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Post by sucksonthebeach on Feb 24, 2006 18:27:50 GMT -5
Bring a virgin or pay triple, triple beer check, Big Brother is watchin Wildcard Hash.
$1 for the virgin bringers and $3 for the failures
Bring your own beaverages.
I-95 to Hollyweird Blvd (exit 20), go east young hasher a few feet and turn right into Stratfords or the Animal Clinic and find your way to the rear parking lot.
A to A trail.
ON AFTER at Stratfords with free meaty food.
Special attention was paid to the walkers' trail so we can all drink together.
ONON
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Post by Ex-Presidente on Feb 27, 2006 9:38:09 GMT -5
It's a little far from the start but isn't there a big Mardis Gras Festival at the beach tonight?
Okay I'll go with the prediction we go to the festival at the beach via public transportation (if I keep guessing, eventually some hare will listen).
OnOnCumAgain
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Post by ItsyBitsy on Feb 28, 2006 17:07:52 GMT -5
Hash Trash below from the XXX'ers...
"Big Brother"/aka Memorial Wild Card Hash
Here's what we saw, here's what we heard, and here's what we did...OK, to be honest, it's just what we can collectively remember after all that beer...we probably missed a bunch, but this is the best we got. If you saw, heard, or did anything different, we challenge you to post it yourself, and we hope you do.
As Virgin sacrifices were specially requested by the Hare Sucks On The Beach, it's a darned good thing that he brought some...though no one else did. (They were NFHN Ludwig/aka Bruce and NFHN Mark...NFHN Ed showed up on his own, so nobody got a discount for him. Many tried to claim the Virgin Dick as their own, but Sucks was having none of it.)
Only two of the promised 3 hares being present (we missed you, Liquor Briefs), confusion reigned supreme as the Head Hare (head!?! Who said head?!? I'll take some of that!) tried to explain the procedure for his so-called "Cum Again 'gimmick hash.' " (As an aside, two "gimmick hashes" in a row is apparently two too many for the Virgin Dick.) (I think many hashers cum to hash, and I certainly did. The gimmick hashes don't give me the pleasure of being an alpha-male dog chasing a hare with a pack of as part of a a pack of hounds. But that maybe just me. I tried to play the game (again), but got lost, couldn't find trail, got disgusted and came back for the circle. No criticism meant to the hare or anyone, it just wasn't for me---VD). Baggies of maps, coins, kisses, and occasionally beads were distributed to all.
Cold Porter was seen sporting a red shirt...an attempt to camouflage any potential future cranial or nipple bleeding?
Minor altercations between NFHN Dog Sandy and Chicken Plucker rang in the background while the merits of Dolph vs. Google maps were discussed ad infinitum...yet somehow and at long last the Pack set off for the City Link newsstand at City Hall (this being the last time Cum Again was seen until the post-Hash circle. He had a lovely solo-hash and $1 beers at the Broadwalk, so we heard).
The clue maps were easily found and the Pack headed for Suck's place on Calle Largo, where Jerry's Dog seemed right at home. One delightfully cold and frosty beer later, we headed off to celebrate the late Michael Sullivan's 30th birthday at the SE corner of Park Road and Luna Court (from this point on, the Virgin Dick, Cold Porter, and ASA were not seen until the post-Hash circle). Happy Birthday, Mike: we saw the empty bottle of tequila. We honor you as a Hasher who might have been.
After a non-eventful stretch, we arrived at the second beer check, where the Pack was tallied and found short...multiple whistles were blown to bring in the rangers, to no avail. Argentuna proposed that the XXXers go in search of the nearest barbed wire, hoping to find Cold Porter, but it was not to be as the Hare strenuously reminded the pack that there were three (count them: 3) beer checks, therefore returning to the cars prior to completion of all said checks (a la Belly Dancer's -- aka "the Giggler's" Miami hash) was not acceptable hash behavior.
The Pack split into three groups and headed toward the "statue of Joe"...aka another Dead Guy and therefore our second memorial stop of the evening. The third group, the walkers, was composed of AC/DC, Fill Me With Cream, Princess Layya of the Planet Naboo, PedalPhile, and Paid To Peep....who continues to insist that he'll run someday real soon.
Clues in trees...who'd have thunk it?!? (A nod to Stop The Bus My Friend Jack Wants To Get Off and his most excellent grapes of wrath clue at Stranahan House.)
And then on to "Pakr Road" -- what the f*?k was that!? -- and the 35 cent beer check...mmm, that was the best and cheapest beer ever! Finally, one more leg along Hollyweird Boulevard brought us back to the cars for the On In.
After a time, a confusing circle ensued, ran alternately by Antisocial Rager (rnager?) Itchy bitchy...oops...we mean Itsy Bitsy...and Cuming or Going. Though they tried valiantly, Tongue In Groove and Q Tits did not succeed in seeing any Virgin body parts. NFHN Mark told a shaggy dog about a bumblebee...NFHN Ed still owes an offering to the Pack. The festivities were broken up by the arrival of the Law on scene.
Situation diffused by H20-totaler Daily Double and friends, the police were put off with the promise that we were a "running club,"...at least for the present.
Circle was completed at the back entrance to Stratfords, where Ocean Pig (later seen resting face-down on his bar table) passed the torch of "Stud Hasher" to Itsy Bitsy. Sucks On The Beach passed the gloriously-adorned Hashit on to cheery Leaky Sack, bearer of the colored Mardi Gras beads from the originally- distributed baggies. (Itsy Bitsy provided Mardi Gras switchplate masks which would look quite striking as epaulets the next time the Hashit surfaces...just a thought. Leaky Sack said he had embellishment ideas of his own...which may involve Thai Wraps.)
Two pizzas were delivered and devoured, as was Liquor Briefs' delectable sushi: consumed with gusto.
A duel was requested, and accepted, for a game of Virgin vs. Veteran Hasher billiards, and the party segued into Stratford's. Certain Hashers elected not to celebrate the on-after, after being told that the promised hot dogs (which probably wouldn't have been Kosher anyway, Dicklomat, aka DiploDick) would not be forthcoming.
Just as the Virgins somehow beat the veteran Hashers at the pool table (do I hear rematch?), a dispute rang out between Sucks and the local rabble. Various Hashers dashed to the rescue, while others scampered out random exits.
Once again, the Hollyweird Law arrived en scene, questioning Hashers and Stratfordians alike. After discerning that the real situation would take multiple weeks and reams of boring forms to sort out, the police let the Hash go in peace.
Your Hare was last seen ducking between two apartment buildings with Ludwig (the friendly German guy) and devoted Hash hound Chicken Plucker, abandoning the safety of his truck for the anonymity of the streets.
That's all we know...that's what we saw...if you disagree, you're welcome to tell everyone your side of the story.
Respectfully signed -- Q, Tig, and Daily...aka the XXXers
(as if respect is acceptable hash bvehavior)
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