Hares:  Brrrggghhh and Penis Envy

TRAIL

‘Neath an azure sky in deepest summer, Penis Envy had the inimitable pleasure of performing his first lay with that known r@cist, Brrrggghhh. They selected the hottest Sunday of the month to lay a supposedly shiggified trail. Hounds, virgins, visitors, and others who should have known better amassed at Woodland Park for a luau-themed trail. Hashers arrived arrayed in their finest store-bought leis, polyethylene grass skirts, and professionally-fitted coconut bras, knowing there were prizes to be won. Whale’s Vagina showed up sporting new boots, and a sign brazenly admitting so, to boot! After distributing well-advised pre-trail waters, the hares held a rousing chalk talk and then loosed the pack to the pavement.  After dispersing from the initial check, true trail was found on a bridge crossing over the Gulf Freeway and then into some very nice shiggy. It was tall grass which obscured the walking surface, but had no pointy or scratchy bits. Also, there were no velociraptors! After a stinky creek walk and some steep slope scrambling, flour led along a fence, taking the pack around an apartment complex. Leaving the shiggy behind, unfortunately for good, trail led through Moody Park, where there was no shade, but did provide a much-appreciated water check.

Now things got interesting. Well not so much interesting, as things got excruciatingly monotonous. A weary pack trudged on through a maze of residential streets, swerving down the streets chasing solar umbrage. After crissing and crossing Fulton street and its light rail construction zone a few times, the beer check was finally found in a sun-drenched Fiesta parking lot. As the pack was compressed with fatigue, hashers actually worked together to solve checks on the third leg of trail. They followed the leader following the flour back under the Gulf Freeway. Having discovered a shopping cart on trail, bushed harriette Pull The Prick Out enjoyed a relaxing ride before reciprocating for another tired hound. Solving the final check, the On In emerged from the haze near the corner of Montie Beach Park. Ever the tease, there was no actual beach there.

CIRCLE

This is a pubicpublic service announcement. Do not attempt to adjust your smart phone. Should you find yourself enjoying some beer from the uber-tap, always ensure that the spout is not left open. Due to an honest mistake, approximately one third of the keg was wasted. Don’t let this happen to you! That is all.  

The defining characteristic of circle was the staggered continuum of stragglers coming in from trail. Just as the DFL’s name was inscribed in the notes, another one would appear on the horizon, occasionally enjoying the winner’s tunnel coming in. Religious Advisor Ramrod began by corralling the pack to the tune of Bum Titty Bum. Hares were up first, and Penis Envy was summarily floured. The eight virgins followed, one of whom was Just Aramis. Is there a three musketeer naming in store for him? Reboots include I Fucked Your Dad, who was busy fucking your dad, and Dr. Strangerub, who was in Iceland. In Icelandic, his name is Laeknir Skrytinn Nudda, who is probably a non-cannon Star Wars character. Try putting that on your necklace. It was a big day for celebrations, listed in order of impressiveness: Hole In One‘s 69 runs, Dangleberry‘s 100 runs, Dick‘s four year hashiversary, Lube Job‘s 650 runs, Grind Slut‘s 23 year hashiversary (to the day!), and Sweat Licker‘s 69^th birthday. Usual business concluded with prizes for the FRB and FBI. Dangleberry and Pull The Prick Out earned bombers of Arrogant Bastard and Young’s Double Chocolate Stout, respectively. Then a drug dealer ice cream vendor showed up, and many hounds could not resist his bell.

At last the boring shit was over with and accusations could begin, starting naturally with the hares. One of the hounds nearly fell into a “tiger trap” on trail and accused the hares of having booby traps on trail, but no boobies. Sadly, it was true, but hopefully he was mollified by some swinging tits. H4 Haberdasher Juices Flowing drank for a strange admission: she had a dream about Spot On The Mat, who must have made some ethereal offense, as Juices warned her “and now I have to hurt you.” Whale’s Vagina broke in his new, creek-water soaking, shoes by taking a down down out of them, after proper donations of course. Hey, it’s an easy way to get other people’s beer, and a little ice cream too. Staying in the r@cist vein, Loofah drank next for trying to cheat in hopes of beating Horsefli Drivebi to the On In. In an early lost property down down, Blow Hole drank for losing her bra, thanks to Rancid Asshole. Fortunately, there are plenty of songs about tits.

Tits, who said tits? I’ll take some of that. There were two Just Chelseas at circle, and they were called in for some bogus reason. Someone suggested they show their tits, and only one did. Depending on your perspective on modesty, nudity, and exhibitionism, either of them might be Good Chelsea or Bad Chelsea. And no, it’s not Chelsea Clinton. Now the line was crossed into lame territory, fittingly starting with McPisser. When his widdle wegs got too tired on twail, he took an early car back to relax at the On In instead of finishing trail. Was anyone really surprised? Now it was time for more prizes for the best dressed hounds. I Fucked Your Dad took gold in the women’s competition, complementing her figure with a polynesian brown wig. For her efforts, she received a box of wine. Fucking Tree Hugger won a hotly-contested men’s division, with a matching wig. For his efforts, he received the box the wine came in. Seriously, how many sarongs does this guy have? After Snidely Bitchslap drank for getting her tampon string caught on some barbed wire, it was time to swing low and GTFO.

ON AFTER

The On After was at The Distillery, just down the road from the start. It was not readily apparent that any spirits were actually distillerd there, lying bastards. Here the usual post trail events occurred: baseless accusations, unsuccessful romantic overtures, exaggerated compliments, and unfulfillable promises. Good times!

ANNOUNCEMENTS

• It’s not too late to rego for Bloat Til You Float, a hash boat party courtesy of Austin H3, on Saturday August 18. Only $45.69 before 8/12!

• Just Amanda was named I’m A Big Girl Now at the full moon. Cuntratulations!

• Everyone had a kickass time at Mosquito on Wednesday.

• Have fun at weekend campouts, and come home safe!

On on me droogies!  Your ‘umble narrator,

Whale’s Vagina