Post by threeandahalf on Jun 8, 2006 9:02:48 GMT -5
Here's another trash from the Atlanta 666 hash I ran. They usually do a 2-4-Tuesday, which is the second Tuesday of the month, but they moved it to 666 because, well, because.
I figured the Tuesday night 666 hash was a good place to be if the Rapture came last night.
The Rapture didn't come, but we still had fun. The hash met south of Little Five Points, in front of the Kroger. In keeping with my time in Atlanta, I have forgotten the hares' names. [Update: I looked on the website, and it was I Da Ho, and Portugese Water Dog]. I Da Ho was looking fine in her devil-may-care outfit, complete with red wig, horns, and come-play-with-me boots. There was quite a turnout of hashers; even EM and Head Nurse showed up.
The chalk talk was nice, and included references to Sinful Vistas, Sin Near marks, YBFs (You've Been Fried in Hell), but the best mark was the special check mark for the evening: the pentacle. Plus the hares had tattoos on offer. I got a nice flame on the back of my hand, but I was really disappointed later when I found out it was only temporary.
I do remember one name from the evening, when I met Pornocopia, who was missing a sock. I donated her a pair of slightly used Doggie Style socks. It took her about ten minutes to get dog poo on them once the run started.
Once the run started we quickly hit the first Sin Stop. Actually it was a Hot damn stop, as the hares were passing out shots of Hot damn, which tastes like they poured grain alcohol into a jar full of Atomic Fireballs, and then poured it back out again. Mmm good.
From there the trail wound around and through LIttle Five, before ending near an under-construction house. We had to wail a while for all the hounds to get in, but eventually Humpty Dumpty and the rest of them made it.
There was a little confusion on the way to the third beer check, but we got there okay. Even HIV made it. We sat on a low wall, eating the chips meant for the circle, and drinking the circle beer. We were interrupted once by a woman who claimed she had her boyfriend's head in her purse, but she moved on. We left before she came back.
Then it was on to the end. It wasn't far, and it ended in a vacant lot next to an apartment building (foreshadowing). I forget who ran the circle, but it went well. He did it backwards because of 666, so we began with rule 6 violations, and proceded backwards to the hare. As we were finishing up, two cars of Atlanta's finest rolled up. They were in a good mood, so it worked out that we just had to pack up and go. They did stick around to make sure we left.
The hare was waxing rhapsodic about the blood wrestling at a nearby bar, but when we got there we found that it had a $10 cover charge. So we went to the
basement of the Claremont instead. In all the time that I've spent in Atlanta I never knew that the Claremont had an exotic dancing club in the basement. I learned something at the hash. They had a nice chunky goth girl painted up in blue colors dancing there. I took a few photos, but didn't really want to use the flash, so it's hard to see what they are. I think the second one is of a Spanish language video poker machine.
When we finally left, we had a long walk ahead of us. High Balls (he's the smart one) finally hailed a cab for us. Good idea. We arrived back at the parking lot to find that yr fthfl scribe had somehow lost the car key. Oh. So, after a call to HIV's life partner we sat around in the parking lot with Humpty Dumpty and that guy whose hash name I forget, eating spicy peanuts and swapping insults about who could be dumb enough to lose the car key. Then Julie showed up with the replacement, and all was well.
I figured the Tuesday night 666 hash was a good place to be if the Rapture came last night.
The Rapture didn't come, but we still had fun. The hash met south of Little Five Points, in front of the Kroger. In keeping with my time in Atlanta, I have forgotten the hares' names. [Update: I looked on the website, and it was I Da Ho, and Portugese Water Dog]. I Da Ho was looking fine in her devil-may-care outfit, complete with red wig, horns, and come-play-with-me boots. There was quite a turnout of hashers; even EM and Head Nurse showed up.
The chalk talk was nice, and included references to Sinful Vistas, Sin Near marks, YBFs (You've Been Fried in Hell), but the best mark was the special check mark for the evening: the pentacle. Plus the hares had tattoos on offer. I got a nice flame on the back of my hand, but I was really disappointed later when I found out it was only temporary.
I do remember one name from the evening, when I met Pornocopia, who was missing a sock. I donated her a pair of slightly used Doggie Style socks. It took her about ten minutes to get dog poo on them once the run started.
Once the run started we quickly hit the first Sin Stop. Actually it was a Hot damn stop, as the hares were passing out shots of Hot damn, which tastes like they poured grain alcohol into a jar full of Atomic Fireballs, and then poured it back out again. Mmm good.
From there the trail wound around and through LIttle Five, before ending near an under-construction house. We had to wail a while for all the hounds to get in, but eventually Humpty Dumpty and the rest of them made it.
There was a little confusion on the way to the third beer check, but we got there okay. Even HIV made it. We sat on a low wall, eating the chips meant for the circle, and drinking the circle beer. We were interrupted once by a woman who claimed she had her boyfriend's head in her purse, but she moved on. We left before she came back.
Then it was on to the end. It wasn't far, and it ended in a vacant lot next to an apartment building (foreshadowing). I forget who ran the circle, but it went well. He did it backwards because of 666, so we began with rule 6 violations, and proceded backwards to the hare. As we were finishing up, two cars of Atlanta's finest rolled up. They were in a good mood, so it worked out that we just had to pack up and go. They did stick around to make sure we left.
The hare was waxing rhapsodic about the blood wrestling at a nearby bar, but when we got there we found that it had a $10 cover charge. So we went to the
basement of the Claremont instead. In all the time that I've spent in Atlanta I never knew that the Claremont had an exotic dancing club in the basement. I learned something at the hash. They had a nice chunky goth girl painted up in blue colors dancing there. I took a few photos, but didn't really want to use the flash, so it's hard to see what they are. I think the second one is of a Spanish language video poker machine.
When we finally left, we had a long walk ahead of us. High Balls (he's the smart one) finally hailed a cab for us. Good idea. We arrived back at the parking lot to find that yr fthfl scribe had somehow lost the car key. Oh. So, after a call to HIV's life partner we sat around in the parking lot with Humpty Dumpty and that guy whose hash name I forget, eating spicy peanuts and swapping insults about who could be dumb enough to lose the car key. Then Julie showed up with the replacement, and all was well.
