Remember that hash where both Frankie the Dick Thrusting Pussy Eater and GladHeAteHer were FRBs?  You don't remember that?  Never happened in the history of hashing you say?  Huh.  I guess it takes a special hare to make that happen.  Or three as it would be in last night's case.  I knew it was going to be good when the three hares pulled up to the hash in a tiny red clown car, jam packed on top of each other, while sipping big bottles of beer.

We had a pretty good turn out and some pretty worried looking virgins.  Just Tony, Just Josh, Just Heather, and Just Don.  Worried because Crouching Tiger, Hidden Cow Cock dropped a bottle of stout on the ground, spilling it's contents in the circle.  Free Mustache Rides and someone else risked ingesting glass shards and got down to lick it up.  Just Don could then be heard saying, "There are some real veteran drinkers here."  Yes, Just Don.  Yes we are.

Five Bucks, Five Bucks, Five Bucks led the circle and asked the three lovely hares to lay flour for us to follow and to confuse the virgins.  After they left, Five Bucks called in non-hash attire wearing wanks, whistleless wanks, and wanks who wore shiggy socks.  This last one would come back to bite him though.  And by bite him, I mean get poison ivy all over him.  And by get poison ivy all over him, I mean have an orgy in the woods.  That last one would come back to have any orgy in the woods all over him though.  On-Out!

The pack wandered around the parking lot and quickly found the theme of the trail, and that would be completely changing direction off of a single dot in the middle of the road.  Oh, you tricky hares!  A Turkey-Eagle split was observed by the front of the pack, but missed by almost everyone except for me, Frankie, and Is It InYouYet?  Finding ourselves in an unfamiliar position(the front), we blazed down the streets and quickly caught up to the walkers at a Song Check.  InYouYet joined the walkers while Frankie and I struggled to solve checks and find dots that went from road to sidewalk back to road again.  We wandered aimlessly until we realized that one of the hares was with the walkers and that it would probably be smart to see where she went.  This is how we solved 75% of the checks.   Hash smarter not harder.

We blazed through the poison ivy riddled woods of Forest Park and found a pair of loppers and a bottle of spray bleach.  Probably not used in a murder or anything.  Frankie grabbed them and carried them with him as we searched for the beer stop.  The other two hares saw us cumming before the beer stop and squatted down in the poison ivy.  Seduced by race-ist behavior, Frankie and I completely passed them.  InYouYet saw them and thought they were just two girls pissing in the woods.  He tipped his cap, and in his best British accent, apologized for the interruption.  He then urged them to continue their piss party.  Who said chivalry was dead?  Because of almost being caught, the hares never laid a BN or BS.  The Eaglers were yet to be seen, so we waited patiently for those slow ass mother fuckers to finally show up.  Frankie attached his newly found murder weapon to the bike rack of an innocent Muny opera goer's car in order to give them a fantastic story in their otherwise boring existence.  Now that's hash like behavior!

The second half of trail was almost as good as the first.  The hares laid a Hash Halt in a spot where the fireworks going off at the Muny could not be seen.  We then wandered straight down Clayton road back to the start.  Roadkill carried the beer stop cooler with him and surprised a local who asked for a beer and actually got one.  More hash like behavior!  Hairless Whisper(or whatever her name is) fell down and gave us a bloody reason to sing You Can Tell By The Smell, which we all enjoyed.

At the end circle, everyone drank beer and sang songs about their private parts.  Hashing is awesome.

The hares won hashshit for a myriad of reasons including breaking a bottle of beer, almost getting caught, and a shitty fireworks display.  They flashed their breasts though and transferred the winning hashshit duties to the runner up, Is It InYouYet?  We didn't have a hashshit, so we filled up a frisbee with beer, and made him drink it.  He got about half way through it before Frankie game him the old Frisbee full of beer to the face gag, and knocked it up on him.  Classic.  Roadkill got his 50 cranium run band, the virgins told some shitty awesome jokes, and about 40 announcements were made, all of which were immediately forgotten.  We swung low and almost made it to the on after.  Well, that is until they said their bar was "full" and turned us away.  Instead we ate chicken wings off the ground in the parking lot and contemplated where to go next.  Apparently it was to the Manchester Public House to show them how to play Thunderstruck.

Yours truly in the bloody bond of hashing,

Super Fast Motherfucker (aka. GladHeAteHer)