PH3 Hash Trash
This is going to get long so here are links to specific dates
Click below on the specific dates:
We will begin to post our PH3 Hash Trash here starting with the last email sent out to the group: This may get long, but I want to put it some where. (I think I may have said that before…)
First off, I’d like to say that was the best Full Moon trail of the year! Those guys should hare EVERY Full Moon! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA H AH AHAHA —- ha.
Secondly, I would like to express my sincere gratitude to Hole Miner’s Daughter. Never once did I think that when I asked if someone wanted to run circle, anyone would actually step up to the plate. Hole Miner not only stepped up, he jumped on the plate, cracked it, glued it back together and served a gourmet meal on it. Not really sure what the hell THAT means, but this virgin runner of circle did a phenomenal job – especially in light of the fact that it was a rather unruly crowd. He didn’t even get mad at me when I was stepping on his toes because I have that control freak like tendency! I’d like to nominate him to run all Full Moon circles! Anyone wanna second that motion?
I would also like to say thanks to all the people who drove all the way out to New Mexico for a hash, and barely bitched about it – especially Tranny Granny who came (hee hee) all the way from Glendale, and Blinded by Boobs who was leaving very early the next morning to hit the Tucson Hash Weekend.
And yes, although she didn’t actually do trail, she paid her fee, so officially Shut My Fucking Pie Hole was there for her 13th Full Moon Hash in a row. Only 7 months to go, and she’s gonna be the Queen!
Yes, as is seemingly becoming a Tradition in the Full Moon Hash, the cops showed up again. Noise complaints from the neighbors, and alleged underage drinking. Soon as we told ‘em there were no minors, that I was a resident, and that we’d get the volume down, they said thanks and went on their merry way. We did lie about people peeing in public, though……….
Too Short brought some young guy he picked up at a bar last week, Fernando, who thought he was going to a party. When we explained what we were actually about, he ran home, changed into some more appropriate hashing attire, and joined back in with quite a fervor. In circle, he kept trying to tell us he had a song! He had a song! DAMMIT I HAVE A SONG!!!!! So, I finally made up some lame charge to give someone and allowed him to sing his song. Although I can’t remember all the words right now, it is seriously hash worthy, and I do believe we will be incorporating it into our retinue. As Fernando drunkenly staggered home, he was heard to say, “This rocks. You guys fuckin’ rock. I am SO cumming again…..”
We did try to name Just Pete, but couldn’t cum up with anything worthy of him. And now that everyone knows that “Table It” means these names all suck, and we’re putting this off until later, we tabled it.
However, we picked up where we left off at last Saturday’s Evil Twin’s Hash, and continued the naming process for the hasher previously known as Just Ola. (Notice: There’s no G in her name, Dumbo.) Saturday, she had to leave to pick up her Mom at the airport. We had interrogated her then, and when we tried to do that again on Friday, she just kept saying, “We’ve been through this” and “I’ve already done this.” Did we care? Hell no. So we sent all the virgins away, rehashed (pun intended) the names we had cum up with previously. First was P.S.T.D. which stood for Post Sexual Traumatic Disorder. This was because she was abandoned on trail with Dumbo at the Evil Twin Hash. The other predominant name was Pissanya, Pissanya, Pissanya – In Polish that Means I Love You (calling her Pissanya for short) because of her escapades at the Parker Hash. In case you haven’t heard, she peed on someones head.
Pissanya won by a landslide. So we called everyone back, told Just Pete he sucked too much to get a name yet, whereupon he cried like a little girl, and proceeded to tell the hasher previously known as Just Ola the stories behind what we came up with for her name. In the middle of the Parker story, she says, “I’m European. We do that.” That’s when Pie Hole didn’t Shut It, and came up with a new and better name. So, for the first time that I’ve ever seen in 11+ years of hashing, we shoved the virgins back out of the circle, re-voted with I believe a unanimous decision and Pissanya flew right out the window.
The hasher previously known as Just Ola is now and forever more known as – Yura Peein’ on Me. (That’s my interpretation of the spelling, and is up for debate as it wasn’t decided on in circle.) Sounds like European On Me. Great job there, Pie Hole!
On after was at the Native New Yorker, which I missed because – by that time in the evening – I was pretty shitfaced drunk, made the decision that I had had enough to drink, and didn’t need to drive. I did, however, grab one last beer out of the bin as I toddled up to bed. Thankfully, Boobs had his GPS, so I heard that over half the people went there after the hash. YAY!
-Bitch ‘N Hoe
So there I was, standing in the parking lot, having been dropped off in this strange land known as the Dale of Scotts, looking for fellow hashers. There were none to be found; there were just tons and tons of families with little kids kicking and screaming all over. What was this nonsense?! As I stood bewildered, trying to double-check the website, Cum Again drives up and thank god I recognized such a fellow hasher. We roamed the lot for a bit and then discovered some scant on-arrow chalked on the pavement. The start had been moved last minute…this was sure to be a great hash.
Driving around the new parking lot for at least ten minutes, we finally found the beer. Chalk talk started and ended without neither the hares or hounds knowing exactly which marks were checks and which ones would never show up on trail at all. Another promising sign.
Walkers were away with the other hounds to follow closely behind. After not even a few hundred yards, the entire pack lost trail and the cursing began. Eventually, someone sniffed out a mark leading into the barrio and off we were again.
Trail led through some apartment complexes, neighborhoods, and under/over a creek, disappearing a few times and being, of course, poorly marked. Who let a ‘Just’ hare this thing?! The normal pavement pounding occurred, a beer stop was enjoyed, and a few hounds (and their hounds) eventually made it to the promised ‘On-Over’ mark. We quickly realized that this was becoming NOT the most dog-friendly hash ever as I helped try to throw someone’s dog over the wall, unsuccessfully. One brave hasher tried to squeeze herself under the wall, but those damn boobs always get in the way.
While we try to wait for the rest of the pack to regroup and find a way around, the “owners” of the wall, a crotchety old couple, came over with growls and threats aspewin’. I think the old man with the tracheotomy really put the final touches on an already hilarious situation. As the brave hounds who had climbed the wall headed on to find trail and the rest of the pack, a few hashers made it very obvious to the couple that we did not like them and bid them adieu.
After being harassed by autohashers Dick in a Dirty Box and Pubic Zirconium, the pack eventually found its way back to what was supposed to be the original A. I thought trail was over, but we finished the beer check and still had a jaunt back up the road to Jackrabbit before attacking the snacks and beer. Circle started, down-downs were generously given (especially to those pesky auto hashers with a pair of bloody knees from a blow-job-on-trail). Accusations were aplenty and some skin was showed. The snack truck was assaulted by an over zealous park cop and we swang low in good order, but without honor to this visiting hasher. I’ll take that IOU for next time, you wanks and wenches.
On-after at Duke’s was a blast, so thanks for the shitty trail and the always good times.