H4 #1803 – Blue Trails = Shigmata, Heartache, Reverse Cowboy

Hares:  Urban Cocksucker and Penis Envy

There was fear and loathing in the Houston Hash last week, amigos. Sunday was rapidly approaching, and no hare had yet to foolishly accepted the duty. Fortunately at Tuesday’s (awesome) full-ish moon trail, Urban Cock Sucker stumbled forward and volunteered, having been steeped in malty hops and hashly bon vivance during circle.  For help, he conscripted the aid of Penis Envy, who knew how easy haring with a hot co-hare was after his virgin lay only days prior. Together, they scouted a virgin shiggy trail and even convinced H4MM to take care of the beer. Brilliant plan, that.

Unfortunately, all did not go according to plan. A suntastic Sunday morning gave way to an aggressively rainy afternoon, and the hares had to re-lay flour that had been washed away. The sky water did not deter some three score of hounds and harriettes from making their way to Madison High School, which was apparently attended by some guy named Vince Young. Chalk talk was held under the sturm und drang of a westbound thunderhead, and the pack was off into the shiggy directly. Things started of slowly, as the pack crept forward, searching for scarce remnants of flour. This was all to the chagrin of Heartache, who was in a big hucking furry to…complain. Shiggy was thick with thorns and PI, all drenched in steady drizzle. At last hounds found their way to an abandoned stretch of Buffalo Speedway, before looping through more shiggy on the other side.

Heading west again, Brrrggghhh found true trail passing a baptist church and around the edge of a neighborhood. The sparse trail marks compressed the pack somewhat, forcing communal check solving. Presently, marks led down the bayou, where Whale’s Vagina nearly fell in after late arrival Horsefli Drivebi jokingly suggested it. After catching up with Geek on the walkers’ trail, the beer check was finally found after about 5k of true trail. After relubing and congratulating the hares, hounds and harriettes were off again, across a grassy power line easement and into shiggy for the last time. Under widely-spaced trees and on fresh marks, bands of hashers found their way through the mounting haze until the On In was gleefully glimpsed in the distance, at the intersection of a residential street and an ant-infested gas line easement. Here wankers, walkers, and wacists alike dined on Shiner Bock, hash fare, and some sweet (mostly) frozen pop ice.

Circle began in the usual way, with duly erected Religious Advisor Ramrod grouping everyone with some sort of communally known novelty song. After advising the hares of their shitty trail, circle broke tradition to find medical personnel who could tend to Geek’s wounded noggin. His death has not been since reported, so surgery must have been sucksessful. In the absence of any true virgins, usual business then carried on with visitors and transplants: Some Beardy Fella from Hong Kong, Ivan The Terrible from Mars, and skinny sweetie Fartle from Iran, and her dear sweet mum, Mata Zari.  No body parts were done shared. Reboots featured Such Worse (who won the hash!), Small Johnson (who claimed old guys rule!), and recent TV star Little Pussy (recently returned from killing taliban liberating the oppressed and spreading democracy).

Usual business concluded with birthdays and analversaries, and then at last accusations began. Newly-minted I’m A Big Girl Now (sing it) was accused of dressing like Hooter Bill. Let us all be thankful it wasn’t the other way around. No one suggested a shirt swap? At this point it should be noted that Brrrggghhh brought the On Sec a new beer. May her boobs sag late in life and with a measured grace. Just Jessica drank (honorably?) for taking a thorn to the vagina. For those seeking a carnivorous plant-related name, please consult this resource before making suggestions. Next a social was held for all who attended the Doggie Daze 13 campout in Seguin and still made trail in Houston: Brrrggghhh, Horsefli Drivebi, and Reverse Cowboy. Bravo! Dickrectionally Challenged then drank for confusing Unlaiden Swallows for one of the twins. Truly, he is related to Donnie the Retard. One of the hares’ many down downs was for bringing Brass Monkeys for themselves but not enough to share. Now they know the circle hates their fucking face. During the traditional accusation for Heartache’s complaining, it was apparent that he also had a camel toe, which for a gentleman is a moose knuckle. Knuckle sandwich, anyone? The hares were soon back, for going all Mr. Blonde on a tire in the woods. Incidentally, if you make a condom out of 365 tires, just call it a good year!

La Situacion drank next, and honorably, for surviving trail. Upon meeting a friendly local on trail, the indigen advised him to “back up, or I’ll shoot!” Oh, Texas! Speaking of trespassing, the border of Lame Territory was then crossed like so many laissez-faire latitudes. Accusations descended to Just Ben, no the other Just Ben, who’s been hashing for a year now and is still unnamed. He didn’t get named this time, but this is what is known about him: looks Jewish but isn’t, likes Batman and pirate parties, and is allergic to Mikes but not Ikes. Moving on, Just Kylee was too busy to party because she was breaking in a new adult romantic aide Playstation 3. Swinging tits? After Professor Mexavier drank for wringing out his shorts into a harriette’s vessel, it was time to swing low and GTFO.

ON AFTER

The On After was at Orem Sports Bar, just down the road from the start. Accurate reconnaissance is not available for this location. Here the usual post trail events occurred: baseless accusations, unsuccessful romantic overtures, naked dancing, unpaid wagers, 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!

-Crab Hash isn’t far away either, sext Dick The Boy Wonder for details.