So even though So-So pretty much wrote the damn trash in one of her posts, here goes.

The hash arrives at the deserted parking lot behind a Mobil station, many of us still recovering from the festivities at this year's Bungle in the Jungle.  Celery's body was pretty much one big bruise, my ankle was sprained and wrapped over my pink shiggy/softballshit socks, Just Tony still had spaghetti stuck on his balls (that's what Help Me said at least), and I believe Rudolph, Stinky, Postage, and pretty much every one else who attended  were still nursing hardened livers.

So we're hanging out in the circle, I pay my five damn dollars, open the cooler and see ...  Whiskey!  Good beer!  my lord this is gonna be a good hash!  There was also Jager in there too, but Just Julie pounded it and ended up face-down throwing up by the barbecue pit.

Waaaaiit, my memory might be a little fuzzy on that.  We do all the pleasantries, led by the saucy harriettes of the evening, Sextra Credit and Peeeeemis, who just recently got one year older.  We started pounding Just John with questions, trying to find one crack in his otherwise smooth history ... "We want the truth!" "YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!!" he says back.

many friendly faces are in attendance, and my first virgin in a while gets a great crowd for his first hash.  Since I had the bum ankle and there were rumors about the outlandish nature of the night's shiggy, I decide to hit the walker trail.  Little did I know ...

This walker trail was the longest frickin thing ever.  We went out of our goldarn way, then backtracked, almost got Lazy hit by frickin'

trucks, pissed off some locals by throwing crabapples at their kids, and basically defiled all the "For Rent" signs.  But oh well, it was fun.

The first of two beer stops was great, but they didn't let us play the drums!!  The owner kicked me and Disco off those bad boys pretty damn quick.  Me and Just John M are buzzin pretty good at this point, 'cause I brought two little bottles of whiskey on the road with us, and the beer is flowing freely thanks to our great harriettes.  Oh wait, shit, that was the second beer stop!!  Damn, the first one was fun too.  I remember seeing long-legged women in bikinis playing with balls ...

anyways, we Zen back to circle, and frickin' Just Tony almost runs our asses over with his land rover and gets his dumbass stuck in a ditch.

Sadly, he had been drinking, so Mudpacker had to get behind the wheel and get the lazy frickin' car out of there.  I honestly thought Help me and the two dogs were going to fly through the windshield when he hit that curb.

The rest of circle was relatively uneventful, except for a couple of catfights involving none other than our reigning spaghetti wrestling champion, Celery.  Honestly, why the hell would you pick a fight with a woman who triumphed over every other at the campout!?!?  Actually, it turns out Celery got a black eye, but it was only due to stupid drunkenness, so no long-term feuds or anything, please ladies.

So Just Tony gets the hash shit, obviously, there was some female virgin nudity (sweet), and we swing low!  On-On to the on-after!!  We arrive, people order food, I take one more shot of bourbon, then realize I have to be at work at 8 am in the morning, so this is where my evening ends.  If there's any more to report (especially more about the trail), I'm sure an inquiring mind will find the details in the comments.  All in all, great hash!

Faithfully yours,

Cum It Out