Courtesy of: 8″ Crack, Pull the Plug, and Dickrectionally Challenged

If you see 8” Crack walking down the street, grant her a friendly “Aloha!” and congratulate her on her new quadragenarian status. That kind of prestige takes almost forty years to attain! To celebrate, she laid a Hawaiian-themed birthday trail with a pair of silver foxes, Pull The Plug and Dickrectionally Challenged. On warm and breezy January Sunday on the south side of town, her celebrators gathered. After the more cautious hounds swaddled their gear in hastily-procured trash bags to protect them from the gathering drizzle, the hares held their chalk talk. Trail was actually laid in baby powder and fruit loops, because the hares were wicked stoned. Suitably informed, the pack took off across the parking lot, momentarily confusing a handful of hopeful Target shoppers. After skirting a skeeter breeder, a backcheck appeared immediately. After cursing the hares and stumbling about in an impatient haze, the pack finally found flour leading to a check at a playground.  

Whale’s Vagina, Booby Trap, and Blow Hole enjoyed the slide while the remaining hounds found false trail. After some exasperated checking, true trail was traced back towards Monroe Road past some soccer games and along a ditch. It was at the edge of this ditch that Whale’s Vagina knocked a small child down to steal his bike to ride the remainder of trail. Some mild shiggy wove a brief sojourn through a neighborhood then back to a gas line easement. At this point the terrain started to look familiar and this made the hashers feel…crabby? Indeed, finally the BN was found at the edge of that partiest of properties, Dick The Boy Wonder‘s Crab Hash Headquarters. That’ll be $50 for the free advertising, Dick. Here there was a wide selection of Hawaiian beer, a cool lake for post-trail refreshment, and Kailua pork sliders. Aloha, indeed!

CIRCLE

After the pack had sated their baser appetites, the coolers were relocated to the beach. The hares were customarily castigated for their craptacular course. After observing proper down-down procedure, the virgins were introduced next: Just Jo (who used to work in Chicago), Just Melissa, Just Josh (who admitted being friends with Homodynamics), Just Tony, and Just Taylor, (the latest man-candy of Booby Trap). Reboots featured a rogues’ gallery of drunken reprobates with sloppy excuses, except Tastes Great Less Filling Mini Pearl Necklace who was too busy masturbating, twice. Analversaries included the likes of titular hare 8” Crack, and Shit Dick Ass Balls and Can’t Hack The Sack, who felt that their 6 month hashiversary was worth celebrating. Look out for them next week when the celebrate their un-birthdays. At last all the usual business was complete and the show could go on. Accusations began lamely enough, with Blow Hole (the one without the kid?) drinking for humping Coney, as it would not fit over her bunned hair. WTG, Coney!  

Whale’s Vagina was called in for his bitchin’ ride and proceeded to awe the circle with gnarly BMX trix. Noted Mexican Insane Clown Pussy accused 1-Eyed Snake Charmer for being too dark to do his immigrant impression of swimming across the pond. Was it funny? Si, si, senora! Noted dirty uncle Heartache made a surprisingly relevant AND entertaining honorable accusation for Booby Trap for “making trampolines redundant.” Fun fact, her name backwards is Party Boob. And Spiro Agnew is an acronym for Grow A Penis. Continuing with honorable down downs, Parson’s Nose was the only hound to manage a beer check on trail. Brava! Moving on to gay panic jokes, Whale’s Vagina was accused of being distracted by SDAB‘s cononut tits. Honestly, the cleavage glance is a permanent muscle reflex after puberty. The last accusation was for Buzzkill, who managed to lose her keys on trail. Although she had to drink an embarrassing down down, her infamy was considerably less than…

POOPER BOWL 2013

Circle was prematurely ejaculated postponed for that Houstonest of hash traditions, the – ahem – awarding of the pooper bowl. After much speculation and enimagic hinting, the reigning, uh champion?, Spin Cycle produced the obscene contraption and proceeded to identify the new winner. Every hasher’s asshole in attendance immediately puckered that the possibility that it might be them to be made a buffoon of and greedily grossed-out. Could it be me? Is it I, Lord? Is that you John Wayne? Is this me? As it happens, Spin Cycle, her sweet baboo Horsefly Drivebi, and his dear daddy Dickrectionally Challenged comprise a tight-knit clan. Their family takes more after the Corleones than the Cunninghams, seeking vengeance against those who would disrespect them in the least. Apparently, five folks in particular had royally wronged the Campbells in the past year. Their murderers’ row of potential poopers included the following:

• Parson’s Nose – a stand in for Tender Vittles, as any brit’s as bad as the next.

• Lube Job – sent Spin Cycle to the hospital.

• Pull The Plug – such an attention whore with his flesh eating bacteria leg thing.

• Ramrod – presided over too many a boring trifle of a circle.

• Dick Assley – caused injury to the leader of their pack.

After much (aw who are we kidding, 10 seconds) deliberation, the ultimate insult was deemed to have been perpetrated by none other than Dick Assley. Bite your tongue and sheathe your shiv about those Campbells, lest you suffer his punishment here illuminated in all its hoary gore, or gory whore? Much like the crucifiction of Christ, Dick was first stripped of his robes and mechanically fastened to the unforgiving timber. Now, the Campbells are of German descent (literal translation: goat shaver), and they proceeded to torture Dick in the most Teutonic fashion. What are Germans known for? (Dramatic reveal) S&M, and (dramatic reveal) lederhosen!

Dick was thirsty, and they proceeded to make beer upon him. Barley, hops, ice water, and yeast were daintily sprinkled toward his torso. Cue the jokes about Flatline getting a yeast infection. In fact, she was sitting comfortably at home, blissfully unaware of the wretched proceedings. Dick looked hungry, and they proceeded to make some wiener schnitzel on him. Sausages, flour, oil, and secret ingredient Sunny D were generously flung upon him. I wans that purple stuff. Dick looked like he had to shit, so instead they treated him to famous German scheisse-porn. This part was legitimately disgusting, as it looked like veritable coprophagia. After Dick futilely pleaded “don’t let my dog eat poop!” he was ironically showered in dog food. This was followed by an aperitif of olive oil and mayonnaise, because, at this point, what the hell. Sensing he had suffered enough, the Campbells then released him into gen-pop. Encircled attendees waited warily, fearing that Dick might lunge at them in a jest of revenge. Instead he feinted left then turned on his very captors, tackling en-leathered Spin Cycle to the ground to, ah, exchange fluids.

After that bomb shell, it was time to swing low and GTFO.

ON AFTER

The On After was at Scooter’s Ice House where the poor line-cook was barraged with hungry, sweaty drunks. Without football to distract on the boob toob, hashers got to know one another and articulately discuss complex subjects like if you could motorboat tits on a turtle, or is that a no-wake zone?

ANNOUNCEMENTS

• HARES NEEDED this sunday. Mismanagement will buy you a porno mag of your choosing.

• Mosquito trail wednesday February 6, stay tuned for details.
  

On On, me droogies,
Your ‘umble narrator
Whale’s Vagina