Meh, I'll live. I'll be itchy as fuck, but I'll live.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Bloodsucker Hash
I am covered in mosquito bites. I propose a renaming for yesterday's hash. I'm torn between "OH3 #325 Malaria Hash" and "OH3 #325 West Nile Hash". Here's a pic of just one affected area:
Meh, I'll live. I'll be itchy as fuck, but I'll live.
Meh, I'll live. I'll be itchy as fuck, but I'll live.
OH3 #325 Wedding Crash Hash Recap
The attendance was low due to the fact that so many hashers were attending the wedding of Path Defiler and Blowfish. So, of course, we crashed the wedding. Also, because so few of us were actually on trail, we did a "dead hare" and VW and Spring Loaded Pussy actually walked the trail with us.
Since they really "phoned in" their haring duties, I advised that my Hash Trash will be similarly low-effort.
I give you the OH3 #325 Wedding Crash Hash Recap, in haiku form:
Mosquitos bit usI'll be completely honest, though. Despite nearly losing my sneakers to a swamp, getting caught in the rain, being chewed on by mosquitos, and feeling completely out of place at the wedding reception of two people I have only met once before, I had a really great time.
The only thing that bit worse
Was the fucking trail
Anyway, here are a number of pictures I took... and below is a video of Frodo and his daughters singing karaoke.
Attendees:
VW (hare)
Spring Loaded Pussy (hare)
Tico Taz
No Name Amy
Penguin Pucker
Hand Tossed (5 year-lapsed hasher returned from the grave!)
Bush Beer on Tap
Monday, June 16, 2008
Attendance list LNE H3 #171
Courtesy of Once Over Easy, the list of attendees:
- Balldozer (visitor)
- Bronzz Bunzz (FRB)
- Bush Beer On Tap (visitor)
- Chap Dick
- E=MC2
- Lost in Pi (Co-Hare)
- Mini Moon Pi (Backslider)
- Moutha Stewar (Hare)
- No Name Sam
- Once Over Easy
- Pondscum
- Pussy Control (formerly known as Cock Controller)
- Urine Sodomy (visitor)
- Weekend Hooker (LNE backslider)
- Whack a Mole (showed up at on-after)
LNE H3 #171 Birthday Blast
Somehow, I allowed myself to get roped into writing another Hash Trash. I toyed with the idea of making the story entirely fictional, but my journalistic integrity would not allow me to do so. Therefore, I will give my journalistic integrity a few shots and maybe a roofie, and see if this gets at least a little bit interesting by the end.
It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in Lincoln, Nebraska. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the temperature was warm but not unpleasant. As hashers began arriving, so too was the area graced repeatedly by the presence of an actual rabbit.
This hash was held in honor of a number of birthdays in the same week or so. The hares for this event were two of the birthday honorees, Moutha Stewart and Lost in Pi.
Attendees lined up to pay Weekend Hooker, who used the advanced accounting method of writing their names on a sheet of notebook paper. A couple of people were able to convince the Interim Hash Cash that they were already paid up, and perhaps even were owed money by the books. It is unknown whether this was legitimate paperless accounting, or a really slick maneuver that should be attempted by this reporter on later occasions.
After a bit of meet and greet...
Lost in Pi began the Chalk Talk. Pi's markings ended up being upside-down from the perspective of those standing in the shady area (everyone), which was somehow entirely appropriate since Lost in Pi was indeed the one explaining the marks. The group members adjusted and mentally prepared themselves to follow a trail in search of the last mark, which would be the "NINO."
After Chalk Talk, the hares were blessed and sent on their way.
The hares split in different directions right in front of the group.
After a strange bit of trail with markings that made no sense (a YBF where the true trail could be found several yards beyond?) and a couple of purchases from an ice cream truck by Once Over Easy and Bush Beer on Tap, the pack picked up the scent. Finally, they found the first beer check.
The group traveled on, through some bushes, into a residential area where Pussy Control (formerly known as Cock Controller) shut off someone's hose that had clearly been running for entirely too long, and along some train tracks and down a path that was flooded (on which there was at one time a sign stating that the path was closed - a sign which mysteriously made its way to the On In later that day, in fact). The trail went past a mysterious brick building, the purpose of which was the subject of a great deal of conjecture. There was then a Scenic View, which turned out mainly to be a view of Pussy Control's nipples...
...which were "Special Touched" by a number of female hashers.
The pack continued on, somehow missing an entire beer check somewhere along the way. It wasn't that big a deal, except apparently for Mini Moon Pi, who was dismayed to find that there was no dumping allowed at the third beer check.
The hares were sort-of-snared when they arrived at the third beer check while the pack was still there and everyone touched them. It didn't really much matter however, since they seemed to expect everyone to Zen back to Moutha Stewart's place from that beer check anyway - or at least that was the impression given by the lack of marks between there and the On In. However, on the Zen trip back, territory was re-covered from earlier in the trail, and it was noted by many that marks that hadn't been there previously but would have helped immensely had appeared in the interim.
Once the group returned, the circle was called together and there were violations and announcements. The Dead Bug that Pi and Moutha SHOULD have endured somehow never happened, but that may have been because people were distracted by other events, like birthdays and a renaming.
Once Over Easy led the group in the making of a cake for the birthday celebrants. She liberally sprinkled them with Funfetti cake mix...
...added oil...
...and water...
...and an egg...
...and candles. However, much to the disappointment of some, no one got baked.
Since Mini Moon Pi couldn't take a dump on trail, he decided to pee in the driveway.*
The group collaborated on the choosing of a new name for Cock Controller. After a very long question and answer period, several names were suggested and discarded, and the group nearly unanimously decided that Pussy Control would be the new name. Since PC was being "reborn", Funfetti cake mix was used in place of flour for the renaming ceremony.
After the circle was over, there was a very tasty barbecue meal, a cake with a foot made out of icing on it, and lots of beer and camaraderie. Bronzz Bunzz made some haberdashery sales and Whack-A-Mole (another birthday boy) showed up with some excuse for missing the hash about "delivering a kennel" (euphemism, certainly), and stuck around for the rest of the evening. Folks stayed late into the night chatting about this and that, and Bush Beer on Tap was conned into writing the Hash Trash. Then some folks adjourned to Bronzz Bunzz and Pi's place for some hot tubbin', where Bunzz sold a few more articles of clothing to those wishing to have dry clothes to change back into, which is a very brilliant sales tactic.
In this reporter's opinion, the hash was an incredible success. The only regrettable part was that there were no virgins to experience the awesome vibes and fun times.
Well done, hares! Happy birthday to Moutha Stewart, Lost in Pi, Urine Sodomy, and Whack-A-Mole. Happy renaming to Pussy Control.
* Mini Moon Pi did not actually urinate on the driveway.
It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in Lincoln, Nebraska. The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the temperature was warm but not unpleasant. As hashers began arriving, so too was the area graced repeatedly by the presence of an actual rabbit.
This hash was held in honor of a number of birthdays in the same week or so. The hares for this event were two of the birthday honorees, Moutha Stewart and Lost in Pi.
Attendees lined up to pay Weekend Hooker, who used the advanced accounting method of writing their names on a sheet of notebook paper. A couple of people were able to convince the Interim Hash Cash that they were already paid up, and perhaps even were owed money by the books. It is unknown whether this was legitimate paperless accounting, or a really slick maneuver that should be attempted by this reporter on later occasions.
After a bit of meet and greet...
Lost in Pi began the Chalk Talk. Pi's markings ended up being upside-down from the perspective of those standing in the shady area (everyone), which was somehow entirely appropriate since Lost in Pi was indeed the one explaining the marks. The group members adjusted and mentally prepared themselves to follow a trail in search of the last mark, which would be the "NINO."
After Chalk Talk, the hares were blessed and sent on their way.
The hares split in different directions right in front of the group.
After a strange bit of trail with markings that made no sense (a YBF where the true trail could be found several yards beyond?) and a couple of purchases from an ice cream truck by Once Over Easy and Bush Beer on Tap, the pack picked up the scent. Finally, they found the first beer check.
The group traveled on, through some bushes, into a residential area where Pussy Control (formerly known as Cock Controller) shut off someone's hose that had clearly been running for entirely too long, and along some train tracks and down a path that was flooded (on which there was at one time a sign stating that the path was closed - a sign which mysteriously made its way to the On In later that day, in fact). The trail went past a mysterious brick building, the purpose of which was the subject of a great deal of conjecture. There was then a Scenic View, which turned out mainly to be a view of Pussy Control's nipples...
...which were "Special Touched" by a number of female hashers.
The pack continued on, somehow missing an entire beer check somewhere along the way. It wasn't that big a deal, except apparently for Mini Moon Pi, who was dismayed to find that there was no dumping allowed at the third beer check.
The hares were sort-of-snared when they arrived at the third beer check while the pack was still there and everyone touched them. It didn't really much matter however, since they seemed to expect everyone to Zen back to Moutha Stewart's place from that beer check anyway - or at least that was the impression given by the lack of marks between there and the On In. However, on the Zen trip back, territory was re-covered from earlier in the trail, and it was noted by many that marks that hadn't been there previously but would have helped immensely had appeared in the interim.
Once the group returned, the circle was called together and there were violations and announcements. The Dead Bug that Pi and Moutha SHOULD have endured somehow never happened, but that may have been because people were distracted by other events, like birthdays and a renaming.
Once Over Easy led the group in the making of a cake for the birthday celebrants. She liberally sprinkled them with Funfetti cake mix...
...added oil...
...and water...
...and an egg...
...and candles. However, much to the disappointment of some, no one got baked.
Since Mini Moon Pi couldn't take a dump on trail, he decided to pee in the driveway.*
The group collaborated on the choosing of a new name for Cock Controller. After a very long question and answer period, several names were suggested and discarded, and the group nearly unanimously decided that Pussy Control would be the new name. Since PC was being "reborn", Funfetti cake mix was used in place of flour for the renaming ceremony.
After the circle was over, there was a very tasty barbecue meal, a cake with a foot made out of icing on it, and lots of beer and camaraderie. Bronzz Bunzz made some haberdashery sales and Whack-A-Mole (another birthday boy) showed up with some excuse for missing the hash about "delivering a kennel" (euphemism, certainly), and stuck around for the rest of the evening. Folks stayed late into the night chatting about this and that, and Bush Beer on Tap was conned into writing the Hash Trash. Then some folks adjourned to Bronzz Bunzz and Pi's place for some hot tubbin', where Bunzz sold a few more articles of clothing to those wishing to have dry clothes to change back into, which is a very brilliant sales tactic.
In this reporter's opinion, the hash was an incredible success. The only regrettable part was that there were no virgins to experience the awesome vibes and fun times.
Well done, hares! Happy birthday to Moutha Stewart, Lost in Pi, Urine Sodomy, and Whack-A-Mole. Happy renaming to Pussy Control.
* Mini Moon Pi did not actually urinate on the driveway.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
My first hash trash
I've recently begun participating in an awesome activity on weekends. The club is called the Hash House Harriers, otherwise known as a drinking club with a running problem. A pretty decent explanation can be found here, and the site for my specific chapter (or kennel) is found here.
Here's a reposting of my first hash writeup, which was for my third hash:
Recap: Omaha Hash #323 - First Burn Hash
I'd already begun writing this when Urine Sodomy piped up and said he'd take over for Flamboyatron, but Urine was nice enough to let me write this recap since I'd already started, for which I am grateful. Y'know how it is... when someone else comes before I reach completion that's okay, as long as I get to finish too.
The day was bright and hot as we trickled into Buffalo Wild Wings. The mood was good and everyone was happy to see Hand Solo, back from the dead. Our group grew to an intimidating size - so intimidating, in fact, that the waitresses apparently were too scared to take orders, serve beers, and collect tips!
Eventually, everyone was gathered up by Cock Controller, who brought the pack out behind the BW3 and explained the marks he seemed to think he had used. He also gave the group his phone number before he sprinted off. The crowd was then entertained by Tico Taz singing a very amusing song about the days of the week and fisting. Then people wandered off for a few minutes, probably to find the men's room of every nearby establishment so that CC's number could be shared. Bronze Bunz awarded Hand Solo the Bra of Backsliding, which he manfully(?) donned.
After a short trip under a bridge and along a bike path, we reached a beer check, where Triple P caught up with us and Tico Taz fell into a hole (and didn't even get her name). Then we continued along the bike path until we saw Hand Solo doubling back along a street on the other side of a field. Being the lazy bastards we are, we gleefully cut across. The trail then meandered through a residential neighborhood where VW did some networking with the locals and gave out some of his hash cards, and Urine Sodomy got wood that lasted throughout the rest of the hash (if it lasts more than four hours, please call a doctor). We made it to a photo check we hadn't been warned we'd find, where VW promptly dropped someone's camera. Once the photos had been taken, we went on-on and were very fucking careful of thorns, as warned. Lost in Pi taught Thanks for the Mammaries a song to help her remember the digits of Pi, which is a good thing because now she knows that Pi begins with a 3. There was another beer check in some tall grass, but I was more like BUSHED Beer on Tap (AM I RITE LOL) and I decided to brave the possibility of insect bites and collapsed onto the ground. After many people helpfully offered a wide range of medical advice, we finished our beverages and then pushed through to look for the continuation of the trail.
After a while of not finding the trail, Bronze Bunz told me to go ahead and call Cock Controller, which I did. He said "go right", which I did. By the time I found the general area based on this detailed set of instructions, the pack was already picking up the marks on their own, which is a damned good thing because I wasn't very confident in the validity of "go right", anyway. Some of us climbed a gate, for which we received much ribbing from the folks who walked through the huge gap (still didn't get her name) that was two fence segments away from the gate we climbed. We then walked along a ridge until we came to the Turkey-Eagle split. All but a few folks decided to go for the Eagle. At the last minute, No Name Samantha and friends decided to switch to the Turkey, and did so by running down a steep hill. (Well - running down most of it... Sam decided that the last several feet might be more fun to traverse on her head.) Where the Turkey and Eagle met up, there was a Hash Halt. When the Eaglegoers finally caught up with the Turkeygoers, the pack progressed through some trees where it looked for a moment like the beer might have been stolen.
Finally we happened upon the beer at the final beer check. There was a declaration of necrophilia (from Hot Sement), and some spilling of alcohol (by Tico Taz?), and a hare was snared (though this hare was much cuter than Cock Controller, and was released back into the wild, where it was probably eaten by its mother for smelling like humans). We continued out of the wooded area and back out onto the street, where there was a K9 police car sitting on the street. Several hashers had some strangely paranoid reactions at seeing this. Hand Solo and No Name Nicki ranged out in different directions to find the trail, and the rest of the pack seemed satisfied to chill out at the corner and relax. No Name Nicki was the one who chose wisely, and the rest of us followed her up a hill and then down onto a pleasant little walking path that no one knew about. On this path, Tico Taz answered his phone to give people directions to where he believed the on-in would be, and I texted Cock Controller who had texted me because he was getting bored while waiting for us to show up. (We both drank for it later, of course.)
We then meandered through some more residential area, and into an apartment complex. A true trail arrow pointed people into a garage on one of the apartments, through which we walked to find the on-in and barbecue on the lawn on the other side. The apartment, unbeknownst to the hashers, belonged to Bush Beer on Tap (yours truly, this reporter) whose husband was there with Cock Controller, serving up grilled brats, barbecue wings, chips, and all manner of beverages.
After a short while, Urine Sodomy rounded everyone up for the circle. Violations were called, songs were sung, beers were consumed, and virgins were deflowered. Halfway through, we were joined by Hold the Meat, No Name Amber, and Deep Frodo, who brought his little hobbitlings with him. After the circle was dispersed, the hobbitlings expended copious amounts of youthful energy by running around and performing somersaults. Soon they were joined by Thanks for the Mammaries and No Name Vinie, who decided to have a drunken somersault race across the lawn, much to everyone's amusement. No Name Samantha and No Name Tasha were wrestling on the lawn as dusk began to fall.
I finally began encouraging people's departure, and people left to go attempt to find the on-after at Tico Taz's place, where I hear they finally arrived and watched some Carlos Mencia and drank some more alcohol.
In attendance were:
Cock Controller (hare)
Urine Sodomy
Penguin Pucker
Hand Solo
Tico Taz
Triple P
Bronze Bunz
Lost in Pi
Virgin Whisperer
Spring-loaded Pussy
Whack-A-Mole
Hot Sement
Bush Beer on Tap
Thanks for the Mammaries
No Name Anna
No Name Samantha
No Name Nicki
No Name Vinie (virgin)
No Name Tasha (virgin)
Hold the Meat (just for on-in)
No Name Amber (just for on-in)
Deep Frodo (just for on-in)
Frodo's hobbitlings (just for on-in)
Bush Beer on Tap's husband, Mike (whose patience and devotion are without bounds)
If I missed anyone or misspelled anyone's name, I apologize profusely. You may spank me for it at a later time. Email me for an appointment.
Love,
Bush Beer on Tap
(Originally posted on my other blog, 6/2/08)
Here's a reposting of my first hash writeup, which was for my third hash:
Recap: Omaha Hash #323 - First Burn Hash
I'd already begun writing this when Urine Sodomy piped up and said he'd take over for Flamboyatron, but Urine was nice enough to let me write this recap since I'd already started, for which I am grateful. Y'know how it is... when someone else comes before I reach completion that's okay, as long as I get to finish too.
The day was bright and hot as we trickled into Buffalo Wild Wings. The mood was good and everyone was happy to see Hand Solo, back from the dead. Our group grew to an intimidating size - so intimidating, in fact, that the waitresses apparently were too scared to take orders, serve beers, and collect tips!
Eventually, everyone was gathered up by Cock Controller, who brought the pack out behind the BW3 and explained the marks he seemed to think he had used. He also gave the group his phone number before he sprinted off. The crowd was then entertained by Tico Taz singing a very amusing song about the days of the week and fisting. Then people wandered off for a few minutes, probably to find the men's room of every nearby establishment so that CC's number could be shared. Bronze Bunz awarded Hand Solo the Bra of Backsliding, which he manfully(?) donned.
After a short trip under a bridge and along a bike path, we reached a beer check, where Triple P caught up with us and Tico Taz fell into a hole (and didn't even get her name). Then we continued along the bike path until we saw Hand Solo doubling back along a street on the other side of a field. Being the lazy bastards we are, we gleefully cut across. The trail then meandered through a residential neighborhood where VW did some networking with the locals and gave out some of his hash cards, and Urine Sodomy got wood that lasted throughout the rest of the hash (if it lasts more than four hours, please call a doctor). We made it to a photo check we hadn't been warned we'd find, where VW promptly dropped someone's camera. Once the photos had been taken, we went on-on and were very fucking careful of thorns, as warned. Lost in Pi taught Thanks for the Mammaries a song to help her remember the digits of Pi, which is a good thing because now she knows that Pi begins with a 3. There was another beer check in some tall grass, but I was more like BUSHED Beer on Tap (AM I RITE LOL) and I decided to brave the possibility of insect bites and collapsed onto the ground. After many people helpfully offered a wide range of medical advice, we finished our beverages and then pushed through to look for the continuation of the trail.
After a while of not finding the trail, Bronze Bunz told me to go ahead and call Cock Controller, which I did. He said "go right", which I did. By the time I found the general area based on this detailed set of instructions, the pack was already picking up the marks on their own, which is a damned good thing because I wasn't very confident in the validity of "go right", anyway. Some of us climbed a gate, for which we received much ribbing from the folks who walked through the huge gap (still didn't get her name) that was two fence segments away from the gate we climbed. We then walked along a ridge until we came to the Turkey-Eagle split. All but a few folks decided to go for the Eagle. At the last minute, No Name Samantha and friends decided to switch to the Turkey, and did so by running down a steep hill. (Well - running down most of it... Sam decided that the last several feet might be more fun to traverse on her head.) Where the Turkey and Eagle met up, there was a Hash Halt. When the Eaglegoers finally caught up with the Turkeygoers, the pack progressed through some trees where it looked for a moment like the beer might have been stolen.
Finally we happened upon the beer at the final beer check. There was a declaration of necrophilia (from Hot Sement), and some spilling of alcohol (by Tico Taz?), and a hare was snared (though this hare was much cuter than Cock Controller, and was released back into the wild, where it was probably eaten by its mother for smelling like humans). We continued out of the wooded area and back out onto the street, where there was a K9 police car sitting on the street. Several hashers had some strangely paranoid reactions at seeing this. Hand Solo and No Name Nicki ranged out in different directions to find the trail, and the rest of the pack seemed satisfied to chill out at the corner and relax. No Name Nicki was the one who chose wisely, and the rest of us followed her up a hill and then down onto a pleasant little walking path that no one knew about. On this path, Tico Taz answered his phone to give people directions to where he believed the on-in would be, and I texted Cock Controller who had texted me because he was getting bored while waiting for us to show up. (We both drank for it later, of course.)
We then meandered through some more residential area, and into an apartment complex. A true trail arrow pointed people into a garage on one of the apartments, through which we walked to find the on-in and barbecue on the lawn on the other side. The apartment, unbeknownst to the hashers, belonged to Bush Beer on Tap (yours truly, this reporter) whose husband was there with Cock Controller, serving up grilled brats, barbecue wings, chips, and all manner of beverages.
After a short while, Urine Sodomy rounded everyone up for the circle. Violations were called, songs were sung, beers were consumed, and virgins were deflowered. Halfway through, we were joined by Hold the Meat, No Name Amber, and Deep Frodo, who brought his little hobbitlings with him. After the circle was dispersed, the hobbitlings expended copious amounts of youthful energy by running around and performing somersaults. Soon they were joined by Thanks for the Mammaries and No Name Vinie, who decided to have a drunken somersault race across the lawn, much to everyone's amusement. No Name Samantha and No Name Tasha were wrestling on the lawn as dusk began to fall.
I finally began encouraging people's departure, and people left to go attempt to find the on-after at Tico Taz's place, where I hear they finally arrived and watched some Carlos Mencia and drank some more alcohol.
In attendance were:
Cock Controller (hare)
Urine Sodomy
Penguin Pucker
Hand Solo
Tico Taz
Triple P
Bronze Bunz
Lost in Pi
Virgin Whisperer
Spring-loaded Pussy
Whack-A-Mole
Hot Sement
Bush Beer on Tap
Thanks for the Mammaries
No Name Anna
No Name Samantha
No Name Nicki
No Name Vinie (virgin)
No Name Tasha (virgin)
Hold the Meat (just for on-in)
No Name Amber (just for on-in)
Deep Frodo (just for on-in)
Frodo's hobbitlings (just for on-in)
Bush Beer on Tap's husband, Mike (whose patience and devotion are without bounds)
If I missed anyone or misspelled anyone's name, I apologize profusely. You may spank me for it at a later time. Email me for an appointment.
Love,
Bush Beer on Tap
(Originally posted on my other blog, 6/2/08)
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