Hared by Grind Slut and A$$wipe

Click the image above to see the rest of VE’s photos from the Festivus run.

Hashers from all walks of life gave thanks to the hashing gods Dec. 21 as more than 50 people showed up on a brisk day with the prospect of a live trail and St. Arnold’s Christmas Ale to warm their hearts. The hash was populated by new boots, reboots, transfers and visitors who were no doubt frightened by Grind Slut wielding a large galvanized metal pole. As the pack trickled in and received their free t-shirts with their Festivus registration, Asswipe announced he was taking off to lay the live trail from Memorial Park. Pipes garbled some words that I can only assume were the Aussie equivalent of “Get the Hell out of here.”

A few minutes later, Grind gathered the hounds and gave chalk talk. Afterwards it was on-on. The trail led around some baseball fields, with an arrow pointing across I-10. It then proceeded down a median to a check that stumped the pack for a while. Doppelgangbanger shouted on-on and the pack headed toward the railroad tracks where we came upon another check. Some of the pack crossed the bridge and began searching the nearby woods. Finally, Vaginal Eructation found a mark and headed along the wooded area. Trouble was he didn’t see that the trail led into the thicket. The pack wised up and headed through the woods leading to another check near the running trail where the hash mingled with confused runners. I found an arrow but one used for archery not meant for hashing. The pack eventually found trail where we encountered Hooter Bill walking alongside some voluptuous women. Trail winded around the tennis courts and a driving range before heading once
more into the woods. After running around the woods a little more, the pack eventually came upon the end where three pony kegs of St. Arnold’s Christmas and Elissa were kept cold. Special props to Momma’s Boy for securing our fine alcoholic beverages. Chef Pipes heated up some leftover gumbo which was quickly devoured and much appreciated.

As the circle gathered, our visitors and virgins introduced themselves. Incest was the theme for the virgins. Just Jenny’s father, Lou who had hashed in Malaysia some years ago, made her cum. Also two other virgins were made to cum by their mother. Gaslight was called out almost immediately due to her shitty message on the hash line which neglected the most important information, the directions to the run. The hares were also accused of wearing Santa Claus hats which did not follow with the Festivus tradition. Lame accusations led to lamer accusations until Doppelgangbanger stepped forward with a grievance. Momma’s Boy welcomed him into the circle and showed him what the inside of the circle looks like. When it was discovered that the grievance was against Platterpuss, the hash riled up at the thought of nerd against nerd action. DGBG accused Platterpuss of racing due to his racing shirt, cap and sunglasses. But when Momma’s Boy rolled the 10-sided dice,
it was discovered that Platterpuss is really a seventh level mage and therefore DGBG is required to drink any time a level seven mage drinks.

Anal 101 bequeathed the Festivus pack (hash shit) upon Saran Crap who took it with much honor. Hooter was also ridiculed for looking like a homeless truck driver with a scarf tucked underneath his hat. It might help if Hooter wore clothes that didn’t have a dozen holes in them. The circle was interrupted multiple times by hooligans who rained bombs of tennis balls upon the RA and McPisser. The circle was disbanded soon thereafter.

Immediately following the circle, the annual feats of strength were held. The bowling ball toss and keg toss were eventful. McPisser took home the honors for both the bowling ball toss and the men’s keg throwing. Multiple times, Saran Crap had to dodge kegs as everyone was trying to knock the hamburger helper character off his head. As night fell, Grind took out the dullest axe known to man and began throwing it at a large tree with no regard for human life in the immediate area. After about six people tried unsuccessfully to stick the axe to the tree Grind decided it might be best to put up the weapon. As hashers trickled on toward the on-on-on, Hooter and Momma’s Boy recalled an interesting tale of the women who used to inhabit the whore house turned bar. Apparently the women would use their bodies like a sponge to bathe their clients. Nowadays it might make an interesting twist on a body shot.

The crowd dwindled and hours passed with beer still remaining. Yet rogue circles led to smaller rogue circles until there was only five. The circles ridiculed the foolish hashers at the on-on-on when there was plenty of good beer for free. Upon finishing the beer on tap, the group stumbled back to their cars and headed out. Truly a great Festivus.

On-on,
I Am Cumstain