love Me Tender, Blows the Cradle, No Butts,No Glory

Beer Crew: Drop Box, Steamer’s Bitch

Location:On the Waterfront, Georgetown, DC

View from the Pack

We met at the beautiful Washington waterfront/harbor. Where the beautiful people hang out. And now hashers. Property values could be heard declining.

As the scribe and Number 2 were nearing the start, Betty Crotcher came breathlessly around the corner, warning us there was no bag vehicle. WHAT!!! This was an outrage. She graciously allowed the scribe, and about 100 other people to put their bags in her car—a sort of impromptu bag vehicle. The car was so weighted down, it listed left. (by the way, thanks Betty!!).

On-on we went, past the Marion Berry look alike (rumor had it, it was him) sitting at The Sequoia sucking down cocktails with a crony. As Dumb Blond said, “I wouldn’t know Berry if I was selling coke to him.”

After a lovely serenade to the after work crowd with our Mormon Tabernacle Choir rendition of the White House Hash song and “Father Abraham”, we took off down trail. This led straight through the dining area of one of the outdoor restaurants (table for two please) out to Water Street, a right up some numbered street, through someone’s yard, to the canal.

Whew. At this point, we began to look for the beer van ‘cause it was at least 1000 degrees and the sweat was not pouring, but spewing off of us. Hare Blows the Cradle, was leaving hare’s arrows as she went to ensure less whining (fat chance). Latin Anal-ist was spotted on the canal checking her Audobon guide to North American Birds trying to figure out what the creature sitting in the canal was. Pay Per View, our resident birder, said it was a Heron, but LA thought otherwise.

A prerequisite run along Rock Creek Parkway brought us to a sharp left up the “Dead Grass” Billy Goat Hill. The grass was dry and sharp. It jammed its way through ones socks deep into the flesh. The top of this hill was quite a sight. About 30 hashers, bending over, butts in the air, picking this grass out of their skin. I’m all tingly just thinking about it.

Wilburrr kept bending over in the street to pick the grass out of his shoe, causing one Metro bus to collide with a car and a dog from the doggie play group in the park to try to commit doggie suicide. Then he accosted a neighbor, asking to be hosed (if you ask the scribe, he’s been hosed for years) down. She happily obliged, and then began to hose down all who ran by her. Such joy one has never seen (on the part of the runners). Mighty Tightthought the lady was sprinkling beer on everyone and was sorely disappointed when he discovered it was water. Pussy With a Porpise and Throbbing the Cradle were seen ducking into the lady’s bushes, but she ran into the house to get a gun and that was the last we saw of them.

With a serious sense of deja vu, true trail turned into a grassy wooded area where we ended up at the drinking fountain that spits. It was the same fountain we passed on the Marathon/Fellatio Throw Spring Planting run. Fortunately, no one planted their face into the dirt this time. At this point, Fag offered to carry Tez’s Smirnoffup the butt kicking hill, but she politely and smartly, declined. Blows The Cradle, whipped jauntily by us, yelling “Beer Near”. So we walked faster up the hill, to find not only the beloved beer van, but SPRINKLERS!! Ah, its good to be wet!

At the Beer Stop, Steamer’s Bitchwas serving up ice cold water to all. While Drop Box looked a little lonely on the beer side of the truck. You KNOW it is a hot day when hashers head for the water BEFORE the beer.

Once refreshed we started out again, uphill of course, this is Georgetown after all, and things get a bit fuzzy here (heat exhaustion). We ran through Georgetown U, down the Exorcist Steps (I think the 666 run should be held here) and to the canal. Blowin’ In the Wind, Pussy Whipped, and assorted other wankers decided they did not smell bad enough, so they swam across the water (the water is so polluted here, one can WALK across the water, but not hashers).

At this point I’d like to mention the KY Belly was seen “elevator” hashing. He was seen on an elevator and in the Metro but couldn’t make it to the hash due to some lame-o excuse like “walking the dog”…pah-leeze. Making the dog hold it builds character.

Also, the scribe feels compelled to mention Looney…not for any particular reason, only because he whines, and so does Exhibit A & B...okay. Now I’m done.

Alternative View, a rear view

What do you get on the first Monday evening trail of the summer with the White House Hash?

And the second question of the week…. What's the difference between Northern Virginia police officers and Washington DC police officers? Answer: Northern Virginia officers view hash activities as corruptive and usually disband the Circle, while DC officers stop by to gaze with envy at our activities, only wishing they could join in!

So went the #1 Monday trail of the summer of 1999! Here's to many more Mondays…

On-On, DangeRouslyClose to Oh!Feelya Butts

The Circle

Virgins:
Gordon, Jim, Matt, Cheryl, Vanessa, Jacklyn, Tim, Nate, Chris, Jessica, Janet, Dave, Jared, Melissa, David, Jill, Mike, and Lief. I’m sure someone made them all come but, god knows I couldn’t hear a bloody thing!!

Visitors:

Naming:
Just Randy. Apparently Just Randy likes to get randy in the Metro. He is often seen offering women a Metro Card, just so he can chat them up. So, henceforth and forever more, in the White House Hash and in the World of Hashing, Just Randy will be known as Metro Ho.

And then we broke wind and left. No. Wait. That was merely the smell of the Potomoc. Maybe we SHOULD have broke wind it would have only improved the air quality.

On On and On...... BiteMeElmo



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