Start: The dead end of Custis Parkway, Falls Church, VA
Finish: The lovely domicile of GBOF and BME.
(sing it with me)
Blue Ridge. Do you call to all your children like you 'been callin'
me? Blue Ridge. Why are you callin' me home? (the relevance
of this will become apparent to you true-bluegrass fans in the crowd.
The rest of you probably won't ask about it, which, I assure you, is OK
w/ the rest of us)
We gathered at the dead-end of the first Custis Parkway, in front of a well-shaded park. Folks we hadn't seen in ages arrived, seemingly cumming out of the woodwork. Realizing that bodily fluids aren't good for wood, the scribes decided (well, hell, Oil decided this … Fussy is asleep in the other room!) to call this the cumming out hash. Dumb Blonde, Transparent D's, Looney, Road Map, Roto, Pork Me the Other White Meat, $50 Bitch, Duck Job, Aunt Flow, Barney's Bitch, Missed Erections and Byte Lightning (sans hard hat, of course) all showed.
We waited for hares away. Then they were off. Roto led us in an unusual rendition of Father Abraham which I'll share w/ you:
Spencer Abraham had fuel from the sun
(fuel from the sun?)
Fuel from the sun had Spencer Abraham.
And there were no rate hikes.
There were no black-outs. All he did was go like this … (flicking
a light switch on) … with a left …!
And then we were off. Walking.
Here's a little tid-bit I didn't know about my first few trips to MV
-- we walk for five minutes after the pack starts. Hmmm … I
noticed four people not armed w/ this info on this week's trail.
Five minutes later, we ran.
All was well and good until a member of the Porto family, Little Stool,
managed to injure himself and proceeded to bleed profusely, albeit [Scribe's
self-indulgent, stream-of-consciousness self-dialogue… hey! I got
to use that word, albeit, probably inappropriately but twice, nonetheless,
two times in two weeks! One more and it's mine forever, or so my
7th grade teacher always told me. Short Bus?] … superficially.
A lady from a nearby household came out to help our injured hasher and
proceeded to berate us all for our foolish foray into the forest.
Wanting desperately to make amends for our lack of foresight, the pack
decided to rename LS, Bloody Stool. We were all happy that we had
rectum-ified the situation. Speaking of rectums, Fossil's dog, ___,
(oh hell, I forget the 4-legged bitch's long-ass hash name he told me)
took a Chernobyl-style dump on trail. Yer'Anus approved.
Our RA's brought us a perfect day for hashing. On the runner's trail I saw happy families walking their dogs and children, proud homeowners tending their lawns, day labor waiting for a job, and good people washing their cars. Yes, today was a perfect hashing day. And so it was with our heroes, Hard Drive and Put It Out. Skipping merrily along, the pair used their extraordinary skills of reason to correct syntax errors in the trail markings. Later in the morning our duo came upon an unfortunate soul who was entering an epileptic seizure. The seizure victim's companions were making jokes and not helping so, once again in an act of shear selflessness (not to mention the opportunity to feel up a complete stranger) our heroes went to work saving the victim.
Meanwhile the rest of the pack, "led" by Tore Ass and Quick Drawers on one end, doggedly pursued the hares. Rounding a corner, I found Hawaiian Puke, Turkey Timer, and Goofy on trail looking rather suspicious. Just past the water stop I spied Dr. Jekyll and Cunning Runt seated under an oak tree slathering their buns -- those two are so fond of their baked goods. Roto took a wrong turn on the runner's trail (following QD?) and joined the walkers at the ladder into the storm drain. There Fussy Bitch, Continental Drip, Flying Burrito, Stained Sheets, Just Terry, Black Box, Furrball, Screws Everybody, and Hot Legs were all witness to a disgruntled housewife berating Bloody Stool for injuring himself. Perhaps she was worried that his acid-blood would taint the water table? Anywho this woman was pissed. To make matters worse, our walkers thought the woman was yelling at her husband instead of them and completely ignored her.
On-In
VIRGINS (who made them cum): Just Jillian & Just Joshua (Porto Potty), Just Tony (Mr. Happy Pockets) and Just Danielle (Mousie Tongue -- Rocky Whore, better keep an eye out for her!)
VISITORS: Organ Icer (didn't she visit 2 weeks ago?), Mr. Happy Pockets (thanks for dragging the dregs along w/ you!), Dwelf (isn't that a sex sound?), Boy Toy, Wanks with Wolves (a name very popular amongst MV'ites), Yer'Anus, Manitae [sic], and our Justs -- Angie and Jamie.
RETURNERS: Barney's Bitch, Son O' Samantha, Pork Me the Other White Meat, Roto, Road Map (any relation to CSRW?), Ich Liebe Dick (and we're so glad you do!), "Ont" Flow, Missed Erections, Dumb Blonde, Transparent D's, Diaper, Have Dick Will Travel, Goofy, Chap a Quick Dick, Standard Deviant (I detect a pattern here), Porto Potty, Just Jean and our most (in)famous returner Just John Duffy.
ANNIVERSARIES:
Drawas, Quick-type: 475
Drive, Hard 415
Lightning, Byte 385
Everybody, Screws 155
Set, Perk A 105
Jewels, Family 69
HASH SHIT: This was a tough one this week. We had bleeding
Bloody Stool for which aide was denied by Aunt Flow. We also
had the pussy-whipped Blank Check who was sent on a shoe retrieval expedition
by his lovely better half, Rutro. BC was the clearcrowd favorite,
but not the favorite of our joint master, Black Box, who kept yelling “this
is not a democracy.” Oh yeah? Our defending Hash Shit (Hands Solo)
was pleased to relinquish control of the HS to Black Box, who, aptly pointed
out by an attentive nomination from Bad Dog, had tried to rig the jury
(a well-hung jury, Black Box?).
One Man One Hand and Two Lips in the Bush both celebrated birthdays this week. Both turned 25.
If you'll indulge me, please close your eyes again and relive the experience.
Black Box exclaiming, "I need a woman!"
Fodder for a sick mind.
Next Week’s Hash
Run: # 737
Date: August 11th, 2001
Hares:
Start:
Deeerections:
Pie? Mmm, think I'll have me some.