Lost Boobs Hash Trash #163
February 10, 2014
Incapacitating Sand Hash 8===> Cream Job Hash
Thanks be to “G” a haring emergency was narrowly averted. Hare Number One Flux Incapacitated was supposedly too sick to hare, however imagine the surprise when she showed up to hash! Which brings us to the Flux Incapacitated Sickness Test, also known as FIST:
1 FIST = too sick to work
2 FISTs = too sick to hare
3 FISTs = too sick to hash
4 FISTs = too sick to fuck
5 FISTs = no one has EVER been this sick…checking the internet …. … … …. wait… …nope, no one.
Fortunately, Hare Number Two, Sand Job, was not left hanging. Field of Creams generously filled the gap, as did Just Cristina. Just Christina, who has been hashing for a paltry 3-4 months, hared while wearing only one contact lens! Two good eyes are needed to watch this bimbo; she’s hot and she’s going places!
This hash started in Tempe, for the sheer novelty. Haven’t hashed in Tempe for ages! Servers at Doc and Eddy’s seemed like they didn’t really care, except for Diamond! He’s my hero! The nachos were so angry about being consumed, they demanded to talk to Ralph on the big white phone.
As for trail, it was as shitty as expected. A true trail mark led into an alley, only to force an on-over. C’mon hares, really? Soon after, the pack sent through a babbling brook. That would have been totally cool, if it weren’t for the endangered Galipsigos Cockatiel, that was harmed and harassed. Nevermind the IRS; the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service might be after the hash.
Several On-Overs left casualties. UPMS’s dog, Leaper (the black one), was thoroughly ungrateful to Pandwhora’s Box for help over the wall. Leaper ran off, dragging PB with him for a few feet, which is quite a feat. Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Rectum admitted to helping some bitches over the wall, and some dogs, too. Later on trail, Leaper, or perhaps PBR (the cool one) took a messy shit on trail (FIST = 2.5)
As the pack ran by, an old guy asked what charity we were running for. We said we were running for beer and asked if he wanted to make a donation.
“Wow this feels so weird,” quipped Flux Incapacitated as she zenned to BN. “It is all the pleasure and none of the work!” (Every hashers dream, BTW.) Princess Labia rode his bicycle to the hash, but couldn’t risk soiling his good biking clothes on trail. The perennial shit award winner instead chose to ride bitch with the beer angel. Buttwiper was all puckered up because he was afraid someone would steal his shit award. At circle, Donkey earned it fair and square, for the results of his efficiency experiment producing Get-a-Life t-shirts at a rate of 0.5 shirts per week (that’s a lightning 0.002 shirts per hour!!). And he’s not done yet!
A Tempe cop showed up at BN. Bitch N’ Hoe gave him the scoop. Then he gave a pretty little speech to the hashers about being fine, upstanding citizens and not getting into trouble. He pretty much said he didn’t want to cite anyone for drinking beer in the park, “because it would hurt me more than it would hurt you.” He was pretty chill, for a cop.
Just Arian and Just K.Z. provided their preference for what they like to have in their mouth:
5. Chocolate
4. Kebab
3. Beer
2. Pussy
1. Rice
Rice is only first since they can’t get all their vitamins from eating pussy.
Diamonds And Hurls approached Behold My Bush to inquire as to the status of hash trash from last week (#162). According to DH, BMB had only one job, to produce hash trash. Apparently, DH thinks beer will just drink itself or internet porn just magically appears for free. To add insult to injury, he called me Nancy Drew. If you solve the Mystery of the Missing Hash Trash, pick up the phone, ask the operator to connect you and then tell it to the Hardy Boys.
Yours Truly,
Behold My Bush