Hare Blessing

Hash Trash

Thursday night wankers gathered at “The Claw” for starter beers among USF golfers. The dead trail promised beer at finish, so we were psyched! Just Luis came back to play, our out-of-towner FRB, Lost My Balls came back to attempt a back-to-back win, and brought us Just Ange. Fatbastard graced us with his kilt and Cockarazzi was visiting from San Antonio. We didn’t see Saigon Sally, however we new he’d sneak up on us!

The Pack left in three heats, the Eagles, the Taint, and the Turkeys. The hares were also the beer angels with GRC behind the wheel; that got scary, but more on that later. The Pack looped around multiple communal living areas and circled around 69 fenced in areas as it grew dark. This is where being in the Taint heat got hairy (okay, that was funny)! The pack stretched out and Ingrid, Cockarazzi and I were left to fend for ourselves as we were caught in no-man’s land. We saw a few eagle pack arrows, but for the life of us, we couldn’t figure out who owned the pack arrow that looked like a child's drawing of a butt. But then again, it might have been a designated spot for a butt-chug check; which gives me a good idea for my next live haring.

The Beer Stop was on the other side of 169-foot-tall brick wall. While the tall wankers were busy focusing on the keg (don’t worry Shetland & Cockarazzi, I won’t name any names), a few of us short and handicapped wankers were fighting a challenge on the outside of the wall; how to get my happy ass over without the use of an extremity and avoiding the toothpick-thin “log” that was supposed to assist the climb. Thanks to Ingrid and GatorAte, we all made it to the non-handicapped accessible hash halt. By the time I got to the keg, I had 3 seconds to chug some beer while the eagles (including Saigon Sally!) had already taken their mid-evening nap at the beer stop. This is where the scary stuff began; we were directed by GRC to what seemed like a legitimate entrance to the second half of the trail. It ended up to be another frigging loop which put us right back to the beer stop, so we could be run over by the beer van. I now know what it feels like to be part of a herd of deer frozen in the headlights of a large van driven by Mad Max. We trudged on to find the rest of trail after exercising our index fingers in the blinding brightness of the headlamps. While we thought we were safe, the beer van sped down the wrong side of the street, making a hairpin turn just in time to avoid a head-on collision and our bodies were moving targets once again. Good thing GRC had the driving skills of Dale Earnhardt Sr. (did I mention he’s dead?). There was much shortcutting on the second half of trail, as the Pack woke up and figured out exactly how many trail loops it took for us to wise up and get to finish.

Circle commenced after a short headcount and vessels were filled. Trail trial brought up a few disgruntled wankers mentioning the twig that was supposed to get us over the Wall of China, and Mad Max who tried to mow us down on trail more than once. Fatbastard and Cockarazzi entertained us with some great hash songs, and Lost My Balls drank for taking the 1,069 pound chain once again, obtaining his back-to-back win. Blow jobs were given, and I must mention that U-Drive I’ll F*ck gave her virgin blowjob debut. How did we know this? She left the wrapper on. I’m sure that is a first in Jolly Roger H3 history! Nauti Call Girl was tied up for 25 hashes (wait, that doesn’t sound like what I meant to say) and Dab was bound for 425 hashes; most of us will die before we get that many hashes with the Jolly Roger H3. Fatbastard won the brainless award and drank it all, including the 269 cheesy balls that were swimming in it. Perhaps next time he’ll make his circle-run a bit quicker.

Swing Low brought circle to a close, and we all got a piece.

On-On!
Casual Friday