Hash Trash

A detailed report by the hashers..

#955-The BASH...  confusion, poor decisions and the refund hash part deux

Oh what a beautiful day to begin my favorite hash the always fun, always entertaining Bash. We all met excitedly at the On-On with a variety of bikes, including Roid’s very tall, very long unicycle. Does the height of your bike have the same meaning as the length of your feet? Mmm, makes me wonder. AC/DC was a mess with his bike in so many parts that all the kings horses and all the kings men could not fix AC/DC bike again. Was this an indication of what may cum?

After the introductions and quick lesson on hashing, the virgins where set free with ToeFU’s cell number laminated around the female virgin’s neck. Times must be tough, we went from dog collars to yarn and a laminated sign. NFB set us in the correct direction with a shout to head toward the cemetery? This is where the confusion starts, some went right, most went left? Which cemetery? Aulenbach’s or the one on the South side? Most of the lemmings headed down Fairview, passing the cemetery with no regard to the hare’s direction. Lost already? Some headed toward the Viaduct where OnOn was shouted. YEAH! After seeing a scant few markings, we climbed up a beautiful trail to Engleman’s park feeling confident about the trail.

Our confidence quickly evaporated, as no one seem to be able to find the trail, again. Most went left, I did not and disappeared from the pack with Silver Bullet Virgin deep into the woods behind the lake (Poor decision #1). After locating the road, we decided to head left where we quickly came on the pack. Happily, we all followed the trail which seemed very light on the markings. At the base of the Pagoda the pack was divided, some went down, some went up. Poor decision #2, was going up with no markings, clearly off trail and pushing my bike to boot. Almost at the top, with Skyline drive in view, I heard someone shout On-On at the bottom. Fuck! Those near the top of Skyline, either headed left which lead them to an incredible ride down Skyline to the first beer stop OR right down Skyline to who knows where? At this point, I was terribly hot and thirsty and running on empty. No beer near? WTF.

Poor decision #3 (kind of): Mantits, Frank Burns, a laminated virgin, Squeeze me and myself. Decided to head back toward Engleman’s and then back to the On-On. We enjoyed our downhill trail ride from the fire tower, stopping to re-group and wait for our virgin, take in some wildlife and the beauty of the day and a ride around the rim.(ha-ha, you missed out!)

When we arrived back at the On-On we were told that circle up would be at the top of 23rd street. We happily hightailed it over there with visions of cold beer dancing in our heads. We found several very hot and sweaty hashers lounging in the shade, including our beloved GM.

Much discussion and phone calls were made trying to figure out where the hell we were supposed to circle up. Rumors started flying around - Canal Street? RACC parking garage? Turtleheads house? Francesca’s?. Confusion reined. Finally, we decided that the Apres must be at Francesca’s. We all headed there. I was treated to my first beer of the day, thanks to Old News. We were all feeling better, and chatting about where/when/how we got lost, where we ended up, did anyone find a beer stop? Slowly everyone trickled in. We circled up, drank our down-downs, even had one of the bar patrons join in the festivities. Laughed and sang. Soon all the frustrations of lost trail were forgotten. The last hash this poorly marked, where confusion reined was the ‘I want a fucking refund’ hash.

All in all. It was a good day, getting lost in the woods with like minded people on a picture perfect day, doing what we love….it’s good to be us.

Choo-Choo


#954 The FLASH (Float Hash)

The flash started and there were three virgins in circle.  ToeFU decided to give Old News’s virgin orange floaties, because he cares about the safety of his virgins. Cougar Bait took an extremely long time to show the trail marks, which you think he would have perfected after laying the trail twice.  We headed off towards Troopers, we were following trail with no shortages of checks. Opto found the one and only False and a lost dog. We hope that he made it home safely.  Then we were off again through a park and a baseball field where we found BEER NEAR, but there was no beers near.  We looked in the trees, in the trash cans and in the porta-potty and there were no beers in sight…. We were off down a little bank and much to our pleasure a trash bag full of Hamms and Lion’s Head.  Deliciously refreshing.

And just like that we were off down some shiggy and into the woods, where a perfectly laid true trail was lying next to a homeless man’s shirt, and out on trail and soon we crossed a creek to find Shots Near on the shore. Everyone was enjoying the “Bullet Bourbon” that had been carefully aged in the back of Crack's car for several months…. No wonder it burned.  We made our way through the park and to the hospital.   With only some slight confusion during a check at the emergency room entrance-we all ran around aimlessly for a few minutes, but AA found marks and we were off through the parking lot and heading up to Penn Ave.  Where we cut through many pedestrians just trying to enjoying the Sunday market.  One even identified us as Hashers and we ran through yelling on, on and trying not to run anyone over.

After the market we ran straight down Penn Ave.  Over the Penn Street bridge where we made sure we checked 369 degrees to find the mark down on the railroads tracks, because what’s a hash without some railroad action? Am I right?  A short distance later we saw two boobs on the ground and we knew we were where we needed to be to float.  Everyone got changed and the floatation devices were blown up (but apparently very poorly according to Opto).

We all entered the water and we were off. It started off that everyone was very spaced out but we all managed to join together and create a large floating group.  Beers, jello shots, and shots of fire ball were enjoyed.  Tiny’s arms are obviously tired today because he did a lot of paddling.  Decoy definitely had the best floaty…who doesn’t love a shark.

Finally we made it to the rock and we all circled up (as best we could).  Cougar Bait had to save Old News’s precious blue cooler filled with Miller Lite and he dumped his kayak in the process, but managed to save the cooler.  Tiny also saved someone’s cooler!  Crack put his rock climbing skills to work with the help of Breast Stroaker to paint the rock. Old News’s virgin forgot to bring her floaties to circle. Unlike the dog collars, AA did not take these floaties!

Then we were off again… and as we left apparently Just Michelle made the discovery that RH3 had been painted on the rock…who could have done that?  Maybe those jello shots made her forget?

On-On

Pooperlicious


Pina Colada Hash
#953 7/10/17
It was a hot summer night as the pack of 34 meandered into a parking lot off of N. Park Road in Wyomissing. Promises of scantily dressed bimbos in coconut bras were grossly overrated. Oh, lest I forget, as the pack gathered there was NO BEER! Say it ain't so! Hottest day of the year thus far and the pack was parched long before the first On-On was called out! Fortunately, our all-powerful, all-knowing Grand Master ToeFU moved us to a shady spot ...just as beer arrived to get this party started.

Introductions were made and our gracious hares, Crack and Cougar Bait, were off to lay their "live" trail. 8 minutes they say?! Soooo, we drank and stared at our watches anxiously awaiting the start of our trail. At 4 minutes what do we hear? A train on the tracks laying on it's horn. There's our first clue! At 7 minutes as we're slowly starting to wander onto trail 4 NEW BOOTS SHOW UP. SERIOUSLY???!!!! Somebody's going to drink for that one (Sucky Sucker!).

Finally On-On is yelled and the pack is off. Some went the direction of the hares, others practiced the "Dogbreath 180 Rule" and went the other way. This group quickly found flour in the opposite direction and the pack was off. Over tracks, over bridges, under bridges, across parking lots until, alas!, we were greeted by the lovely Hot For Teacher pouring pina colada shots! As the front of the pack was enjoying shots, one of our new boots came hashing through the parking lot on her own to join us. Hats off for a job well done!(sorry, names evade me 'cause I'm old and I was drinkin' and I cain't believe somebody axed me to write this trash), That's not whining or complaining.....just stating the facts!

Shots were enjoyed and the pack was off! Macadam, macadam and more macadam as we wandered through West Reading to a check near the Reading Hospital. Stumped for just a short while the pack was off again to the Reading Public Museum. Through the park, across the water to a check which baffled the masses! After serious consideration the group figured out we had to go back across the bridge to find the trail. To our hares....way to bring the pack back together!

Again, macadam begets macadam begets more macadam which became steps that went down to a check. Where does the trail go? Duh! Right UP the steps on the other side(as it should!) to more macadam which led to railroad tracks. Do we hash the tracks? Hell No!!! Just cross the tracks into an oxygen deprived place in the weeds. Why did we go there? BEER NEAR!!!

Back to the macadam.....eventually a check.....what happened to the trail? Oh yeah.....did ANYONE see that purple true trail arrow on the sidewalk???? On-In for some of us.....others took a little longer as we were eaten alive by the local mosquito residents!

Circle was joyous as always and to the On After at Brewers we went! Thanks for a shitty trail Crack and Cougar Bait!

Respectfully yours in hashing,
Horn of Plenty






RH3 #952 Fourth O' July
*** Disclaimer - I had 8 dirty bong water shots at the apres and blacked out after it; also I am doing this after the 953rd so I'm a few into it now***

Early morning at the fire tower - no homosexual hookups happening at dawn outside the hash. 53 no brains circled up with a few virgins - none of which brought the appropriate cash. ToeFU placed his new collar on the youngest female virgin and instructed her to yell rape, kick in balls and run the other way if accosted. She forgot very quickly. Off we went down the hill, up the hill, down the hill, up the hill. Mimosa stop for those that weren't racing. Up the hill, down the hill, up the hill, down a hill with an dirt enema into oncoming traffic to dodge around the lake. Finally, a beer stop. Wash off your dirty bods in the water fall if you dare. Down toward Stony Creek - thank God for the porta potty behind Antietam High School (never eat lots of hot peppers before an early morning hash). Skull and cross bones before the excellently engineered bridge - bounce, bend -- break? You survived that - now bend over further ---up the side of a mountain to shot stop and firecrakers - Old News was back in his youth trying to set the mountain ablaze. OK we are heading down along a "scenic overlook" or rocky cliff - you choose. Are we heading to Liberty ( too easy) - another Chinese apres? - nope -- back up another f^#kin hill to 422. Ok we are heading to Reiffton Fire Co. - nope just the circle where the racist bastards have been waiting for at least half hour. We waited another half hour until circle. Finally, all the kennel was together again picking dirt out of ass cracks, scratching poison, and drinking the nectar of the RH3 gods - Hamms, of course. ToeFU brought us into circle realizing that his collared virgin had been deflowered by the  Keystone fu#kers again. She did not yell, kick, and run. Perhaps GladHeAteHer benefitted from that later in the day? After all the pleasantries of the circle we headed to RFC for a wonderful Berks County breakfast, PBR, and, of course dirty bong water shots for those that brought some cash. Overall, an excellent way to celebrate our freedoms, the birth of the best country on this earth, and the best kennel going. God Bless America! God Bless RH3!

OnOn!

Breast Stroaker


#951 SuchoHo Hash 6/26/17

5:00pm prelube…where is everyone?  Check FB to make sure I’m at the right place.  Yep.  Hmmm…new mismanagement…??? It ain’t Foot Fairy…  5:19 new GM rolls in and mutters something about a new recruit at his office and having to quickly tell him this isn’t his only job as he throws the guy “How to Cure Foot Fungus Hasher Style”. Read up, greenbean…

6:15pm the circle up ensues behind “We Love You Long Time” family style restaurant (maybe not the actual name, but it’s my hash trash, I’ll call it what I want).  Sucky Sucker and Cho Cho were all dolled up in their Asian finery to greet us.  As the circle grew, you could feel the nervous energy wondering if ToeFU would be able to fill the comedic shoes of Foot Fairy.   Without missing a step, he begins circle with a mysterious bag.  The hashers immediately quieted down to listen.  Virgin Just Teresa was called into circle and out of the bag was pulled a beautiful doggie collar, complete with engraved, bone-shaped dog tag.  No longer would any virgin be left to fend for themselves as was previously the case. In the event of losing the pack, they could go to the nearest civilian and be brought back to their rightful owner, ToeFU.

6:30ish the Hashers take off, only to be rerouted by the Hares up a shiggy infested hill.  At the top of the hill, it was decided to run across Perkiomen Avenue.  We all know this is dangerous, including our two virgins, but Decoy assures them we do this all the time and to just "run fast!".  As we run the back hills of Reiffton, looking for true trail, some smart A-type runner, posing as a hasher, makes a prediction that the first beer check could be at the infamous Ron Horn’s house…hmmm…???  Not sure whether any of us knew exactly where he lived, but barreling out of the shiggy, wooded, "No Trespassing" area, the pack headed for the neighborhood below.  "Beer Near" was called out shortly thereafter, and low and behold, Helene and Ron greeted us all to their backyard – Pretzel City snacks and all!  

7:ish something – the pack is off again.  How could we hash in Reiffton without crossing the Antietam Creek?  Little did we know, we would have to run a mile through it.  I ran much of it with Dancing with Whores and kept thinking his name could easily be changed to Dancing with Rocks because every time I looked over it appeared he was sashaying around them or trying out a new low dip.  At this point, the pack was evenly broken apart.  We found out later, half were following true trail and the other were not.  Whatever.  We all found our way back because... hey, we’re hashers and that’s what we do.  I will say this…the ones that followed true trail were covered in burrs and those little green things they will find in their bed, underwear and car seats for months on end.  Ask Old News and Decoy, if you don’t believe me.

There was some mild concern for the eight hashers who appeared to be lost on trail (apparently our new bugle blower needs to slow the fuck down and blow longer and harder), so in true hash style, we began On In without them.  Our new GM was really hoping he could convince Virgin Just Teresa to opt for option, but this girl, true blue rugby player, was having none of that and downed her beer(s) in a style that made our best down downers look on in awe! A song or two were sung and out of the shiggy appeared our remaining hashers, including Virgin Matt, who supposedly I was responsible for…again…whatevs….  

In final, this hash was hashtasic!  GM ToeFU stepped up and owned his hashers, and gave further proof of his reign by exhibiting a ball gag to be worn by anyone who steps out of line.  In addition,  we’ve never been fed Chinese ...the food, not the people...at any on-after before. It was Asia-a-lious!  We were all covered in wet, shiggy, muck and all accounted for. Hash #951 was a success, and we all look forward to the next 49.  This is Just Lays There reporting for the hash – ON OUT. 


P.S.:  Whoever stole the dog collar, give it the F’ back!


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Reading HHH — 950th—June 10-11, 


Proper Planning Prevents Piss Poor Performance! It was only 16 months since our last 50th Celebration – but after a few stutter hashes (936, 936 936) Foot Fairy had finally achieved the zenith of his GM-Ship and did so before his wife had the divorce papers delivered. Gathering his mismanagement early in the year, he told them of his plans – Tidy’s farm, goats, busses, bonfire, beer, barbeque, Bubba, and oh yeah… Toga’s! And with the dedication that can only be ascribed to fear that Foot would find a way to have himself declared “GM FOR LIFE!” the Mismanagement started planning for this debacle – trading sexual favors for Port-a-Potty discounts, stealing shit from work, bribing the local constabulary, and promising Tidy & LittleMan that we’d pull out before the weekend was over. 

And then--- after a blur of registrations and just a tiny amount of promotion– the day was upon us. The first nice weekend of the year – heck, even God wanted Foot to get this thing over with! At 10:00 AM, the HAMMS were iced, the party tents were erected, and the registration table was open. Standing atop the hill, Foot declared “Let’s Drink Bitches!!!” and the game was afoot. 

Hashers from Rochester to Richmond, from Pittsburgh to Points East started filling the lot with their SUV’s, campers and junkers, and started filling the lower 40 with enough tents to host a refugee camp. A gentle breeze wafted a sweet sweet smell up the valley – mmm….that smell of fresh nylon, mixed with just a touch of mildew and goatshit. Hammers were placed to tent stakes – Beulah Ballbreaker put up a monstrosity that – were it Gold plated – would have been a great place for Melania Trump to hide from her abuser. Meanwhile the folks from LVH3 placed their orgy tent right up next to the fence so they could hotswitch from feeling up Reading’s fine bims to blowing goats without missing a beat. These guys are fucking professionals. Sex-A-Sketch brought enough glitter with him to start his own Pride parade. 

And then--- like the Sirens’ Song, those magical words “Circle Up You Fuckers” were broadcast by megaphone. FootFairy took charge, introducing our (soon to be deflowered) virgin, Just Jordyn, calling the hares, and then allowing all 90 of us to learn the names of the folk with whom we’d soon be sharing a prison cell. On-UP to two school buses and we were on the way to Kutztown. 


Yellow School Buses — Not Just For Pedophiles Anymore!! I was on the 2nd bus….the one that wasn’t full to the brim with all the Type A fuckers who had to be on the first bus…. And I just have to say this. The other bus sucked. (Plus we had “Just Kylie” who could possibly have killed everyone on the first bus by smashing them between her forearm and her just massive biceps. Yeah… oh, sorry – got a little excited there. Then again, we also had Anal Leakage (or Alan Neakage as he’s known on Grindr) who took exception to the “There are no real hashers from France” song. When we arrived in Kutztown, NFB barked some orders at us. The pack was off – circling young men playing with balls (and in the case of AC/DC – swatting at those balls with wooden bats) and then up through Kutztown park and some type of pay-todrink event that didn’t involve hashing, but was replete with hashers who decided to pay money to get drunk there, instead of with us on trail (I’m looking at YOU, ‘Cums When She Pleases’). Finally the trail got serious and we crossed Rt 222 headed into some shiggy. Most of the pack headed up to the cell tower on top of the hill, but following the oldbies (Swamp and Stupid Brother) on a DogBreath 180 trail, I blew through a false and quickly found flour in the woods, arriving at the beercheck (and Turkey-Trail On-ON Point) only to find MORE HAMMS.


Fountains of Piss! Those of us not too Type-Asshole waited for the rest of the fucking pack, consumed our beers, and posed for some glamour shots with In-U-End-O, and headed off across the raging Saucony Creek. The pack went right ….. so ….. we went left and soon caught up to the back of the Turkeys. A trip through the woods and a dip under Rt 222 and we found ourselves on the edge of the Kutztown Fairgrounds. Logic would have the buses waiting for us at the bus terminal, but you know…. Fuck logic. Trail was found on the K-Town University Campus, heading right through Alumni Plaza (which is a really expensive way of saying ‘Big Fountain of Recycled Piss’). Up and over Main Street, the trail dipped under Old Main and headed toward the LGBTQ resource center, then down and around one of the several fieldhouses to the ancestral home of the NFB clan where MORE HAMMS awaited.

 After our bus drivers got back from scoring some opiods from the locals we got back on the buses to head back to the Farm. This time I got on the first bus – and I can once again confirm that the SECOND BUS sucked. Fucking magic how that shit happens to me, but why can’t I win the damn PowerBall? Back at the Farm, beers and edibles were consumed, and our host Tidy Bowl rolled out the white carpet (aka the 100 ft long slip and slide). Things on the slip-and-slide went from funny, to funnier, to down-right dangerous, and Holy shit – how did you not break your fucking neck? In the span of 5 minutes. I know this is going to shock you, but Cause For Blindness got naked and slip/slided nekkid as a jaybird. Just Jamie took the road less traveled– protecting herself from Mersa virus by putting on several layers of clothing before doing her well-choreographed prep -and-landing routine.

Circle Time arrived – and Foot took shit in its own direction (as usual). I really can’t say much about circle other than “When one Grandmaster Drinks……All shaved vaginas drink!”. A rousing “Swing Low” and we were on to our succor (BBQ) By then, the sun was setting, the bowels were loosening, and a general malaise was kicking in. Time for Togas (and MORE HAMMS). The interpretation of the Toga is generally left up to the wearer. I mean – none of us (other than Everyday) was alive during the Roman Empire, amiright? Still --- some wins, some fails, some epic fails. On the winning side – In-U-End-O looked like a Fembot from GoldFinger, Casting Couch had a hasherific swath of cotton, and Flamer was decidedly festive in his yellow ensemble (pronounced En-San-BLEY!). On the other side of the coin, I had the tie-dye sheet that kept coming loose, Just Jamie had a combo Toga/Burkah thing going, and Just Jordyn was in a fitted sheet, which was all sortsa fucked up. But a true Roman Bacchanal wouldn’t have happened, had not Julius ‘Shrinkage’ Caesar (love your salad!) made an appearance. The crowd was treated to Julius Shrinkage and one of his vestal virgins – Hog Rider – being carried onto the scene on a litter by 4 slaveboys. After a quick loop of the festival area, Shrinky alit from his throne, and the entire kit was sacrificed to Vulcan, the Roman God of Fire. And truly – you haven’t lived until you see a 4’ x 8’ plank covered with astroturf, supporting two aluminum beach chairs burst into flame. If you inhale the fumes, you might not live much longer either!

 Bubba got cranked up, the sun went down, the bonfire rose higher, and the hash really kicked into gear. At some point in the evening, Foot grabbed the mic (was there ever any doubt) and named Just Kylie ‘A GREAT Way To Die’….a naming we can all agree upon. Kylie had been bemoaning the fact that she’d been hashing for 4 years but hadn’t yet been named earlier in the day by professing: “I just don’t cum enough to get named.” Ladies and Gentlemen, that sounds like a challenge, and I’d like to volunteer to be a founding member of the Hash Subcommittee on Just Kylie’s Orgasm Management (Just K.O.M.!).

Okay so this is when shit got fucked up. Around 11:30, Tour announced the ‘Nekkid Midnight Run’ and we started assembling the Nekkid folk over by the goat barn. As one of the mismanagement, and the one chosen to lay the trail for the Nekkid Run, I had prepared all my best goat fucking jokes for chalk talk. Soon I was joined by eager hashers, and I went into my spiel, only to be interrupted by Cause For Blindness, who came running across the field, beer in hand, tripping, falling and sliding about 6 feet into a pile of glowsticks. We weren’t sure if it was part of the act, until we rolled Cause over and saw that she had-indeed-fallen, and her fall was broken by the steel rimmed drinking vessel she was carrying. In the interest of public safety, I turned on my flashlight to assess the damage only to greeted by the site of a naked bloody Cause and about 10 swinging hairy dicks. On the plus side, I confirmed that (despite the haircut) I’m totally not into dick. I was looking to our hash medical team for assistance (heck, we’ve got most body parts covered – foot, joints, eyes) but they all kind of ‘Noped’ their way away from the scene after quickly weighing the word ‘malpractice’ vs ‘intoxication’. Fudgie did his best and helped get Cause up on her feet and like a fucking super hero, Just Tim appeared behind me to say “I’m an EMT and I have a crash kit in my car…should I get it?” At that point, despite the not gay thing I said earlier – I would have blown the guy if he asked! He’s my damn hero!!! We got Cause assembled, found her clothes, and Tim got her wrapped up in gauze and told me that she needed to get to a hospital for stitches. Gotta give it to Cause, that must have hurt like hell, and most people would be crying for their mommy, but Cause took it like a fuckin’ trooper. We wrangled her into the car, and let the folks at the ER take care of her. Now – I have no idea what happened at the party between midnight and 5 AM, but I know that I woke a few people up when we got back and lay Cause down on Egg Fucker’s Hippy Pillow Paradise. I retreated to my tent and dreamed of loud fucking goats and chickens making all sorts of fucking noise….or at least I *think* it was a dream. 


I Promise I’ll Respect You In The Morning! (What’s your name again?) Morning breakfast (Coffee, Mimosas, Bloody Marys, and Bagels) provided by the always generous Horn O Plenty & Bad Semen helped sling some life back into the pack. After a quick prayer service led by the Most Reverend Moon (I have no idea I’m making this part up) our Mismanagement put on another trail, and then Little Man in a Boat came out with the pump action shotgun and made it clear that it was time for everyone to get the fuck out. And so ends the reign of Foot Fairy – the 19th Grandmaster of the Reading Hash House Harriers. He only reigned for 16 months, but damn did this hash go places under his leadership. Thanks you fucking drunk, you really made a difference and hopefully your wife will forgive you someday. Thanks as well to all the hashers who traveled from near and far to make this a great event, and finally thanks to the team who put this shit together: NFB -- shower maker & hare; Crack –Beer Guru, hare, and swag procurement; Swampy – catering and mugs; Hot Lips – Organizer Extraordinaire; Opto – Queen of the Potties; Toh-Foo – FatBoy & Bus Wrangler, Fudgie – King O Haberdashery, Bad Semen & Horn – Snacks, Breakfast, Shot Check, Polka Music, Camp Staff. …and a cast of thousands. You all make Reading HHH Great Again, and the old fucks (and the getting old fucks like me) think you’re all just really swell. ON-ON Decoy
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Hash Trash 946 - The Pleasure Hash
The Hills Were Alive with the Sound of Hashers
Hare Today Cum Tomorrow, our bi-hashual buddy (remember the old saying, “A friend is a friend. A pal is a pal, but a buddy is someone you sleep with?") and his Mystery Hare, AC/DC, laid a live trail that traversed the hills of Bernville. Prior to circling up, roughly 35 of us packed into the Van Reed Inn, and met with ornery resistance from the barmaid who was less than pleased to see our band of hooligans bellying up to the bar two and three deep. Never the less, we managed to down a few before heading out for circle. It was at this time the Mystery Hare partially revealed himself. Not what you are thinking… A la The Unknown Comic from the 70’s era, AC/DC wearing a paper bag over his head came out as the chosen one to help Hare Today give us pleasure. Introductions were interesting. We had an out-of-towner from Guam who brought a Frenchman that was basically a lying sack of shit because he would not own his obvious virginity, but whatever. Foot roasted him a bit and we took pleasure in watching the young man stammer and squirm through the inquisition. After we went through the rest of the introductions, Hare Today and MH/AC/DC provided instructions and were off. As the group was waiting the obligatory 10 minutes, we spied the hares climbing a hill just across 183. Seven minutes rolled by and the hash rolled out to catch the hares. The hill was quite reminiscent of the Rogers and Hammerstein classic, The Sound of Music. We hashers threw our arms out as the wind swept through our hair, singing merrily. It was a great photo op for In-U-End-Oh!
On up and into the woods, the markings were few, but we managed to find our way through the trees, through a housing development, then back into the woods to our first beer stop. Thankfully so; 35 parched hashers desperately needed libation. That was the first pleasure we had. On up, on down, on up and down we ran finding another beer stop and what just might be the best effing shot stop ever! Everyone seemed to enjoy the samplings of the many, many miniature bottles of booze. Very Pleasurable Hares! Over the creek and through the woods, to the HHH we went.
The usual culprits; our Hares, FRB, DFL, out-of-towners, car hashers, and non-returners were called in to down their beers. Foot made it a point to bring Finger Fucker in to show off his meaty fingers and offer his pleasuring services to any interested parties. Just Jamie reacted quite enthusiastically. Whether Finger Fucker gave Just Jamie the pleasure she desired is unknown. The highlight of the circle was the official Naming of Dick Nest. Yes, Just Dara is now and ever shall be known as Dick Nest, a name befitting such an empowered young woman! We love you Dick Nest!
Foot reminded us about the upcoming Red Dress Hash, the Misspelling Bee RH3 Social, and his 50th Hash Camp Out. We swung low then headed into the Van Reed Inn for a Pleasurable apres with our RH3 Family. The jury is still out on whether Hare Today found pleasure at his Pleasure Hash, but what we do know for sure is that THE Reading Hash House Harriers had a Hell of a lot of fun!

Submitted with Love,
Wants It Bad

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Hash trash hash #945 – I knew within the first 50 yards we were in trouble when it appeared that the hares did in fact lie, imagine that ,trespassing. As the silt squished below our feet, and we made our way into the thick of things, I couldn’t help but wonder if a ROUS was going to leap out in front of us (for those lame asses who have never seen the Princess Bride, that stands for rodents of unusual sizes). Little did we know that was nothing to what lay ahead - On we continued until we came upon a check, swim across or run up? Of course, the hares lied when they said there were to be no water crossings. AC/DC, Sascrotch and Grower knew better then to fall for that line of shit – ambitiously jumped in and made it safely to the other side while Old News and virgin Julie made it partially across before hearing true trail and turned around and joined the rest of the pack that took the easy way out or so we thought and clawed their way up the underpasses embankment. And here began the truth the hares did tell….”You will need to run really fast to escape possible death,” was uttered during the circle up. If you think it’s bad watching someone texting while driving while you’re driving, I can tell you it’s much worse when you are running across an overpass on 422 and see it happen. “Run faster, holy shit, get behind the guard rail and we’re fucking crazy” were just a few of the utterances heard from the pack who thought it was better to die this way than from river aids. At some point, we did come across a BN thankfully, I can tell you this was by far the most dangerous shitty trail I have ever ran. A mile hike up a rock infested trail to a cellular tower, 5 river crossings that had currents that almost swept away Casting Couch, Old News making 10$ to dunk the virgin, thanks for that Cougar, an incredible job of photography work by Inuendo, still shocked hash flashes phone made it through this mostly wet trail unscathed, shiggy, muck and ticks made for a hash to remember. This is Old News reporting - On Out!

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Hash Trash 944 by "The Mystery Hare"?
So many questions with this hash... was it 944, 945, or 946? And who the hell was the hare? Foot? Crack? NFB? Girlie? Turtle? Delicious and 2ITP? The possibilities are endless!
Fuck?!

The first Monday hash of year... run by 30 or so halfminds (no virgins), wandering aimlessly about Mount Penn with nothing but some clues and a handful of arrows (really not that different than a lot of you wandering around aimlessly when there's real marks and arrows).
What a mysterious hash! It appeared that everyone enjoyed themselves as I was right along with you, watching you find my cleverly placed hints in all of the nooks and crannies that Mount Penn has to offer. I hope I can lead all of you misfits on another shitty trail again soon, but everyone must promise to do better down down downs after the hash songs in circle, because you all sucked a fat one at doing that. Also, Dusty at Canal Street says he loves you all... but not really.
On On Bitches!

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Hash Trash #940 by Just Missy...

What a bitch'n trail this loving hash turned out to be. Seriously, you couldn't ask for better weather! Our frigid sodden band began chasing two bearded men and one bouncing booty....where did they go? Over the tracks, through the woods, and let's not forget the cemetery, to what beheld us, but a False! With much searching and circling the trail was finally found. Off we ran again....puddles, mud, snow, following blue and red dots to a pack of fighting Alpacas. Let's face it, you just never know what will be found on trail... like was that really a back track Crack, or can we just not count? No worries I guess, because we all know Foot can't spell, so what if we can't count.... Picking up the scent of the bearded duo, off we ran, and ran, with that fisty and horny virgin bitching the ENTIRE way, 'are we done yet?' Though I think we all would have agreed how long must we have run to the last beer check?! It was the road to no where, literary no where with a 14 point back check, to those that we left behind were now at the beginning! Again, on and on we ran to at last what did we hear, but beer cans a popping! What a wonderful sound it was to all us parched thirsty folk. But alas, we still needed to trog on down that rough and rocky rail to the final climb to not warm, but yea, a little bit of shelter with more beer and a shit load if pretzels. The adventure doesn't end there, because we were to be educated that it is possible for a three-some to fail, as we were told....the party was to continue, back to the beginning for yet another back check to the Railroad House where many brew ha-has were consumed, and the awaited naming commenced.... drum roll please.... Our newly named of Cougar Bait, which I'm sure was was delightfully received and justly fitting, and next, onto that heart shaped ass that Foot always wants backed into his circle, Pooperlicious! Until next week, party on-on!!!
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Hash Trash #939 Prepared by Ol' young Timer Birth Control Device!

Four Score and seven years ago I hashed….and then again, and again and again…then after a short stint to fornicate I decided to show up at the Groundhog Day hash. In life the only decisions you regret are the ones you never took…well I’m going to stand corrected on this, that I regret cumming to this debacle. A shit load of wankers…65ish circled up in what looked like a third world country, but it was really that playground you never knew how to get to just below the Reading viaduct….Pendora that is. The circle was bigly this day and there were hashers from RH3, H5, Hockessin, LVH3 and many other fucked up places that know one cares about. The circle was peppered by a Hot Axx, Tidy Bowl, a bag of Bones, Im A Grower, Goes Down on the Rebound(I missed out), one Big Scroat, a Decoy, Vera Wangless, Fudge Packer, Inuendo a band named AC DC, an Optopussy, a Turtle Head and ??Who the FUCK is Dave?? to name a few , a virgin that will regret her participation and our fucked up GM Foot Fairy. Foot Fairy and Horn of Plenty hared the groundhog day hash. Foot Fairy and Horn of Plenty hared the groundhog day hash. Foot Fairy and Horn of Plenty hared the groundhog day hash, with 50 yards of live assistance and a near death experience form a Bad dose of Semen…they told us to run up the hill. Then, like Trump in his new term; 65 plus assholes were loaded up like refugees from “one of the seven banned countries” and thrown in the back of a Rental Truck to go where who the hell knows. Thanks for the seatbelts asshole Safety First! There’s no sun …and no shadow to look for so why are we even out here? To confirm that winter drinking and debauchery will continue for the rest of our lives? Horn of Plenty ( ) thought it would be funny to bring a hill workout to the drinking party. Although it was nice they provided some orange cheese balls to tickle the throat it didn’t outweigh the BS of climbing some of the wonderful yuge rocky hills of Mt Penn. Over and over again! As we sang and drank our merry asses off in the back of box truck with no direction home we un-boarded the truck on top of a mountain meant for ditching bodies and hiding from the law. (“Where do you live driver, I am going to cummm there and shit in your mouth!!” JJ) We found some falsies, a shot check on top of a big fuckin hill…why the fuck did you run up that hill assholes. A shot check at the bottom of a hill, beer near at some random rental truck and a boob check that I was too late to witness after the pack waited for the viewing. At one point I heard one of the wankers say that people pay $50 dollars for events like this…too bad this bullshit was $5 and included alcohol and a refugee like truck ride packed with something that smelled like a cross between Bad Semen and a Tidy Bowl hanging under a Big Scroat. My beer got crushed by some fucker standing in front of me in the truck during liftoff he’ll be punished for beer crusher. If I see one more hog with a fucking note I’m calling n uber! Good thing the hash swag was reflective because it seemed like we were going to be out here all night…. this hash was longer than the man from Nantucket. Finally the DFLs finshed up around dinner time, and the circle happened with allegations galore, down downs of some shitty beer, Texas Gold that was some kind of Schwan’s Goebel type of crap. Foot Fairy had his way with Breast Stro”a”ker and his Daughter…ALL OVER HER FACE! Have you all really partaked in this hog ass fucking for three years???? Good thing Birth Control Device showed up this year because there wasn’t any semen left behind. Till next time we drink…BCD

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Hash Trash 938
Hash #938 began on a balmy 23 degree afternoon at a snow/ice-covered parking lot in the almost non-existent town of Reamstown. The fastest circle up EVER consisted of a warp speed introduction of 30 plus half-wits. To my own personal delight, some of my all time favorite hashers showed their ugly mugs – in no particular order: Deathwish, Quarterstick, Dick-on-a-stick, and my beloved, Every Day Asshole. 30 seconds later, we were off over a bridge and through some snow. In another 30 seconds a small incline presented itself. Some muttered, “It’s a hill – stop running.” A mile later, still going up, up, up, there was no choice, but to run for fear of frostbite to the balls (at least that’s what I think Caucha Fuckin muttered as he ran by me). Fortunately, gravity does rule the universe, and we eventually found ourselves running down, down, down to our first and only beer near. A quick stop, and we were off again (uphill) only to realize we were back at the top of the hill we originally climbed. Horn a Plenty claims she originally thought about running down this hill, we just ran up, which would have led her directly to the beer near and avoid all the uphill running, but…well…it would have just been too damn easy. Anyhow, it turned into a full throttle downhill sprint to the HHH in a beautiful single file line because the Lancaster Countian Sunday drivers stared in confusion whether to stop or share the road. The on-in was just as fast as the circle up. A warp speed rendition of Sweet Chariot was sung, and we were off to the on-after at Cocalico Tavern. This hole in the wall watering hole hit the jack pot when the 30ish half wits came piling in. The sole barmaid scurried quickly to find 30ish clean beer vessels while calling for backup. Soon four young barmaids were serving drinks and grub faster than they ever moved before. As this was going on, my lil eye spied what appeared to be a Reamstown local. You might imagine this to be a person who resembled something of a country bumpkin. But if you guessed a young ruffian with a ratty purple Mohawk mullet ponytail with rotted teeth who was eyeing hashers with a look of suspicion and contemplation, you are correct. Being one to help underdogs, I quickly approached and offered a simple fool’s dissertation of hashing as well as an offer to play a game of pool, which was really all “Jacob” wanted to do. Meanwhile, in the other corner of the bar, a new naming was being mused about. There were quite a few appropriate names thrown about, but Nice Axx prevailed and our beloved Just Jess will be now and forever known as such. Until Ground Hog’s Day, this is Just Lays There bringing you hash trash. May the hash go in peace.
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RH3 #...933... 8675309. 3 chicks, Cheap and easy! 12/4/2016. Across the street from the D.O.T.
Sindarella started trail at 9 AM and plowed straight through drinking until dark.
…What? You want more? Alright… let’s see…I missed the LVH3 (ish) RUnhash due to washing machine error. But was able to salvage the the day by making the 2 PM RH3 trail! YAY!
Three hares today. The trifuckta of Optopussy, Sindarella and Just Katie. And only $1 hash cash. The quality of beer reflected that. Luckily I am Beer Slob H3. #beerslob3!!!
I don’t know about you, but cheap women always end up costing me a lot of money. So I was skeptical. But I am also a dumb male and walk headlong into these sorts of traps.
Circle began promptly behind Opto’s place of business where she broke out some cardboard. I got excited about the possibility of a breakdancing exhibition. What we got instead was a miserable failure at trying not to desecrate the parking lot with chalk talk. Intros were done without incident and pack was out.
There was about a half mile of residential shiggy Before we found the newly implemented TP check.
Two days prior, Decotuoys Interuptus offered the girls his house as a stop on trail. The hares, already having trail planned, also happen to be quite sadistic bitches and decided to add it as an impromptu shot and TP check. It was like some goddamn Chinese festival with drunk half minds throwing streamers of TP all over the place. When Decoy returns home this will elicit nightmares for quite a while. And it’s not even Halloween. As condolence I can only quote from one of the great cinematic gems of our time: “Decoy, you can’t spent your whole life worrying about your mistakes. You fucked up, you trusted us!”
Off we went again! Suddenly there was Dancing Fool! With a new… beat the fuck up vehicle. Before I knew it he was with us. Garbage bag in tow. Like some Bizarro world Santa.
We suddenly ran out of road and were in a patch of woods. It looked like a dumping ground for homeless and party kids. I saw Dancing Fool’s eyes light up and he dove into a mountain of bottles and cans. I had no choice but to write him off as lost.
I was quickly eliminated in the dodgeball game that followed and ACDC got a case of blueballs so bad I thought he was gonna explode.
Now I might be mixing some things up here as I refuse to write this sober. But at some point we were on the lost road to OZ. All overgrown and canopied with deadfall. The yellow bricks plundered years before. Taking us through a series of tunnels that dumped us out behind the Liberty Ale House. Of course we were not stopping there. Across Lancaster Ave. went the hash and down some more neighborhood nonsense to The Brickhouse Pub. Nope again. These girls are all tease.
We were instead led past the apartments to a BN behind the Farmers market. We were so close to start you could taste it. But that is not how you do trail. No Fucking Brains broke away long before and was probably following the pre laid trail AFTER the BN. And that’s not how you do trail either.
Opto forgot something earlier and schooled us on a revised chalk talk. Some sort of “tough/easy” thing was ahead. Whatevs.
Before long it was discovered. Bones and I agreed life was good, met up with the turkeys and got lost around the school. What the hell…
Trail was eventually found behind the school and broke off onto a wooded trail that passed the Shillington pool. Before I knew it we were in someones backyard for a BN.
I was thanked for leaving pack arrows at the checks for the slower hashers. Because we do that sort of thing where I come from. We have manners and shit. And holy crap! How is Sindarella still walking!?!
Back into the woods! Downhill! Then Uphill! BIG hill! My favorite! And then back downhill. It was like a roller coaster ride. If you’re a masochist.
What followed was basically a deathmarch to the HHH at Opto’s house.
Foot Fairy was offered the choice of doing a cramped circle in the basement where we could act up or a “Quick and quiet” one outside with some cleaned up language. She should know better.
We sang all the naughty songs loudly, Foot lost all control of circle, the dog peed on the beer (not a fan of Modelo I guess. Fuckin’ beer snobs). Even the neighbor fired up his leaf blower as Foot droned on. Then Opto yelled “FUCK the neighbors!” Then the leaf blower stopped. Then Foot started talking again. And the leaf blower came back on.
We had new shoes drank out of. No one was buying Just Lays There’s story about having some plantersomethingorother. Even some old ones. WTF, Fudgie? I think it had something to do with an accusation from the lone virgin.
And how the fuck is Sindarella still upright?!
Just Katie was pulled into circle and named. Not Queef Dumpster like everyone was pulling for but Rather HOT FOR TEACHER! Happy hash name fuck you! (now THAT song will be stuck in my head all day. Probably both of them).
After greatly bringing down the property value it was time to swing low and run back to start. And thank Gispert! It was getting cold.

XOXO!
Sex-A-Sketch!
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RH3 #931 Beer Heroes, part Deux
Hares: Casting Couch,Delicious Head, TwoInThePink and Crack

On a blustery cold day, perfect hashing weather, in good spirit twenty odd half-minded wankers circled up. For the lack of virgins, the hares gave a fuckin brief explanations of the marks to be found. Even with the remarkable hasty circle, Casting Couch could barely contain her excitement at having her hashing hyman plucked.

After getting a general erection the kennel was off… only to find the 1st drunken wanker to get “blown” down on all fours. Keeping with the “quickie” theme set at circle, trail was easily found, lost, and found again by the spread wide half-minds. Much rejoicing was had by all the drunken wankers when the 1st “BN” was quickly found. But confusion was had by many, what mark was really on the step. Was it a smiley face for our GM or boob check? Well it could not possibly be a boob check, the hares never explained to the half-minds the possibility of a boob check. Since we are a simple minded, we walked right by the mark to the beer. When AC/DC the last half-mind to cum upon the questionable mark, he tried his luck at getting to see some boobs. He quickly realized it was better idea to show his hairy man boobs.

Several half-minds became overly excited with the hairy site, so they quickly downed their beers and found trail. The drunken wankers were off following the small white marks.The yelling of “ON-ON” was music to everyone’s ears until someone yelled false turn around. While back tracking, a second false was found and none of the half-minds know how they went right by it. Of course, the drunken wankers didn't waste any time and quickly found more flour to follow. In a blink of a drunken eye “SN” was spotted which made all very pleased with the hares. The pack was overly excited about how quickly the “BN”and “SN” were appearing.


The drunken wankers could barely contain themselves when they realized they were about to mount the enormous slope. One wanker was so excited he exploded his load and went down. But RickyDobby the hash elf was so wound up he found the perfect parachute for protection in the field of hidden treasures. At the peak of the mound, he quickly discarded his very used safety parachute for a nice cold beer. After a hasty “BN”, the drunken wankers had one last quickie going down a wet slippery wood to find the hares. Good times were had by all during a very smoky circle.


On-On,
Suckie Sucker



Bonfire Hash
Hash # 930
Hares: Tidy Bowl, Fudge Packer, Little Man In The Boat
Rubbing two sticks together on a balmy Saturday afternoon sounded like a swell idea, as long as one of them was match. Flashbacks of boy scouts setting up a campfire, singing songs, making smores and eating brownies (got kicked out of boy scouts for that….but I digress) Rubbing three hares together however, was not such a wonderful experience, nor a match for a large gathering of sheep / lemmings / hashers.
Our hares went to no extra expense where our comfort was concerned. It was apparent from the start that our BAL’s were going to exceed our collective IQ’s. A long false greeted the group as they scurried across a corn field. (stupid sheep)
Back they tracked seeking small marks through the wooded wonderland. This section I was told was pretty and scenic. I was shortcutting with confidence and found myself back at the start for a beer check. (f-n lemmings) Same shitty beer we started with…..yum.
Hey, did someone say HAY. Yup, and off we walked to fill the hay wagon for a tour of the unknown. Well, almost all of us. Flamer had ideas of his own and spent the next three hours having his own hash, running where the trail should have gone. Speaking of gone, just Jamie wandered off somewhere between the beer check and the straight line walk to the wagon. Guess ya can’t fall off the wagon if you never get on.
Off we went, rumbling down the road with AC/DC do his best impression of a lousy lounge singer, and itchy hay creeping its way into all those sensitive spots. Downhill, uh oh! But wait…..more liquid libation….hot alcohol infused cider…..yummy. Wait, we have to get out of the wagon. Silly hashers, “yes you must exit the vehicle”. “You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here”.
So off the pack went, headed directly into the heart of the town with broken streets, railroad tracks, cemeteries and bars. (The Grand central Taproom was not a beer check or apre sight. I know this for a fact because I ran there three times) the hares utilized many of the aforementioned scenic pathways as they “sort of” guided the pack around Fleetwood. A true highlight of the day’s trail was the lemming line up and over a very large pile of dirt to a beer check that was clearly visible from afar. And yes, I was the key instigator. (f-n sheep)
A grand tour of the town eventually lead a weary and thirsty group to the former Fleetwood Grill, now poising as Klinger’s of Fleetwood. Beers for everyone and one beer it was. On-on! Wait, where’s the wagon? We get a ride back up the hill, right? NOT!!!!!! So up it was. Back up the hill that we so enjoyed riding down.
Here’s where some of the unacceptable type A behaviors began to surface. Dobie’s off-spring challenged for the “win”. Crack sprints up the hill, chasing a car like it was full of horny naked nymphomaniacs. He blew his load prematurely on the hill. Flesh Wound passed up the beer check to compete with young and stupid who eventually sprinted past yours truly to cross the HHH first and “win” the hash. Bitching, pissing and moaning could be heard for miles as the long thin line of lemming ascended T-729…..also known as Fucking Lake Road.
The pack finally found refuge back where this long and inebriated process began. Circle shenanigans commenced….blah-blah-blah.
The hares ordered pizza.
An often recounted story holds that on 11 June 1889, to honor the Queen consort of Italy, Margherita of Savoy, the Neapolitan pizzamaker Raffaele Esposito created the "Pizza Margherita", a pizza garnished with tomatoes, mozzarella, and basil, to represent the national colors of Italy as on the Italian flag.
I share this with you because it took so long to get the pizza, I figure they imported it form the source.
I believe a good time was had by all, and most stayed for the bonfire and related festivities well into the evening.
A truly shitty hash.
NFB

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RH3 # 928 The Hallow Weenie Hash!
Hares: Cums on Demand and Mr. Bluster aka Just Isaac aka Head Peddler
Twas a steamy, sultry July afternoon, or rather October. The hashers wandered across the parking lot from the pre-lube looking a bit like an elementary school Halloween parade. Except for AC/DC, who was sporting an ammunition-filled bandolier as part of his Bad Hombre costume, complete with sombrero and mustache. And who is strictly banned from contact with elementary children.
Circle was held in a very public parking lot, against the better judgment of Just Isaac, aka Mr Bluster, given Foot Fairy’s propensity for cursing. Foot Fairy took this in stride and made sure to oralize his frequent cursing away from the public.
We were graced with the presence of one virgin, brought to us by an out-of-towner no less (if you can call Hares Today Comes Tomorrow an out of towner, as he cums more than most of RH3). After the hares described the marks we would find on course, all the virgin remembered were the marks related to beer, shots, and weiners. A+.
The colorful pack scampered off across 724 as trail meandered through several neighborhoods, drawing many stares from residents. Due to Any Crack’ll Do’s successful beard graying efforts, the hashers found themselves seeing double throughout the day as the race was on to see if NFB or NFB would be FRB.
The first beer check found us in a back alley of a vacant house, where the beer was cold and Cums on Demand’s schoolgirl outfit was hot. Despite this perfect combination, the hashers were off in a hurry, probably assuming that Just Isaac was responsible for most of the trail, and they would therefore be out wandering about for many more hours.
We then proceeded straight uphill to the stairs from hell, which left the pack breathing heavy and a bit moist. While those symptoms are usually the start of something good, unfortunately in this case we ended up at Premature Ejaculation. The shot stop at his house offered what looked like Windex, but tasted quite delicious.
Again, the pack was off through more roads, more houses, and passing more intrigued non-hashers… especially as the costumes started to be removed, sweated off, or falling apart. On to yet another backyard oasis with beer and jello shots.
After a brief stint along the railroad tracks, a quick left turn into an industrial parking lot took us to the HHH, where our hares were gathered with more cold beverages, orange crunchy things, and tales from the trail.
We waited for a long time for Hares Today Cums Tomorrow, who seemed to be lost. Turns out he was in the bar most of that time. Foot Fairy started circle by renaming Mr. Bluster, recently deemed Just Isaac, to his new slightly more acceptable “Head Peddler”. The hashers hoped that Foot Fairy and Shrinkage, in their religious garb, would cleanse them of all their sins and demons, but apparently they deemed the pack a lost cause. Many down-downs for bald heads, big boobs, and birthdays were followed by a special treat watching Praying Man Tits drink out of his shiny new Hoka sneaker. The chariots were swung, and the pack dispersed to the hares’ home for an apres where we watched torrential rains cleanse the earth yet again.
On-On
Legal Easy and Just Tom

Hash Trash # 927.... a Shrinkage origional rendition!
A bunch of wankers, some almost drunk after pre-lube at the Paradise by the Slice, gathered this focking windy afternoon of October the 23rd in the parking lot at Wernersville State Hospital to get ready for another glorious shitty hash. The little guy who already became man a year ago put together this shitty live trail that elevated him to the rank positon of Awesome Crack. Everybody knows Crack is a fucking professional on beer selection, runs like a greyhound in heat and blows the bugle with passion to give a good direction to all lost and disoriented wankers.
We started with the circle and although was only one new virgin, Foot Ferry took possession of her and against the tradition “we do not give a shit if they get lost first time” he protected the virgin and promised we won’t lose her. Where did the virgin cum from anyway? Does it matter? What matters is we haven’t lost her. To cheer up the atmosphere and put a smile on Mr. Bluster’s face, Foot Ferry temporally renamed him Just Izsak. Now ready for ON-ON. Crack starts his live trail and we count down the seven minutes we gave him to get lost. Soon we get in the woods and start bush whacking without Bush Whacker. Crack kept his promise “No roads, Great live trail, THE FINEST BEER” and a top notch spread of food in his father’s awesome retreat.
Good times and thanks to all who joined us on another great shitty trail and for hanging with us for so long after in Crank’s sanctuary. Thank you to all our guests and everyone for making it a great day.
ONON Shrinkage.....When one Romanian Drinks!

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Hash Trash # 926 By Sascrotch!
To say I was excited to get back out hashing, would be an understatement. After a 3 month hiatus, I decided it was time I pulled out my shiggy socks and head up to my home kennel RH3. I was greeted by many familiar faces as I pulled into the parking lot. Apparently some people missed ol' sascrotch. The welcoming was enough to make this big old fur ball start to cry(water his beard). But enough with that sentimental shit, let's get back to the hash trash. So we started this evening's "hash" on Penn avenue by the little Caesar's. Over 40 halfminds showed up to the great RH3 hash including several out of towners. Thanks and fuck you to all those lvh3 and h5 hashers who made it out to the event. Our fearless GM Foot Fairy wanted to make the circle short so we would not get in trouble with Johnny Law. So a quick round of introductions and we were off.
As I started my dash towards the first sign of trail I was excited at the anticipation of where trail would lead us. I know that shocktober fest is in the area and figured we would be going through that at some point. I also knew that there were train tracks near by so I knew we would make it to them before this hash ended. I mean what well respected hash doesn't have some train tracks involved? Right?
On one, on two, on on, and the trail had started. We continued down 422 then turned left and were running down the side street. Fingers crossed our first beer stop was going to be at railroad house. No such luck, but alas, up ahead is shocktober fest, perhaps this will be where we are going. A check in front of shocktober fest left the kennel very confused as to which group of hashers were on trail and which group followed a no-no to the check. Turns out everybody was on trail but no body knew it was a turkey eagle. Nice job hares!! After a rigorous search trail was found once again on 422. Run run run straight as an arrow past the sheetz to the first beer check. Some of our female hashers went to "relieve" themselves behind the building at our beer check while Head Safety Officer of Reading Hash House Harriers, ACDC checked to make sure all the beauties were safe. Thank you ACDC for putting your life on the line every damn day. We can never thank you enough for your "sacrifices". No social event here, because as the last few drops were consumed we were already back out to find trail. We ran straight down 422. Then kept running straight. Jesus H Christ we ran straight. There was so much road running that I figured I got my days mixed up and was at a pacers run and that the hash was on Wednesday. Bitch, bitch fuck you and we were at our next beer check. I must have arrived late to the party because I was only at the check for 30 seconds before we were off again ("there are no real hashers in a marathon" started to play in my head). Some more straight running before we arrived at a check that took us on trail up a hill. On-up until we turned left and ran down to the HHH. Circle was done, announcements were announced, accusations were accused, and beer was drank. The piling of hashers into cars to return them to their vehicles commenced. Apres was held at paradise by the slice. All in all a shitty hash with no shiggy. However, a good group of halfwits makes anything fun. I feel as though crack will make up for the shiggy this Sunday.
On-on Sascrotch
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Hash Trash for Short Straw #925
A couple dozen wanks showed up to the new Clubhouse South for the Short Straw Hash #925.
After a quick pre-lube & circling, a short straw was pulled.

Bones was lucky enough to pick the short straw first and Little Big Dick was co-hare. They were off with a bag of straws, white powder & some cash. Also, there was very similar items in the back pack that was provided to them!

Bones & LBD layed their trail westward to the first "beer-near" where we sucked down some of the best brews Milwaukee has to offer. It even says so on the can to it's true!

Then it was time for the second short straw pick which was grabbed by Just Matt. Just Matt and his co-hare, Fudge Packer, quickly led us to the next "beer- near".. which offered more of Milwaukee's finest.

As the sun set and the temperature dropped, we continued to pick another short straw. Any Crack'll Do was selected along with his co-hare Delicious Head. With headlamps glowing & bladders flowing, and a quick match of
Marco Polo with the neighborhood kids, we followed trail to the third "beer-near" at the Brickhouse Pub.

Here at the Brickhouse is when Foot Fairy called out Sin'Derella & Little Man In A Boat for short cutting and assigned them to the final short straw. A very short trail led us back to Clubhouse South for circle and apres.

The circle was dark and cold, but there was enough time for a naming. Just Jules is now & forever known as Casting Couch.

The story behind naming Casting Couch was longer then the trail from the first "beer-near" to the second!

Wings were inhaled.. delicious crafts were on draft.. and a real good time was had by all!

The #925 hash was the half way mark under Foot Fairy's reign. If the second half is anything like the the first, we are all in for a real shitty good time!

Love you guys,
Bones
-Hash Trash #924 From Hare to Eternity
It was a gloomy day in the Hamburg outer limits (as it would be for any other hash hared by RH3's beloved ToeFU, the bringer of rain, ice, and snow). About 25 or so half wits showed up at Jake's place hoping to find flour... and we mean actually find flour considering ToeFU's last trail was pretty much not existent. The kennel circled, Foot announced, and ToeFU and Suck's It In were asked to coach the rowdy knuckleheads on how to follow trail. After the marks were explained,Just Jim Borden was introduced, and directions were given on how to dispose of condom contents, trail began. Flour led us through the woods, shitty smelling swamps, and cornfields to our first beer stop followed by more trails, woods, high school soccer games, and even denser woods (I wouldn't be surprised if Two in the Pink turns into a walking, festering poison ivy exhibit like he did after the DeathWish Hash). After a refreshing stream crossing and some shots of blackberry bird dog at the Shollenberger family stone we continued trail into the vast metropolis of Hamburg. After pounding a bit of pavement we encountered a foot bridged leading over the mighty Schuylkill River, more pavement, and eventually the sacred HHH nestled under yet another cozy bridge where pizza and drinks were had, songs were sung, and accusations were made. Just Jim Borden never made me it to circle, but our fearless GM did, and there was much rejoicing. After some shuttling of the bunch of stinky wet hashers back to the luxurious Jake's Place, more celebrations ensued accompanied by the aromas of the crab cake special. Another shitty showing by The Reading Hash House Harriers.
ON ON,
Crack-----
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Hash Trash #923 The AnalBday! Thanks Just Katie...
The hashers arrived on Thursday at 6:15 in the heart of Wyomissing after a pre lube at West Reading Tavern. Hash cash was waived off (sweet deal!) and circle began. The "oval" took form in the median of Reading Ave to be enjoyed by all passersby and they even got to experience the welcoming waves and lame comments from AC/DC and Two in the Pink. Introductions were made, marks were explained and Delicious Head rattled off all 17 of the former GM's. It wasn't as quick as she led us to believe making our "quick" circle not so quick. Finally the antics ended and off we were to find trail. Lots of flour and lots of payment led us through Wyomissing. No shiggy, no beer, no shots, no skin, but we did get a big fat F in the middle of the park. What to do? Go back to your last check, Duh! But, wait! There weren't any checks! Bastard hares! After some groups short-cutted it back to the start and other groups stood around trying to figure out what to do, Egg Fucker, Camel Toe, and Bones decided to get stung by a swarm of bees pissed off by the FRBs (we later found out that Bones' foot would swell up to the size of an elephant penis). Anyway, back to the start to find more flour and directions to the bike path in the forest. Shitty beer for everyone in circle and a badass birthday cake piñata to celebrate the analversary. Everyday Asshole broke it open like a boss and there was a frenzy as hashers rushed in for booze, condoms, tootsie rolls, candy, toys, huskerdoos and huskerdont's....needless to say, it was a shitshow. Back to the cars and then time for the apres at Chatty Monks! Overall, Shitty trail from NFB and Dances. SHOCKER! 🖕
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HASH TRASH 922 THE FAMILY HASH!
We are family…and dogs…and pokey dolls?
See!! We can be PG…13. Our first Family Hash since before Justin Bieber was born. 70+ hashers and future hashers gathered at Egleman’s Park. No balls at this park. Circled up for a very tame and kiddie approved circle. Just Charles…he knew all the answers. The twins (same dad, different moms) were too shy until after the hash…that’s when they put the WWE Smackdown on AC/DC. Back to that later.
Mismanagement laid the trail. Off we went! An abundance of flour to lead the way. Turkeys to one side, Eagles to the other. Is it hunting season? Too many turkeys being carried on trail! At least they knew what the flour signs meant thanks to FF’s incredible leadership skills. Stop to take in the view of the city, and move on. But where was the good shit? Next stop…are we in China? Who cares! Freeze pops! Did anyone check if Toh Foo has his clearances? The end is near. One Princess waiting for her knight in shining armor. Instead she gets a Ballbreaker. But she rode her anyway.
Sucks It In is the first to cum while Praying Man Tits and Flammer slide in together slowly. No down-downs or shitty singing to end the trail. Now what the fuck do we do? Scream like you’re not faking it and Just Brady wins the day.
Open wide, the wieners are ready. Thing 1 and Thing 2 put AC/DC in a Rear Naked Choke and he was spent. It’s not easy going multiple rounds in his stage of life. (Maybe he should stick to girls his own age.) There was music, but no dancers. And the kids tried their hands at “tossing”. Not salads. Water bottles.
All in all, it was good day to hang out with the fam. Now leave those little shits at home until next year and let's get back to business. My back can't take much more of that!
ONON I Want A Fuckin Refund!

HASH TRASH #921 The Hookup..The Interfuck!
80 plus wankers convened at the clubhouse. 9 different kennels, one large circle with the Grandmaster making non-virgins virgins again...they were touched for like the 3rd time...Or 20th depending on who's telling the story. On-on! Off we ran...Or hiked painfully up a mountain, smiley faces floured all over the mountain, taunting us up the hill. Beer near, shot near... A cliff... Almost jumped. A nice scenic view on a beautiful trail... Then rocks, a shit ton of rocks, cascading down an annoyingly steep and long hill, falls, surfing, frowny faces too. Some of our asses are black blue. Hash beer, circled up, down the hill, are those D-cups? Cause for Blindness, here she cums! Whoohooo, fucking done...ahh, too short. That's what she said...
Down downs, Virgin nips, and Star Wars underwear. You can't help but stare. Where did the Virgin come from anyway? Does it matter? They don't matter...Or do they? Nipples. So where is apres? We are in the middle of a mountain...Oh well...more down downs! The amazing Grandmaster with all his mastery made an announcement...That was only the 1st trail. Damn that 3rd beer. GM foot fairy tricked us again, no hills my ass...HHH...all lies.
Sexasketch and Fudge Packer's trail next. 
See..We like it longer... And that IS what she said. Through the creek and down the street, pretty sure my beaver got beat. On 1 On 2... Look who it is, Fudge and Sexasketch caught on trail. Bones and Vera and Just Kylie too... Ac/dc and Just Brad and Ricky Doby, to name a few. Pounding the pavement like your dad pounded your mom when you were conceived. On 1 On 2, down to Prospect Street. Yay we're done! Time for beer and some meat. Toh Foo relaxing sipping a beer in the shade... Wait this isn't right... There's no singing, down downs or hash beer in sight. Up and down and back around, we found a hare and trail was found (sort of). Finally HHH. Allegations were made, 
https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/u7e/1/16/1f3a4.png
🎤Just Bonnie ran over the mountain Just Bonnie showed her titties, Just Bonnie said nobody looked at them, so she showed her boobies againnnnhttps://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/u7e/1/16/1f3a4.png🎤
ChooChoo!
Back to the clubhouse for some beers and food... Horny hands provided back rubs... For all. Not that there is anything wrong with that. Oh what a shocker, husband got named (Just Brad) "TOO IN THE PINK" Hmm what a shame. https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v5/u57/1/16/1f609.png😉 Just Bonnie's turn, she's apparently single . "GOES DOWN ON THE REBOUND" and she's found again...until the next one.
There were beers and they say there was pizza and wings too. I don't fucking remember.

Cheers. DELICIOUS HEAD!
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Trash # 918 Making Reading Dangerous Again
"I see a light, I don't see a light" Vera Wangless. God is where the darkness is, the blackness. Do not look at the light orchestra. Foot Fairy gave good advice to keep your hand above your head when going through a tunnel. 
Happy Birthday to the Romanian Stefan and happy birthday to Dick on a Stick. Dick on a Stick picked up some dirty dynamite. 
The river crossings were plentiful and allowed some to swim whilst others held each others hands like sea otters.
Death Wish introduced the idea of going through long under ground tunnels, a mile of darkness. A polyphonic rise of songs came from about sixty Hashers rising through Death Wishes tunnels. 
Trail porn reared it's head as women hashers allowed their hair to flow and skirts to blow against prickers and thistles that velcroed their knickers high above panty line.
Children of the corn would have been proud. The corn was over head high after the forth of July. It is August 8, 2016.
Chain linked fences made their presence known, Reading is dangerous again.
Bobbed- wire fencing won the west; chain- linked fence brought the element of crime back to Reading, PA.
The powder, marking the trail, was so thick that most of the Hashers powdered their wet asses to soak up the moisture from the two deep river crossings.
A husband was lost and found...
The beer, Cheetoes and chips and pizza where delectable for a crime unit. Surprised, there were no donuts for a bunch of mystery solvers like these..
I have not counted the ticks and will because they have a tendency to climb up my bedroom walls the night after a shitty hash like this one.
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Hash Trash 917
"THE NOT SO DEARLY DEPARTED"
Most of us have been to a funeral and for all of us the experience is different. Maybe we liked the dearly departed - they were a close friend and we had the best sex ever with them that one night behind the washer. Maybe we are just there because it is wierd Aunt Sarah's illegitamate son with Dodgy Bob - the one with the cleft palate who pooped himself that one Christmas................ Yes, a funeral is different for everyone. And so as the unsupecting mourners/ hashers gathered at Forest Hills cemetary that sweaty sultry afternoon little unsuspecting that they were all about to have a very different experience as the Trail died around them.
For most of us it started pretty routinely. Up into the Klapperthall valley for a False, around to the Gravity Railway for another False, and then down into the Tunnel of Love for another False. Things were looking normal, wish the bereaved family your prayers and then a quick exit to get drunk. Then the Trail died. 
Let us discuss the main pack. We will consider them the highly confused mourners, it took them a while to realise that the Trail had died. Painstakingly spreading out across the ridge in a 20 ft square area, they easily spent 45 minutes trying to resuscititate the Trail. Minutely examing every piece of bird shit - touching, tasting, discussing, some of it was really flour. Calling back and forth like baby birds " Aaaaaaare you " " Wheeeeeere are you ", "Whaaaaaaaat" . Yes intelligencne at it's best! Subjecting themselves to rock enema's on the rock scree, they not once, not twice, but 3 times tried to resusitate the Trail. It looked like a group of gorillas beating a dead banana with a rubber hose. Highly successsful.
Then there was the middle group, that realised the Trail was dead, and decided to find a different live Trail.. They ran away. They ran around the cemetary, they run down Neversink Road, they ran down railway lines, but eventually they too resorted to beating dead banana's with a rubber hose, as the Trail would not come back to life. It was Dead, Dead, Dead.
However there was one young hasher, who was able to finally bring the Trail back to partial life -( like a zombie, I am going to chew your brains type life,) and that was one young Girlie Boy. Not believing his destiny, he ran hither and yon, and yonder and evern further yonder, until he encountered just Duane and his fat dog. The fat dog spoke to Girlie in a strange tongue that told of Tofu standing with much beverages by himself alone on the trail. So Girlie went forth, found Tofu, drank and followed the now living trail, across the waters, through the bandit lands and finally into the loving arms of Praying Man Tits ( I did say it was a zombie type eat your brains outcome ). He never returned to the Hash the same.
Personally, like all good funerals, I had got drunk beforehand, so I had a great time. Tofu, Princess Fiona and Wee Wee, the grieving parents of the Dearly Departed were sad and sorrowful, the rest of us just wanted to Circle. Circle was a litttle looooooong. However I did enjoy seeing the ice enema's of Dobby and newly named " I Want a Fucking Refund". I want one too, do you think it is still possible. So let all be warned, when you hold a Hash at a cemetary, THINGS DIE.
On on
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Hash Trash #916 for the 30th Running of the 4 O' July Sunrise. Brought to you by Delicious Head......because we all like Delicious Head!
Oh say can you see
By the dawn's early light
80 half brains convened
Drinking beer at the tower
Broads wore stripes and bright stars
See-through tights from the previous night
And the grandmaster we watched
As he gallantly said ON ON
And they drank Moosehead there
Burps bursting in the air
Gave proof through the hash
That AC/DC was still there
Oh say is that Sasquatch or 
Bigfoot? Don't wave!
As some ran passed the Pagoda
While we ran down through shaggy


Oh say can you see
The mark's on that big tree
O'er steep hills and loose rocks
Finally there is beer near
Just climbed down, now back up
Through the perilous thorns
Passed the water tower we see
Dunkin' Hines running backwards
And mimosas were there
Beer, wine, shots everywhere
Cemetery, Witch's Hat
And the trail was still there
Oh say will this shitty
Hash trail ever end
Breakfast and namings at the Reiffton
"Partial Erection" and "Delicious Head"
Peace out Wankers
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#915 Hash Trash by the "Barely" Living Legend! BAD SEAMEN! Our Beloved HPO. We are oh so honored.....
RH3 #915 Fantasy Hash
OK, so we had 47 hashers, 3 hares, a kayak and a bunch of panties. Let's start with the 47 hounds. Hashers are reputed to have only half a mind. Now, when you get two or more together you don't add half minds, it is exponential, so you multiply. Therefore 2 hashers combine for not one whole mind but rather for only a quarter mind. Add a third hasher and you are up to 1/8th. I tried doing the math for 47 and my calculator just plain gave out. It's something like .0000000000000000000000000000000005 of a mind. Just about right for that crowd.
The hares were Fleshwound, Octopussy and Real Boy. Again, with 3 hares we are blessed with 1/8th of a mind, and it showed. There seemed to be genuine confusion between them about bags, beer, trail, circle and any other questions that arose. Again, the half mind thing is only an average, so we may have started out a little short to begin with.
To the beginning.....circle was formed, directions were given, a new boot was introduced, and Fleshwound took off as a live hare......with a kayak. Since we were overlooking a body of water we all assumed we were going to get wet. But not so, the kayak was a clever ruse (as was the live hare, not). Trail was fine....trails, woods, open terrain under the scorching sun, a couple beer checks and a bunch of asphalt (for those trying to get out of the heat and back to the beer). Oh yeah, and a 22 mark backcheck (there is some argument over the number of backcheck marks, some said 22 and some said a hundred and 22). Anyway, it sucked.
Also along the trail were a number of pairs of panties, free for the taking. The hares had told us up front that anyone bring back a pair would be entitled to "special favors". And those coming in wearing the panties would be entitled to "extra special favors". Not so. For the first time in the 32 year history of the Reading Hash the hares lied to us. I felt so used. As it turned out the pursuit of panties was a little lackluster anyway, since the hares told us they were purchased at Goodwill. Sheesh, you'd think they could have at least sprung for the Dollar Store brand.
At the On-In the circle was formed and the usual accusations, counter accusations, lies and outright slander began. We were ready to really nail the hares for having nothing but cheap LITE beer on trail and at the On-In. Don't get me wrong, I am all for cheap beer at a hash, but light beer of any kind is a major cause for down-downs. But before I could speak up, what do I see the beer wenches doling out for down-down brews but Mickey's Malt Liquor in the Big Mouth bottle. Woo-hoo! The hares saved their own bacon big time by stepping up to Mickey's.
We had a naming......Just Melanie, for a variety of reasons but mostly since she works at Godiva was named Black Chocolate Matters. A couple real out-of-towners (Reading UK and Guam) did down-downs and the usual hares, ex-GMs, bald people, etc should have just all stayed in the circle the entire time, since when one (fill in the blank) drinks, all (fill the blank) drink. Foot Fairy closed things down by leading us in a rousing rendition of Swing Low, and we retired to the patio area where we proceeded to devour sandwiches and munchies like a swarm of locusts.
All in all a shitty event. Remember the 30th Reading H3 July 4th hash this coming Monday. Sunrise at the fire tower. Be there or be square.
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RH3 #914 - The Reading Bash Trash! By FU....
Saturday 6/18 saw a beautiful, sunny day for our first bash of the year/Foot Fairy's reign. 38 halfminds arrived at Angelica Park for the day's festivities, including Optopussy, WIB, Caughtchafuckin, Fudgepacker, Innuendo, Frank Burns, Hotlips, Sinderella, Clampounder, Sucks It In, Turtlehead, Shrinkage, ACDC (who still owes bash cash), Praying Mantits, Just Becky, Legal Easy, Just Tom, Swamp, Any Crack'll Do, Eats Grammy, Li'l Red Riding Ho, Jacks On, Clueless, Ducky, HOP, Mr. Bluster, Cums on Demand, Flamer, Stupid Brother, a bunch of Justs and someone who needs to sign with more than a fucking scribble. ACDC's bike saddle came well-equipped with the pink dildo from last hash mounted vertically. Several bikers took a look around at the Motley Crew before them and wisely said "fuck this" and rode off. Circle was short and trail instructions by hares Foot Fairy and NFB, incoherent at best. Our lone virgin was given Foot's admonishment that we could care less about him and he'd likely be a rotting corpse by day's end.
So off we went, like so many drunk hamsters, winding thru the maze of Angelica Park. Trail was finally discovered meandering thru the sewage treatment plant, where the kennel wasn't the worst smell in the place for once. Over to the Thun Trail briefly, but wait, veering off to the site of last year's July 4th après before climbing up the damned face of Neversink Mt. Near the top, a delightful home owner shrieked her objections to our riding on land she technically didn't even own. In a rare moment of lucidity, each and every basher stated this was their first ride in the area and they had no idea who was responsible for trail.
We arrived at the first incredibly overdue BN on 9th Street, and washed away the trial dust and deer ticks with Milwaukee Beast and other delightful swill. At this juncture, Bluster and several others split off to attend some Type A-related shit. Then it was back aboard our steads where we pedaled a familiar route past Canal Street, by picnicking locals and over the Railroad bridge back to the Thun Trail. Here the pack scattered somewhat. Several of us rode on the museum side of the Wyo Creek while others chose to slog thru an ankle deep bog, adding to their mounting body odor. We found the SN nestled in the woods of the park and they served us whiskey and wine.
Out the backside (or ass, if you will) of the park and on to the Ewok Forest behind the Highlands, where Frank Burns decided to turn his bike into a single speed by sucking a stick into his chain and tearing his rear derailleur off. Across Museum Road and a few turns later, we reach the alley
behind the house of Crack's squeeze Just Katie, where more cold golden nectar was served. A second batch of wankers split off, having had sufficient..ahemm..."fun" for one day. The remainder headed thru town and climbed the fucking mountain behind Shillington. Emerging from the park, a screaming downhill led to the Kenhorst Plaza and pool, with the HHH just beyond, mere dozens of yards from our On On. These hares are oh so clever...
Because of the wooded confines, circle bore no resemblance to a sphere. Down downs were fast and furious. No FRB or DFL were awarded. I was likely DFL, because no halfmind had the foresight to mark the last check and I spent an extra 10 minutes riding down false trails....grrrrr.
Après was at Oakbrook Brewery where we were graciously allowed one beer and one tube steak sandwich. Swamp and Flamer made an appearance, not having been seen since the On On. Where ya been, boys? wink wink, nudge nudge.... Foot Fairy likely scarred a few civilian children for life by awarding Licksmeat and Roids their necklaces, complete with interlocking half heart charms that read "Best Fucking Bitches" when joined together.
So, is BASH a contracture for "bike hash"....or an acronym for "Blood And Serious Headwounds"?
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ToeFU
Hash #913 – The Third Thirsty Monday.
Monday June 13, 2016 
ON-ON: Troopers / Circle: Hobo Camp under the RR Bridge; Apres: Troopers / Hares: FootFairy & Just Kylie / Hashers: MANY
This was a “not-as advertised” hash. First, the hare promised that 1) he’d have a grey wig; 2) a starters horn, and 3) a megaphone to help him do his best impersonation of a certain long-winded race director. We went 0 for 3.
Secondly, it was on the 2nd Monday of the month (not the Third), and finally – the hash's crack marketing expert (focus on the fact that he’s on crack), Toe-FU undertook a FBook campaign that would have led us to believe that beautiful naked women would be fornicating with elephants at some point during the evening. (Okay, so that PROBABLY happened, but I never got the Snapchat, so I don't believe it ...yet).
Still – if you like Hamms Beer (and that veritable ‘purple unicorn’ of beer – Hamm’s Lite!), treacherous climbs, wildlife (Deercheck!) many beerchecks, civilians who castigate you for scaring horses, well-timed trains that cut the pack in half, shiggy, burn-hazel, poison ivy, and hobo camps, then you didn’t walk away disappointed.
Here’s a few notes torn from the pages of my cum-stained notebook last night:
1) 1st Beer Check was less than a mile into the trail (2 points for the hares)
2) I may have lost count – but at least three (3) beer checks or shot checks, and a circle in a Zika-infested hobo camp (2 points to the hares)
3) Just Kylie who is hot as hell and could probably beat the everliving piss out of every guy on trail (2 points to Just Kylie for utter hotness and those pythons she's got for arms, and 1 point to her co-hare Foot Fairy for not getting his ass kicked while laying trail).
4) NFB unsuccessfully employed the Dogbreath 180 rule and wasn’t seen after he flew through the first beercheck. (point for the hares, and point for Girlie for ditching him)
5) Voyeur was “left behind” by the cruel thoughtless type-A hashers, and ended-up coming out of the woods hand-in-hand with a beaming AC/DC. (point for AC/DC, negative point for Voyeur who now has to go get a bloodtest)
6) Climbing the first hill under the bypass I found enough discarded tire rubber for Bambi to make me a second rubber gimp suit. (Point for Bambi)
7) Our hare “Just Kylie”s father attended – and put up with our shenanigans and double-entendre teasing/taunting of his daughter with but a shrug of the shoulders. (2 points for the hares)
8) Bushwacker – who tried to bully me into waiting for the walkers – and then bitched about our ‘Type A-edness’ for the rest of the trail ( 1 point for Girlie for having the patience of a saint -- or being deaf)
9) Fudgepacker – who told Foot Fairy (and I’m not making this shit up) that the circle was taking too long (point for the hares)
10) HPO – Our Hash Protocol Officer Bad Semen said something sort of kind of almost intelligent and intelligible (2 points to Mrs. Semen for putting up with that shit) 
11) Tour de Puke who has now made the drive from Harrisburg 2x in 2 weeks (3 points to the ‘Ass-Wednesday Hash’)
12) Just Jamie who did her best to direct the circle’s attention to what was beneath her skirt (no points awarded, 10 yard penalty assessed, repeat of down)
13) FootFairy who dragged out the circle until all the beer was consumed (point for the hares)
14) Sascrotch who – as ever – was a willing, able, and slutty little beerbitch (point for the pack).
15) A fine buffet at Troopers that definitely will have Mrs. Foot Fairy getting up in Mr. Foot Fairy’s grill when the Visa bill shows up (point for the pack).
16) AC/DC – who found some sort of plastic cock on trail. Ewwwww…… (no points awarded. Loss of down, and option taken to trade his ass to Harrisburg for a hasher to be named later)
Shitty Hash. 
Decoy
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Hash Trash, #910, Beer Heroes
30+ Wankers gathered at the base of the recently renovated Fredrick Lauer statue in City Park on a warm and sunny Monday evening. They soon learned that this was no ordinary Hash. This was to be a "History Hash", where our Hares would provide a history of the beermaking exploits of Fredrick Lauer and his compatriots in Reading, PA. Our Hares, a trio of old-timers thawed from a cryogenic deep freeze, began by waxing poetic about our hero of the day, providing a detailed history of Lauer's lifetime achievements in his pursuit of beermaking. And waxing....and waxing... As a side note, if you missed the Hash, you can still catch up on some of the history as Flamer is still at the statue reciting history. I believe he's on page 9 of 11.
As Flamer continued to wax poetic, restless Hashers began to (politely) encourage him to move it along. With sunset quickly arriving, Foot Fairy dispensed with introductions and we were finally given instructions. First Instruction...There would be no trail. WHAT? What kind of fu**kin* Hash is this? No Trail!? No dots to follow, no checks, no falses...Just an HX This was to be a History Hash. Next instruction...Stay together or you're fuc**d. So off we went to the next HX...Lauer Park. Once there we learned much information about the former brewery that once resided at what is now Lauer Elementary School and another brewery just up the street, the buidling adorned with a white copula. Next HX was to Buttonwood Street bridge, the former site of another brewery. While Hashers quenched their thirst, Hares regaled us with history of this particular brewery, including the still existing culvert that carried the old beer and other waste products from the brewery into the river. (This explains alot about the citizenry who lived downriver)
Off to the next HX, through RACC's campus and on to Southwest Middle School, the former site of, you guessed it, another brewery. After another beer history lesson, Hashers were sent off the the now abandoned site of the world famaous Reading Brewery. One enthustastic Hasher took this time to give herself a beer facial and shampoo. One final stop at Southern Middle School, another former brewery site, and we were within sight of our final destination, Nick's Cafe (HHH) where the apre commenced. Once there, we learned one final history lesson for the evening, that Nick's is the oldest, continuously family run tavern in the City of Reading, spanning 4 generations.
Beer was drunk, food was eaten, virgins were insulted, accusations made, more beer drunk, songs sung...a typical Hash.

Till next On-On,
Tongue Ya G-Spot

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Hash Trash: #908-A lot Closer 


It was a beautiful cummy-I mean sunny afternoon at Antietam Lake as the usual assortment of wankers and half minds gathered in lascivious preparation to get a lot closer. As the pack circled, our Hare Foot Fairy set forth a challenge: to swap clothing with another half mind to win a super-secret awesome prize. He also informed us the trail would be set unaccordingly to plan, live. Thus, many pre-lube beers were downed as we eagerly waited for our other Hare, Girl, to run around the mountain laying a thick white trail for us to follow. We had just one virgin, Just Liz, who failed to inform us how many times she had been fermented. She was tasked with sensually ringing Foot Fairy’s bell during the entire intercourse of the trail. Trail then departed into the hard woods. The pack thinned out and went in different directions with some folks missing the first lubrication of a shot stop near a waterfall. The trail continued to snake up hills, down hills, through the shiggy and water to the second lubricational beer stop. By this time most of us were getting a little wet and wanting to get closer. At the beer stop clothing started to come off…and unfortunately put back on as teams frantically undressed to complete the challenge. Any Crack’ll was seen showing off his legs as he slipped on Bush Wacker’s skirt while she wore his shorts. Big Scrot and Toe Fu revealed their girlish figures after changing tops with Just Dara and yours truly, RCMM. ACDC decided he would like to get closer with a garbage bag. Then off we went to complete the trail, during which time some boob sightings were reported and FF’s bright red bell was broken so it no longer rings. At the end of the trial, miles away from our cars in the middle of the woods, we circled. Tidy Bowl and Deadwood had allegedly run around the mountain until they found their culmination long before anyone else could get there. FRB was Bones, DFL was just Liz. As we circled, the cross dressing teams were called forward for judgement. ToeFu and RCMM, BushWacker and Any Crack’ll, Deadwood and Just ?, and Big Scrot and Just Dara stepped into the circle. In a surprise twist, Just Dara had given away even more clothing to reveal some side boob. Clearly, it was side boob for the win. After the usual accusations and down-downs the circle concluded. The clothing was again taken off and put back on and everyone headed to the apres at LTR, having gotten a lot closer.


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Hash #907 - Any Crack'll Do! 


It was a wonderful Monday evening, well until RH3 showed up in a quiet Wernersville neighborhood at what ended up being Crack's brother's house. The start of the Monday night hashes did not disappoint. Warmer weather brings less clothing! Just Jamie did not fail to embrace the crack idea with a pair of leggings that exposed her crack! About 25 hashers and hashetts showed up, but not a single virgin. Circle was quick, just like the last time I had sex, due to no need to explain anything. This was a 'live' trail, so our solo hare was given a 7 minute head start. About 5 minutes later, the self proclaimed DFL's, Hot Lips, Just Melanie, and Just Chris, started out after the hare because they needed a head start. The DFL's saved us some time and hill work, because the direction that the hare started out in, was a false. We searched for a new direction and started through the quiet neighbor of Wernersville, well, at least quiet for now. After working our way through the streets we found a check on a pole by a corn field, we all spread out in search of trail, after a while we found it working through the corn field, which lead back to the road, down the road we went until we found what looked like hash marks, but they were washed out? Someone doing CRACK? We spent what seamed like an eternity searching for trail from this point, until someone deciphered the last washed out mark to be a back check, which took us back to the pole, later we learned that it was a BC20! We followed the new trail towards downtown Wernersville, around a water feature, to the backside of a ballfield where we found our first Shot Near!!! We all downed a bit of tasty mango something, while watching the kids play, and hoping no one noticed. On again we went, until we found another false which brought us back to the field. Following a new trail, we risked our lives to cross 422 and made our way to our first BN!!! A good selection of bottled beer and a few crappy cans, and a recycling container to put the empties in, someone was thinking, except there was no bottle opener?!? I liberated the beer from the bottles for everyone and then found trail again. After another false we found ourselves on a familiar running surface, train tracks! We followed the tracks for a while, stopped at a roofing place, almost got the cops called on us there and then found trail leading through the woods. After weaving through some shiggy, we ended up behind someones house who didn't like us there. After threatening to have the cops called we moved on and back through the streets of Wernersville to Cracks brother's house with out event, except for seeing the cops a few times on the way back. We had closing circle with many down downs and Just Betsy graced us twice with the option as 2 trains went through town!! A trip to Paradise by the Slice followed with many great micros, beers that is, and good pizza. Just Dave

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Hash Trash #906, The Hijacked Hash. 4/16/16 (aka the Philly April Golden Showers Hash) After years of hashing, the Ambiguously Gay Duo of Just Dan and AKA decided to hare for their home kennel in Philly… wait a minute, they are Reading Hashers right? Are we not good enough to take their Hash Hymen? Fuck You, You Fucking Fucks! We’ll see about that! And see we did! Once again the travelling hoard from the Reading Hash House Harriers rose to the occasion and summoned Air Hinkel (and a much needed escort vehicle piloted by Wants it Bad) to set course for Glendside and teach those wanks a lesson on loyalty. So with 11 Reading hashers in tow (NFB, Sinderella, In U End Oh, Foot Fairy, Just Dara, Just Katie, Wants It Bad, Just Mamie, AC/DC, Fucking Deadwood and me… Fudgepacker plus a very jovial Dances with Whores made it as well), we set off in search of Gold. Now before we get too far into this, we must make note of the exciting trip down to Glenside. For those of you whom have never had the pleasure of riding Air Hinkle; you don’t know what you’re missing. A fast paced ride with turbulence, zigs and zags, rapid acceleration and deceleration (thanks to his cleverly designed air flaps). Essentially it’s one of those hold onto the “OH SHIT” handle rides and pray for your life. Well I think we all got a bit more than we bargained for this time. You see, NFB is a man of his word and even after being up half the night with a little case of food poisoning and a 45 mile bike ride with Foot Fairy to start his morning, he arrived at 1pm at Bowl Grill in Exeter to pilot Air Hinkel b/c he made a promise… awe, what a great guy. I think we got about 3 miles into our flight when the pilot decided to make an emergency landing into the Service Electric parking lot (not by choice) For a minor medical emergency. Needless to say (and without getting into all the gooey, slimy, smelly details), yours truly ended up commandeering the family truckster. As newly appointed interim pilot, I did my best to make our original pilot proud and keep on with the tradition of Air Hinkel. Now I must point out that while all of us where ready to call it a day and just head to LTR for a much needed drink after our near death experience, NFB rose from the grave and rebounded. There was no way he was going to not let us complete this journey. And thank god we did follow his sage advice (ok, he told us all “We are here to Hash and Hash we shall!” so shut the fuck up, get in the damn van and stop our belly aching. Why do you ask is it so important that we ended up going??? Well RH3 shows up @ 2:30 for a 3:00 hash. Get this, there are ELEVEN of us, ONE Philly Hasher and three virgins but NO HARES. After a minute or two, Dances shows up and then about 5 minutes later, the hares finally grace us with their presence. BUT, they arrive with NO BEER!!!! WTF? Maybe we should trade them to Philly, they have not been paying attention too well. Thankfully the hares live nearby and they shoot back to the eventual Après location and bring back a cooler of beer. We open the treasure chest and spy GOLD… Golden Monkey, Coors Extra Gold even a Lager or two for good measure… yumm. The hashers are thirsty and dive in. While we imbibe in the golden nectar, our Hares are checking their technology for Philly’s GM Jug Stain. She is “on her way and don’t wait” so the hares ask if our GM, Foot Fairy, would lead circle. Never one to turn anything down, Foot takes over and commands the virgins into circle. The usual shenanigans ensue and then the hares make their way in to give us instructions. We have the usual marks, the always desirable Beer near, Shot near, Boob Checks, Dick Checks and the old “Scenic View” … that left more than a few of us wondering WTF was that going to be. On to introductions and then we were off in search of more GOLD. All but NFB and Mamie that is. NFB smartly decided to recover from his grounding and rehydrate with more sensible beverages and some food. Mamie takes one for the team and watches over NFB as he rests in the parking lot and then she gets some homework done too. After a quick spin around the park we started at, we dive into the woods and start to offer crimson drops of blood to the Gods of Shiggy. The trail is anything but straight and we end up going in about 14 different directions looking for this shitty trail. Eventually we find our way and now aware of how these two live up to the “Ambiguous” title so given, we are much more aware of quick turns with no reason. We find more checks and false trails and eventually to our fist BN. The hares had rejoined us to inform us that Jug and another are nearing the start and we should continue on. Off we go, under and over a chain link fence and into a cemetery that we will eventually cover nearly every square mile of it. Soon we happen upon our first SV and we all start to consider just what the fuck we were to be “looking” for. Eventually AC/DC spots a WANG and thus we again bring into question what AKA and Just Dan like to look at in their spare time.. If their idea of a scenic view is a bunch of Wangs, most of us guys are not gonna like this trail. Further into the cemetery we go, trying to not step on lost loved ones. Back and forth we go, following dots to checks to dots to falses and back to checks in search of more dots. Some of the smarter hashers control their pace and realize you can avoid a bunch of running by watching the FRB wanna bees hastily dash left to right and then left again. Eventually we find another SV and it’s the “Dickmen” Crypt with a “Dick Check” right in front. A few of us reveal from a distance for the ladies who are bypassing this particular section and off we go again, getting thirsty and in need of some refreshments. Alas, we find another SV and what was there? I still don’t know but, off we go again w/ Deadwood and AC/DC leading the way while I follow the local knowledge hasher trying to conserve a bit of energy as I am in need of refreshments. Later on we find out that Deadwood and AC/DC ran right over the Shot Near and spared us from Jose Cuervo Gold, thanks guys! Back into the shiggy we go and there we stumble upon the boob check and another Beer near. While the group I was with did not offer up their treasure chests, the back of the pack supposedly got quiet the show, lucky bastards! We finally arrive at the Après location only to find a shower flowing over the beer and that we are not done! We get to encounter some of the Duo’s neighbors and wonder if there are ways we can ditch! The child of Deliverance decides that shooting us with his Nerf gun is fun and then the Oldest and Longest living resident of the block, Hank, stops over… more on him later. The pack is again back together and off we go looking for the HHH. We come across a check, turn left and blow right on thru the false in true NFB fashion and just like that, we are on trail. I guess the other way had some big logs that Want’s it bad wanted to go over, who knew she liked BIG WOOD that much? Go figure. Eventually we make our way back to our cars, NFB is alive and looking mostly alive. Mamie lifts her cranium from a book and the rest of us scour the ground for the HHH… Nope, not there. Oh well. Back to AKA and Just Dan’s for the circle and Après. Burgers and dogs start grilling, beer starts flowing and we wait for signs of Jug and her other Philly Hasher. As things are getting late and hashers and virgins need to be making tracks out, the Dynamic Duo call out to Foot to lead us in the closing circle. Foot gets the virgins into circle, he explains the option and gets the look we all know too well. We sing our song, they drink their drink and much to our surprise, Just Candi and Just Lisa (or Laurie or Linda… I don’t know) give us the option. This pleases us and Old man Hank very much. Foot asks Hank what he thought and I’m pretty sure he commented something like “ya seen one set, ya seen ‘em all” Got to love Hank!. All the virgins then start to move out and Just Lisa decides to give us a bonus option and drops trou and show off her finest “ass et”. It was a good day after all. Jug Stain and her other Philly hasher finally arrive, Jug’s other half and kids arrive too and somewhere in the middle of this, AC/DC brings out a blow up sex doll (female). Things got a bit crazy after that. At one point AC/DC is down on the ground after Just Dara jumped up into his arms and knocked him over. Sadly for us, his kilt flew up and his hooded cobra was in view for all the world to see, I quickly placed a foot over it to shield my own eyes and protect the innocent. Hilda (so I am calling this hot air filled doll) was an excellent beer bitch but she must have been drinking some b/c at some point she was flat on her back and Jug’s kids were playing with their new friend. Squishy had her fingers in Hilda’s mouth, her sister was holding Hilda’s arms or something. All I know is that AC/DC laughed harder than I had ever seen. Foot started ‘Swing Low’ and AC/DC was able to come back around for the final verse. All in all, shitty trail but as we determined on the way home, since both AKA and Just Dan are RH3, we outnumbered philly 14-2, and Foot led both circles… we need to call this one our own. On-On Fudgy


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Hash Trash #905 One Shot to the Wind ( it was goint to be an Ode to Crack's lost penis tip, but we realised that would be too short)





" It was dark , dank and moist as the squabs gathered in the rear ready to burst forth......" Oops, sorry, wrong story, That would be about the night before my colonoscopy. Let's try again.


It was a wild and woolly afternoon, with the wind whipping the snow through the trees as the brave landlubbers gathered for some beer and wenching. Realising it was way too cold to drink and wench,most of them left, leaving behind only the most moronic of morons - Hashers. Tofu and Mount Me handed out lovely little plastic cups to the remaining morons, which we all promptly broke as we tried to stuff them in various body parts. After a very complicated and cold explaination from the Hares about blue ribbon that might or might not be trail or a shot check, and a variety of marks that might or might not be there the Hounds said FU to Tofu and took off. Over the slippery bridges, by the old wine cellar and up the hill to our first Blue Ribbon Check. Fudge Packer decided to be fair to the wenches we would give up the obligatory Boob Check for a Penis Check. Yay, went the wenches - flash us. However after Crack and Sascrotch could not find their penises ( or is it penis'?) the wenches grew bored and wandered away. The pack meandered throught the forest over to a water tower and watched in fascination as Sascroth impaled his body into a bramble thicket..After about 5 minutes when it seemed he had done bleeding out, the pack wandered off for more fun things to find. At this point NFB could be heard screaming from up on the ridge, that he would not come down even if we were on trail. So we left him. Buggering along the trail, Real Boy's sharp geriatric eyes spotted a blue bow. We stopped to ponder the meaning of this, and eventually decided that the bottle of Blueberry whisky hidden in the tree stump was indeed meant for us and was not deer poison, so we stopped to drink it. It was very tasty deer poison. Most of us did have problems drinking from our cracked cuppages, so we spent a lot of time licking clothing, body parts and such. Crack then ungraciously decided it was time to move on and find more trail - bastard. So off we plodded, sliding around on the slimey sticks and steep slope. At some point Just Christina who had been given Foot Faries bell to ring was relieved of her duty by several veteran harriets who had decided that they were tired of the damn thing. As we sat around like baboons trying to smash it to pieces with a rock, Foot Fairy was screaming from further up the hill that he had 10 more. We didn't care. Unfortunaly the bloody bell was very resistant to battering so it was eventually returned to Just Christina.


The trail meandered up the Power Line, most of the Pack refused to go up at first, hoping for a flatter option. . Somewhere halfway up the hill Crack appeared to be having a seizure and screaming in tongues. As we got closer we percieved he was screaming about losing his tip. Had we seen his tip, and that when he finally found it, he was going to have it soddered back on. Ouch, sounds like a painful thing to do to one's penis. However each to their own. At this point, tipiless and broken hearted Crack ran away from the pack and was not seen for at least 5 minutes. The trail eventually brought us to the Witches Hat, where much posing for pictures was done, and Tipless Crack and NFB were found. Back down the hill where the Hounds very cleverly ran by the next shot check and completely ignored it. Continueing back into Klapperthall valley, the Hounds split into 2 groups. Those that found and followed trail, and those that realised they were 2 minutes from warm cars and clothing. So we ambled back to the cars, drinking the remnants of the Blueberry Whiskey. Circle was short and cold. Most of us scurried off to the cars to change while others went to rescue some wenches who had refused to leave the Witches Hat. Eventually all ended up at Liberty for much drinking, eating and merriment. Somewhere in all that merriment I was drunk enough to agree to write this Trash. I hope by now you are all bleeding from your ears, and I will never be asked again..........!

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#904 I Pity da Foolz!- Some more trash...this one by just Betsy!


Hared by Jungle Blow, Just Tiffany and Just Dave.


First, a shout out to Jungle Blow for having the courage and energy to host a hash at her house. Now the creeper hashers know where you live. Our Hash, got started with are typical call for all virgins, but I must say it’s the first time we had a red cock and a black cock in circle. I can’t decide which cock was better. As always Foot Fairy picked a female virgin to ring his bell throughout the hash. Just Dave slowly but deliberately laid out the marking for the Virgins. Just Caleb was given the honor of carrying a trash bag, to clean up. After a few more blah, blah, blahs, Jungle Blow, dressed as genie! (WTF) pointed us in the right direction.

We happily went on our way. Passed a very stinky spot and headed into a dark tunnel. We found several false trails but lost trail along 422. We all stood around scratching our heads and balls, trying to figure-out where the Fucking trail is? Even Legal Easy and other scouts could not find trail. It seemed like hours. Sascrotch found a crank, but not trail. Finally Sinderella and another decided to break away from the group, and amazingly, they found a beer stop! After filling our frustrations with alcohol, it was time to find trail again.


Back to the stinky hole, where trail was found. As well as a shot stop. Just Dave was hiding down a very steep, almost 90 degree, ravine. Several of our brave and desperate hashers decided it was worth going down on Just Dave who was campaigning Beads for Boobs.


Trail lead us to a playground, with a track. The markings lead us in a circle around the track, WTF! Are the Hares playing us for a Fool? A few quick rides on playground equipment to kill time until trail was located. A lot of BMW (bitching, moaning, whining). We moved upstream near the museum to find NFB who scouted the area and he determined that trail could not be located. Just saying, never trust a talking garden gnome. Completely frustrated we decided to head (yes I like the word head, a lot of head) back to Jungle Blow’s house. Some of us chose to cross at the creek to cool our inability to find trail. Foot Fairy stopped traffic on the bridge using his blind man routine, the red and white stick really works. I am starting to feel we are the blind leading the blind.


Arriving at Jungle Blows house to find her sister surprised that we are back already. She asked us several questions about the other alcohol stops. She gave us a few hints which direction we need to go. Most of us head in the right direction, some wankers decide they are so frustrated that they need to leave to find a real bar, other slackers decide to Auto hash to the assumed area. Being a slacker, I decided to ride in a pristine car that had that new car smell with Hot Lips, Frank Burns and Knee Brace guy. Beating the pack of fast hashers, we found Jungle Blow with her April’s Fool joke… a cooler of root beer soda!


Trail was improving, FINALLY! Made our way to shots near, hosted by Just Tiffany who had a shitload of jello shots, hidden under a bridge in a black cauldron. Of course Inyourendo and I got a tiny bit off course. Retuned to the spot where the soda had been to find alcohol in its place.


Ended back at Jungle Blow’s house to find an egg hunt in her backyard. Prize eggs = booze, Circle time with a very entertaining virgin bell ringer. Ending the hash with tasty food provided by the Hares. Who doesn’t like grilled, black wieners that taste wonderful in my mouth.

Love you long time!

Just Betsy

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Hairy Palms Birthday Hash #903

     It was a nipply day, with a stiff breeze, for the first day of spring.  Not too many complaints from the male hashers though.  We were asked to meet at the middle school parking lot.  But due to the fact that several hashers were not allowed within 500 meters of the school, we had to carpool to the on-on starting location.  There was a scramble for the dry bag drop in the back of a pickup truck.  Aka and I had the privilege of riding with co-hare Little Bunny Foo Foo.  Not sure what music was playing, but it started to make me a little randy.  That's another story for later.

     Upon arriving at circle, the usual suspects were present, along with a few virgins.  The illustrious Foot Fairy grilled the virgins, asking who made them come, and managed to create an incestual situation.  Not surprising.  Our GM has a penchant for bells.  So he instructed the virgin, Just Wendy (our token Asian), to ring his bell throughout the whole hash.  Co-hare AC/DC instructed the circle and virgins on what the flour markings meant.  Since it was AC/DC's birthday, he had on his birthday suit (flesh colored skin suit with misaligned nipples, and a few fig leaves covering his genital area).  Everyone will be forever scarred.   

     Once the pack of horny hashers were pointed in the right direction, we were on our way to a day of fun and frolicking (not froglicking)!!!  Almost immediately, the frb's created confusion by coming to the end of a false trail, that wasn't marked.  A handful of hashers missed the first beer check (shitty beer, of course) when we had to come back towards the parking lot. When everyone came back together, Sascrotch sniffed out the first shot check at some dumping grounds.  At the shot check ,there was a thermos full of some strange peach alcohol on ice. Once again, confusion followed as the trail went down a steep embankment.  For those who chose to go around, you missed a fun slide causing a small avalanche.  Along the way, skeleton trail treasure was to be had on this shitty trail.  There was also a small memorial, in the form of a cross, which AKA desecrated with his urine.  He claimed he was sharing his beer!

     The pack came back together once again, leading us to a marshy corner of Lake Ontelaunee.  Our delightful co-hares and bartenders treated us to an apple pie shot, which was quite delicious.  After climbing up to a tree stand, AKA was trying to give Sucks it in a tip for making the apple pie shot.  I told him to give her the whole thing!  Immediately following, Jug Stain decided to make it a spa day, by falling into a mud bath.  I must say, her cheeks were quite smooth, and yes I did check!

     After traversing back and forth across the road, including a nice steep climb, we all circled back to the HHH, and back to the middle school.  Well, everyone except Dan Sezwith Oers!  Thank goodness there was one bag left in the pickup truck, to signal that there was one hasher still on trail.  Bluster and Cums On Demand saved the day by picking up our DEAD FUCKIN LOST hasher.  Shitty PBR beer after the hash anyway.
   
     Oops, guess we forgot to do a head count! (Head, who said head?).

The apres started at Village tavern in Leesport, where we were ushered to the fresh air section of the bar.  With many hairy palms in the circle jerk, the normal down downs were  aplenty.  Surprisingly there was decent beer, but at least 20 hashers continued on to the LTR.

This sure is a drinking group, with a running problem!!!  On-On!!!

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Just Dan and AKA


Hope I did this right!
Hash Trash
Hash #902 “Smells Like Fish” Birthday Hash
Hares: Dances with Whores, Just Amy, Just Melanie

What is their to do on your birthday when you have nothing left to celebrate? Hash of course. Pre-lube took place at the Rail Road house where shots were being poured before we even began to run. There were many unsuspecting patrons judging us as if it was way too early to be drinking, but we have all been judged for worse. When we circled up we discovered that we had 7 virgins on our hands. Foot Fairy could barely contain his joy when he saw Just Julia’s towering size. The only way he could keep his mind on the hash was to have her ring a bell from start to finish so he did not get lost in his wet dreams.

At 2 pm we were off and starting down a trail that kept the pack pretty close together. After running down the rail road tracks for what seemed like an eternity, we turned to the road and headed for your favorite place and mine, the uphill cemetery. This led to a single path through the woods with lots of thorns, branches, and shiggy. Then the light at the end of the tunnel appeared, a bottle of birthday cake Pinnacle! Not long after we hit another of the very well placed beer near stops which unfortunately led us back to the train tracks but not for long as we were back on the street and headed for the first water crossing, though some decided to take the log way across. After a quick jello shot we we sent to the dumping grounds of kitchen appliances located strangely close to a playground and neighborhood. As a treat for surviving the suburban hell of matching houses, fences, and basketball nets, we were treated to a beer stop equipped with rotten chairs and broken plastic bikes. After having our fill of fun and drinks we were off again only to find another water crossing (Fucking Pisces)(I can say this, I am one) and some kind of delicious cherry moonshine witchcraft. In our now not sober state we ran through a not so scary, though filled with full moons, Shocktoberfest and made our way back to the Railroad House. Circle was full of virgins, drinking, singing, and new boots.

Just Dara

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Hash Trash 901- Anthracite Absurdity
Hares: Flamer, Tidy Bowl, Roadkill

Who was crazy enough to drive over an hour for bad beer? Little man on a boat, Any crack'll do, Ghengis can't, Foot Fairy, Stupid Brother, Swamp, Hot Lips, Girlie, Turtlehead, Tin Lizzy, Just Therese, Horn of Plenty, Little Bunny Foo Foo, Sascrotch, Toe-fu, ACDC, Sinderella, In-u-endo, Fudgepacker, Caught ya Fucking, NFB, Optopussy, Dirty Bath Turd and his 4 virgins.

The pre-lube met at Goodfellas. Most people actually stayed outside and lubed in the parking lot. For those who went inside to use the restroom, you might want to take some penicillin for anything you may have contracted while in there.
The bar tender was drunk (yes at 1:00) and knew Wants it Bad from a previous life.
We drove over to the on-on in a city parking lot. Chalk talk was tended to and introductions were made.
The entire skook h3 kennel was there which consisted of Dirty Bath Turd and the 4 virgins he brought, oh and his 10 year old son bc we all know hashing is a superb child friendly activity.
On on was up up up and up and more up. After much confusion in a cemetery we continued further up to the top of the ridge for a beer near. Surprise it was the nectar of the Pottsville God, Mr yeungling.
On-on again, most of us followed trail along a treacherous steep cliff. Crack of course found the most unsafe cliff to try and climb, proving that any crack really will do, even a shifty, loose one in the coal region...
We finally cum upon a shot near by an old cave. A few hashers went into the big dark hole of the cave, they must have been desperate for some coal cracker hole. From there we continue on trail where the frb's pull the most dick move of all dick moves. They follow trail up hill to a false but wait for half the kennel to get there before revealing the false. I say we hand out more bricks... From there we go back down to a beer near at Roadkill's sisters. From there, we all went down and down and down for a really long time. Usually going down for a long time isn't bad but this was too much of a good thing. Down hill back to our cars and moving on to the apres at a hole in the wall bar that was cozier inside than its outer appearance, just like many coal region ladies. Circle was held with the new GM making a fabulous effort on his first time. It was much like any teenager on their first time, it was awkward and didn't last long! Here's to the new GM!!
Disrespectfully submitted by Optopussy.
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Hash Trash #899 The beloved Groundhog Day Hash, January 31st, 2016
Hares: Foot Fairy and Horn of Plenty

True to his word and after his month fucking long publicity for this shitty trail, Foot Fairy got his snow hash. A madness of tardy and loud booze hound hashers gathered at Eglemans Park in search of groundhogs, beer, shots and boobs... And 6 more weeks of shitty trail drinking! Madness: A group of marmots... Aka large squirrels. Groundhogs. After Fudgepacker took us through introductions welcoming Colorado and her Virgin Alabama, Foot Fairy explained his markings (praying for boobs), we drank delectable bourbon from Drunxatawny Bill himself (courtesy of LVH3) and set out on trail. The bitching was live straight out of the gate. Fucking snow, can't see the logs, the goddam hills. Can someone tell me why all the bourbon and whiskey was cinnamon or cherry flavored?? Grow some balls and stop wasting your money on that weak booze. Some were sprinting, some were sauntering and others were openly bleeding through the white dusted wilderness. It took ~26 minutes to complete our first mile and reach our destination of deja vu. We downed some beer and were forced into the back of a Penske truck driven by a presumably imbibed Bad Semen to our next leg of the trail. So now, you have over 50 sweaty, bloody, sexually charged hashers locked in a hot box just huffing each other’s pheromones. All we needed was a baby pool and a couple of riding crops so the first hasher porn could have been filmed. Yes, they closed the roll door and locked it for our "safety". We were loaded up from the same beer near and kicked to the curb over and over again. Each trail we set out on seemed to get shorter but steeper with a shot to ease the monotony.... And the boobs Foot Fairy prayed for, but never saw (twice). When would it end!?! Finally, after our third and final Penske haul of soggy shoes and shitty singing, we ran up a 70 degree incline driveway to get the directions to our Apres. We reconvened at Horn's vacant home where much debauchery and drinking ensued. When was the last time you rode in an empty moving truck and got invited to a vacant home where it turned out this good?? Shogun Fudgepacker (was that a fucking kimono you were wearing??) gathered us for the circled up. We sang, drank, accused and punished the dunces. After a series of pointless stories and some serious flirting between the not so ambiguously gay duo ACDC and his LHV boyfriend, just Tony was named Tongue Ya G Spot and Just Tab Shall forever be know as "Superfly"!

Respectfully submitted,
Just Kylie


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Hash Trash #898 Shave Your Beast Hash

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Hash Trash #897 Happy Hangover New Years Day Bash, January 1st, 2016
Hares: Father Ferment Me and Just Darrell

What better way to treat your hangover and celebrate a new year then to sweat out all of that alcohol and replace it with... More alcohol!!

A group of 49 half-minds stumbled together on a chilly morning at the Blue Marsh State Hill Boat Ramp, some still groggy and booze laden from the prior nights festivities, others bright eyed and bushy tailed from the frigid morning bath they took at Mr Bluster's Polar Bear Plunge. Father Ferment Me laid his marks in circle so our fearless leader Fudgepacker (long may he reign) could explain them to the first 5 virgins of 2016. After some incest discussion and orgy debating, introductions were made, and off we went in search of flour and alcohol.

With the pack being lead by Girlie and the empty headed whistle blowing NFB, we wandered through the woods and brush to emerge on the muddy shores of the beautiful dirty Blue Marsh Lake. Much to our dismay, the hares outsmarted themselves and we blew by their very strategically placed shot stop temporarily missing out on the bottle of Fireball that awaited us... Luckily it would warm our insides later in circle. Trail continued up and over cliffs, through woods and fields, and shorelines and swamps leading us to a cooler full of some frosty, long awaited swill. After some more twisting and turning through the trees, ups and downs on hills, and lots of meaningless checks we found the ourselves passing the HHH back where we started at  40°22'03.3"N 76°02'33.1'W.
  
After what felt like a chilly eternity, the park ranger left and lifted the short-term prohibition. We circled up, sang, drank, accused, punished, and shared some steaming hot weinies before moving the party to the toasty confines of Paradise by the Slice.

 Thanks to Father Ferment Me and Just Darrell for laying the shitty trail... and cheers to everyone for cumming out to celebrate Father's Birthday and getting the 2016 Hashing season started off right! We all rock!
 
On-On,
Any Crack'll Do


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Hash Trash #896a Boilo Flash Hash, December 16, 2015
Hares: Any Crack 'l Do and Foot Fairy

There were few brain cells at this gathering of the minds, althoughit was a good mix of trail followers including myself, Suck it in, The Foot, Fudgep Acker, Inyourendo and others. If I would have the list this wouldve been a hell of a lot easier.
Directions were givin to which way to proceed so as we left one by one into the the chill of the night, blinded by the darkness, onto the savage streets of Reading. We followed what seemed to be flour, but it couldve been some other white substance that fell out of baggies.
We hoofed it up Center Ave past Riverside Elementary to have our picture taken with some dead guys to prove we had the balls to visit a cemetery. It was spooky but we survived.
After some confusion on which way to go we reached the building for unwanted children and then encountered a gentleman that either couldnt speak English or was dipping into a bottle of Mad Dog.
Once trail was found we headed down to what used to be Charlies or something. There beverages drank and funny dude we tried to take pictures of but to no avail. After we departed we hightailed up Front St past my old junior high and the two places I lived as a small pounder, We past Dana and part of Car Tech till we finally made it back to where it all started. Boilo drinks were had and competition followed.

Clampounder

Added info from Fudgepacker: The other Hashers: Hot Lips, Dances With Whores, Little Bunny Foo Foo, Optopussy and Turtlehead. An of course the other Hare: Any Crack 'l do. And BN was at Sofritos Gastro Pub. A great time was had. I even recall some others showed up after their Type A activities... they shall remain nameless.
 

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Hash Trash #893 "Don't be afraid of the Dark" hash , October 25, 2015
Hares: Just Brandon and Fucking Deadwood



Hash #893 saw a meeting of the halfminds in the lot behind the Reading Museum. In attendance were AC/DC, Just Kyle, Just Lisa, Optopussy, Little Big Dick, Foot Fairy, Just Joanne, Just Dave, Dances with Whores, Wants It Bad, CaughtYaFuckin, Innuendo, NFB, Bluster, COD, Legal Easy, Fleshwound, Jungle Blow, Just Josh and yours truly....ToeFU. Notably absent was our GM Fudgepacker, who was rumored to be packing fudge in one of the Low Countries across the pond. Circle commenced under questionable authority of ACDC and introductions made. It was a virginless hash. Our hares, Fuckin Deadwood and Just Brandon explained trail, a benefit to those of us with brain damage or ADD. And off we went.....

Trail started through the sculpted parks of West Reading. Wyomissing was in autumnal splendor as we ran down streets of fallen leaves as locals gazed warily, their fingers scant millimeters from the speed dial button for the Wyo Police. A familiar turn took us past a public park sign adorned with a "no trespassing" notice.  (WTF?!) Just ahead, we descended into a dry creek bed for a well-earned BN stop. Properly quenched, we pressed on...emerging near the end of Penn Ave., which we crossed to follow the familiar train tracks there. Up around Granite Pointe we ran, negotiating the steep front side with nary a fracture or sprain. (Or billing opportunity...)

In something of a deja vu, we headed through the mall parking lot and following orange post-it notes, into the mall. A few FRBs followed the trail up the elevator, through the  second floor of Bon-Ton and down and out into the center of the mall once again. Reunited with the pack, our intrepid hashers rounded the corner to discover a second Beer Near in Ruby Tuesdays.

Trail departed from the mall and led us toward Best Buy where we encountered a charming drainage channel, filled with eye gouging branches and large unstable green rocks with the traction of Teflon. And then, the tunnels... Vietnam has nothing on Wyomissing. The pack thrust itself into these long tight cylinders like so many suppositories. Emerging from one such orifice, we were met with a 6" ledge of rocks along a concrete wall. One slip was guaranteed to plunge you up to your privates in cold black water (as Wants It Bad soon discovered). We scurried through shiggy below the highway, following ample flour when FRB Legal Easy nearly bumped into the hares, who were lolligagging in the false assumption the pack wouldn't be along anytime soon. This resulted in the hares bolting, forgetting that whole "trail marking" thing, and leaving the pack clueless as to where the trail went.

At this point, we pressed on, scaling a fence guaranteed to turn a Bruce into a Kaitlin, and split into two groups to find trail. Bluster led his bunch through the anals of Vanity Fair and across the Park Road bridge before our long lost hares drove by, yelling out the address of the HHH. Gratefully, we slogged across to a reception of crotch-sniffing dogs, summer close out beer and "where the fuck is the pizza!?" Circle was held, songs sung and the kennel departed as a nipple-stiffening chill set in.

Derogatorily submitted...

ToeFU
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Hash Trash #892, Holow Weenie Hash, October 17, 2015
Hares: Mr Bluster and Cums on Demand



Mr Bluster and Cums on Demand were our hares for this festive Halloween themed hash. In true form, hashers showed up decked out in their Halloween finest. I was surprised to see only one hasher in drag, but perhaps Caitlyn Jenner's transformation is not as wide reaching as she/ he had originally intended with all his/ her publicity and unfortunately Ducky is the only one inspired by her/him anymore.
We circled up behind the office of one of our fellow hashers who implicitly said no flour in the parking lot... WTF?! Kinda hard to have circle and show virgins the marks without flour. However there was only one virgin and he was basically told, "don't get lost".
The hares piled us into trucks and and and drove us about 5 miles over to the mall to start the on on. Nothing like watching 15 men climb out of the back of a moving truck in the mall parking lot. On-On through the mall to the first shot check behind crown plaza. Delicious wiggly pumpkin something's. The next beer near was at building 7 where Tuna happened to be cleaning her studio. So we did what any good hashers would do and played with her equipment. After consuming some interesting shots we continued on-on to railroad tracks. Very active railroad tracks. Luckily no one was killed but let's just say we probably scared the crap out of the conductor. The train did split the group but somehow we all met up at the next beer near. It was a long run from there to the end. We did manage to stop long enough to photobomb a bride's wedding photos. We circled up back where we had started. So more like a B to A trail. In circle, Just Dale was named Praying Man Tits. We all froze before moving onto the on after at the hares house.
Optopussy


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Hash Trash #891 "new boot" hash , October 11, 2015
Hares: NFB and Girly Boy

Hash started at the Shemanski Berks Catholic football stadium where many touching moments were had in classic Catholic fashion. Trail took us up the mountains of St.Lawrence. We hashed in typical NFB style with lots of circling around and back tracking.
A bottle of Jager was had by most and killed by Caught Ya Fucking. He showcased his incredible ability to swallow large quantities of fluids and proved not to be a spitter, as speculated by some. Caught Ya is suspiciously good at the blowing of horns and sucking of fluids.
The trail took us all over including private property, where a man told us to F off on a very large mechanical device with fast moving blades and reinforced the no trespassing sign. That trail proved to be a F in more ways than one.
Lots of PBR was had back at Shemanski stadium where the hash had ended. Dances stayed with the DFL which happened to be a young lady. Downs were had by our four virigins that came and made me come multiple times in circle as beer bitch. The suck and swallow technique proved to be a challenge for some virgins in the circle, maybe Caught Ya can offer some pointers.
Apres was at Liberty Tap Room, or know as LTR to some, and supported by my old roommates. Thanks Jeff and Mary! In lieu of hosting the wedding reception of my future they preferred a hash. Overall shitty trail, on-on!👣

Respecfully submitted by Just Jordan

NEW BOOTS: aka Virgins: Just Nicole, Just Kyle, Just Tom and Just Trish.  Plus the guy from across the street who joined in for a down down.
Cheers to NFB and Girly for a truely splendid FREE trail that reminded us to 1) stay on trail, 2) as a hare, sometimes shorter is better than longer.. it's all about GIRTH and how you do it.

On On

Fudgepacker
 
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Hash # 890 Old as Dirt Hash: Sept. 27, 2015
Hares: Frank Burns and Hotlips

It started off with all hashers at attention in the rear Cabelas parking lot (just like our GM likes it). First things to notice were that ACDC still had all of his clothing on, while NFB taunted us with his small but eager pecker. The hares of this hash were no other than the amazing Frank Burns and Hot Lips (my ultimate girl crush:-P). The trail started off strong with roads then went to some exciting trail spots. We had a beer stop where I got the rest of ACDC's goo..just the tip though and I only used my tongue of course, followed by a door stop and then the exciting miss stop where we all got a very gracious smooch from Hot Lips..we also engaged a slightly used and run down BMX bile to set on to see how many hashers could fit on one bike. .total count was at least 8... there is a picture somewhere so please tag it to this post. The trail continued on the railroad tracks and ended in a parking lot near cracker barrel. After risking our lives to cross back over 61 to get to our cars, we continued to the hares house where circle was hosted by the one and only Fudgepacker. Of course, the hares were called out for shitty trail, false accustomed were made by ACDC and a few namings ensued. Just Bobby was named Ricky Dobby the Hash Elf after his penchant for always wanting to be first, b/c if you aint first, your last (Ricky Bobby Talledega Nights) and his equal desire to please, just like Dobby the house elf from the Harry Potter series, thus Ricky Dobby, the Hash Elf. And not to be alone in a naming, Fudgepacker brought forth Just Megan. He was impressed by her warrior like attitude and beautiful red hair... He mentioned something about Cameron Diaz and hot red heads... Thus Just Megan was crowned: Princess Fiona. Last but not least we celebrated the whole reason we had gathered, Hot Lips birthday! Good beer and good times for all.
Respectfully submitted by Princess Fiona with some edits by Fudgepacker.
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Hash Trash #889, Anniversary Hash, 9/22/2015
Hares: NFB, Flaming Asshole

The anniversary hash for reading HHH 31st year. We started out with a great introduction by AcDc since NFB decided a phone call was more important than the anniversary hash. A short introduction was made and all those attended had the pleasure of meeting the original grand master Uncle Reese. Hashers from years past showed up for the event. Along with two virgins Just Mark and Just Jeff. Just The Tip made Just Mark cum. And nobody made Just Jeff cum he did it all by himself (a tip of the hat to him). A short speech from the grand master, about his gratitude that the hash he originally started is still going strong. On on down the road the hash began. Sharp turn back behind the houses brought us to our second check which involved doing a 180 degree turn and running back the way we came. Out to the road we crossed over to the highlands safely stopping traffic our hare NFB made sure every hasher was safe. On on through the highlands yard zigzagging back and forth into the woods. As we entered the pines it was glorious site to see a cooler and NFB. Drinks were consumed and some of the hashers even enjoyed the Christmas beer. On on up the trails of the highlands we ran. No Shiggy was to be found. We ran a well manicured trail run through the elites of reading. Our first and only water way caused confusion and unfortunately had no flour in it. The majority of the group crossed the bridge and had on on while Bones, Toefu, just Jeff and myself ran on our side of the creek and also followed trail. I'm still not sure who was following the on on and who was following the no no. Confusion continued as we tried to find where the flour went after the check at the bridge. On up the trail went through the mowed pasture. The majority of the hashers decided that they would run up the hill to get to the HHH faster (tisk tisk). So on up then back down to the HHH. Turns out it was the site of our BN. We circled up and were rushed through the circle. Down downs were handed out. AcDc showed us his chest and we rushed off to apres at chatty monks. All in all a shitty hash. No shiggy, no one got wet, not enough BNs, and it didn't get dark. I do commend all who hashed for staying together as group.
Just Josh and Just Jordan
On-On

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Hash Trash # 888, Top of the Tiddy, 9/19/2015
Hares: Just Bobby and Toe FU

What started off to be a beautiful late summer Saturday quickly escalated into one of the longest hashes that no one finished. As the hares and Hashers gathered at Union Jacks on the Mighty Manatawny, it was starting to warm up and things were starting to get moist. Across the way, the rest of the pack started to gather; pulling us from our comfy barstools. For our first Saturday  hash in quite a while and having been a few weeks since our last Hash, I was hoping for a better turnout but with some fun local festivities happening all around the Berks County area, a turn out of 16 Hashers was OK. 
So there we were, Just Bobby and Toe FU described the trail and off they went to mark the beginning section of trail. The kennel relaxed a bit, finished off some prelube beverages and slowly started walking down the road in search of trail. After a minute or two, the pack was off, and from what I would eventually learn, after a minute or two of that, 4 hashers decided they had enough and wanted to go straight to the Apres… smart girls.  After nearly 2 miles of strait road we came to the first BN, NFB did his usual and started up the “Tiddy”. I followed him up the power line knowing that the massive hill that lay before me was going to take just about all I had.  Slowly moving up this massive mound we went. UP and UP and UP for what had to be ¾ of a mile and close to 700 feet of elevation. At long last, NFB found a SN and waited for the rest of the kennel, or at least who we thought was still on trail.  We knew no-one could have gotten lost on the trail as it had been a straight shot with only 1 check so we hoped that the missing harriettes would be taken care of. To our joy, the hares had placed a large amount of ice in that soft cooler along with the margarita shots. Due to the heat, more ice than shot was had but we took it all with us like good hashers should. After a short bit of trail, we found ourselves once again on more roads… another 2ish miles of pavement leading us to our 3rd stop where we found Toe Fu and a bag of beer. It was at this point that he confirmed the dropping of our first 4 hashers. They were safely at the Apres drinking a fine Belgian tripel that Just Bobby had waiting for us. I’m not sure if it was the thought of that crazy Golden Monkey or the heat or the thoughts of more roads but the pack commandeered Toe Fu’s Denali and forced him to drive off with us inside. We picked up the horn and then past the two FRB’s of NFB and Just Beth but we stopped, backed up and even these two diehard runners jumped in.  There we were, 12 hashers and one hare… auto hashing. At what would have been about the  8 ½ mile mark, we hopped out of Toe Fu’s transporter and started back on trail. More Roads, through partially cut down corn fields and into the final stretch of shiggy we went. After what  some have calculated to be just over 9 ½ miles.. it was nice to relax at Just Bobby’s house. He had plenty of food, a ½ barrel of Golden Monkey and enough chairs.  Circle was fairly short. We made the Hares drink the most b/c they deserved it. NFB and Just Beth took FRB, I think ACDC was DFL along with Just Megan. Several accusations, and to top it off a reading from ACDC and his trail treasure:
“I went comping with my frens.
Had Fun
My mom and dad had frens over to
We went riding
I had fun
We d int to rost marshmelose cus ther was a rug in it”

On-On

Submitted by Fudgepacker

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Hash Trash #887 Short Straw Hash (sort of not) 8/31/15
Hares - ??? but ended up being Foot Fairy and our very own GM Fudgepacker, aka A Pair of Dicks

43 Hashers showed up in erect salute to pull wood at Liberty Tap Room. Pre-lube was of fine stature in preparation for wood selection. Fudgepacker gripped the wood for all to stroke their luck. Foot Fairy commonly seen playing with his own stick, pulled the length of his own wood and drew the short dick...I mean stick. He then chose Fudgepacker to hare along side of him and away they went.
Hashers were off in hopes of finding a BN and a chance to pull more wood. Hotter than the hinges of hell, there were saggy balls, swamp ass and river tits. The heat was not the only challenge for some, as Just Cassie overturned her freshly healed ankle. Fear not, a knight in Ginger Armor "Just Matt" galloped to her rescue and returned her safely to Liberty where she recovered with lubrications.
Through it all, it appeared that Foot Fairy and Fudgepacker went to frolic in the woods alone to play with their wood. Not wanting to share, no more pulling of wood was to be had by hashers. WTF?? who knew FF & FP could gallop up the hill to Knights Pub so quickly. Conspiracy arose...passing Knights Pub, we made our way to the Liederkranz where we eventually found the HHH. HA! We Were Had...as the Hares left a note stating they were already back at Liberty still holding their wood and lubing up. Ready to swallow, we all enjoyed good beer and a secret shot concoction prepared by Foot Fairy's wife. No More Wood Pulling! The group of Hashers split like an ass crack and went their separate ways. Some ran down spook lane while others reversed trail and made their way back to Liberty for the aprés.
We gathered in circle not once, but twice. Who fucked up circle and disturbed the local community? Clearly someone with No Fucking Brains, who blew their load too hard and too fast mandating we had to switch positions to find the G-spot.
Lets roast some virgins and toast Jungle Blow as Reading H3 is their new official home. Dead Fucking Wood was also roasted...I mean toasted...for his upcoming wedding to the true hare in his life.
Accusations were made, down downs were consumed and we all enjoyed high quality beer and great food at Liberty.
Screw you Foot Fairy & Fudgepacker for your skills of seduction and manipulation on this Shitty Trail. Next time you should be sure others are open to lubrications so many can try and pull your wood too!!!
ON-ON
Just Beth


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Hash Trash #886 - Mystery Hare 8/24/15
Hares - Dances with Whores
43! hashers gathered around a parking lot that was curiously close to Excitement Video, yet our mystery hare decided the trail was HARD enough without a visit to the premier purveyor of pornography in Reading. Upon arrival, it was quickly noticed the the mystery hare was in fact Dances with Whores, immediately rendering the entire mystery hare thing pointless. Alas, we soldiered on to listen to what seemed like a 35 minute liturgy from Fudgepacker as he explained to our 5! virgins the chalk talk and the history of hashing. Our no longer mysterious hare informed us that we were NOT going to his house.
And we were off! Pausing briefly to stop traffic on 222, we traversed up roads and sidewalks, through gated parking lots, and then through, or for the more seasoned hashers, along side of, creeks. The first beer stop was filled with raucous behavior that included, but was not limited to: ACDC meeting his new girlfriend, which happened to be a kickball with a hole in it, Fudgepacker giving everyone a handie, and Just Tab standing in the deep end.
We then continued our journey which led us through the bustling urban metropolis of Mohnton, over some more creeks then up a hill to the next beer stop. Dances assured us, again, that we were NOT going to his house, so naturally, the hashers went directly to the HHH at Dances house. Just Brandon, one of our 5 sacrificial virgins, was FRB; Bad Semen was DFL, and all in all it was a shitty trail.
Submited by Fucking Deadwood


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Hash Trash #885 Poppin' Cherries with Wood, 8/10/15 submitted by Dances with Whores
Hares: Just Tom, Just Diane and NFB



It was a dark and stormy night (at least it was according to NFB, but actually it was quite pleasant), and 27 or so half minds gathered at a quaint residence somewhere near Oley along with 3 or so virgins who weren't quite sure what it was they had gotten themselves into. There were so many Just Somebodies at the circle that we were wondering what the hell was happening. The virgins were called into circle, Just Adrianna with a deer in the headlights look, Just Darien who readily admitted that Jungle Blow (his mom) made him Cum, and Just Chris, who had no redeeming qualities at all.




The hares, Just Tom, Just Diane and NFB explained the trail to the virgins and the pack (well, NFB did most of the explainin), and off we went in search of trail. Marks were found, and up the hill we went, until Fudgepacker saw what he thought was an F on the side of a tree indicating false trail. Back down the hill we all go, until NFB convinced us that it wasn't an F, that was just the way the flour clung to the tree. So back up the hill we went, following flour happily until the pack came to a check in the woods behind one of the neighbors houses. After a bit of searching, trail was once again located, and off we went. The hares had plenty of fun shiggy in store for us, even going over an old compost pile which had the most glorious smell. More trail and checks, and eventually we came to a check where trail went up the hill, but half the pack stayed down, finding more flour and started running
no-no. We eventually got back on track and followed trail along a power line and finding NFB at a road crossing with a shot stop.

After a brief repast, off the pack went again, eventually finding the creek. Trail went in and out of the creek, washing off most of that rancid compost (thank G, we probably did not want to smell that during circle), and eventaully ending up at a small park along the creek, where the hares had assembled with fine beer and a gourmet meal for the pack.

Circle ensued, where accusations were made, down-downs were consumed and virgins were violated. Then the fun started, as the good beer emerged from Bones and others vehicles. A good time was had by all ( well most, some of those virgins may be scarred for life).

On-On,
Dances


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Hash Trash #884 Tall Grass and Nice Ass, 8/3/15, submitted by Hot Lips
Hares: Just Tom and Just Donna
27 Hounds including 3 Virgins showed up for an interesting Hash hared by Virgin Hares Just Tom and Just Donna under the tutelage of ToeFU.
Let’s just start by saying that anything involving ToeFU could have potential side effects.  Examples to follow.
We met behind the BBQ Pit in Sinking Spring.  Circle was called by ToeFu because our Grand Master was missing…….again!  Miss you, Fudgie!  Instructions were given to the 2 present Virgins.  One with obvious technology strapped to her arm.  She claimed to be an On Call Brain Surgeon.  Very suspect, Just Jordan!
The OnOn was given and off we went running through a gopher-hole ridden field. (Example #1:  Just Bobby sprained an ankle) We head straight out and all of a sudden the trail is gone.  Here there was a 90’ turn without a check.   Bad Hares!  We were then led through a construction site for new homes and then came to a check which led through very tall grass, bushes, thorns, and a creek.  Classic Shiggy.    
So we end up in a field of tall grass and bushes and this is where we found out that there is a Flour Shortage in Berks County, for the Hares laid trail with GREEN ribbon tape on GREEN bushes.  Genius!
The field turned into a swamp. (Example #2:  We now all have Trench Foot)
 I really think things must be slow in ToeFU’s office because he seems to be drumming up business at the Hash’s.  ie. Flamer!
The swamp turned into Shiggy that was so dense, I was having Flashbacks to Vietnam or Korea.  What’s my name again?  Yeah, Korea!  The trail finally leads to civilization and a SN at Just Tom and Just Donna’s house.  Mimosa’s all around.  
Now about 10 minutes after we started following trail, a lone virgin showed up.  Just Chad.  Now any seasoned Hasher knows if you show up and everyone is gone, you just go to the local drinking establishment and drink and wait for the Wankers to arrive.  Not this Virgin.  He followed trail and found us at the SN. Possible name for this virgin?  Hound Dog or Dumb Ass!
The trail then ended up being a maze through that development with quite a few mis-directions and back to the Shiggy for a BN.  Prior to the BN, Just Greg (who must have known the terrain yelled  “I’m taking the road” so those of us who had enough of the dreaded Shiggy followed him, much to the chagrin of the Hares.  At the BN we find Just Dale standing near a Boob Check.  He was sorely disappointed because the Harriet’s blew it off and took off chasing trail again.
We ended up in a park with a pavilion where a party was being held.  And we were approached by an elderly man.  Flashback to a previous encounter with civilians…..  (Example #3: Yelling civilian), but alas, this guy was just asking if we were Hashers. After confirming that we were, OnOn we went and if you have learned anything during this Trash it’s that there was no end to the Shiggy. 
We all emerge at the top of a shaggy filled hill at an outhouse and the end of the trail.  FRB  Mr Bluster and DFL girls Just Melanie and Just Amy did their DownDowns.  Glad He Ate Her and Just Tab were called out for breaking a cardinal sin of Hashing of running up a hill.  Just Jordan ( our Brain Surgeon) was called out for Technology on Trail, but because she claimed to be On Call and we really don’t need any more brain damaged people, we made the wanker who made her come do the DownDown.  All the songs were sung and we retired to the BBQ Pit for the Après. 
FYI to ToeFU’s office staff:  Keep a few open appointments because we will fill them up needing cures for the Trench Foot. 
Thanks for the Shitty Trail
ONON
Hot Lips

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HASH TRASH #881 4th of July Hash, 7/4/15, Submitted by ToeFu.. b/c no one else would do it



I think 6 mo. Is the limit on waiting for hash trash, so I jotted down some thoughts from my perspective...ToeFu

It was a dark and stormy night as our intrepid hares (Flamer, Foot Fairy, Decoy and yours truly) gathered at the fire tower far above the sleeping populace of Reading. One by one, kennel members and visitors alike arrived to partake in one of the pivotal hashes of the year. Our GM, Fudgepacker, was suspiciously absent....no doubt off on some other chocolate-related endeavor. Decoitus Interruptous (I think) led the initial circle and introductions were made. And with that, the game was afoot!

Flour was found descending down the steep front side of Mt. Penn and our hashers scratched and scrambled downward. Stupid Brother opted for the Stop, Drop and Roll technique, resulting in an ankle roughly the size of a grapefruit. Trail slashed across City Park and continued across Perkiomen Ave. Gratefully, the early hour kept civilian interaction to a minimum, thereby limiting hasher fatalities.

Trail continued thru the "Boneyard" and up the backside (or ass, if you will) of Neversink Mt. Unbeknownst to the FRBs, FF and I had only just provisioned the first BN and had to bolt back down the trail and slip off into the greenery to avoid being caught. That BN, in addition to providing much needed hydration and an excellent view of the sand pit quarry, was thoughtfully provisioned with a pile of bottle rockets to celebrate our nation's independence. Sadly, I am told, the light failed to perform. (And who hasn't, from time to time..)

Cresting Neversink, our hashers began the slippery descent. Trail emerged onto an access road near the radio tower, only to reinsert itself down a steep treed bank. This was the infamous site of a rather unfriendly nest of yellow jackets, encountered days before when laying trail. (The sight of Decoy scrambling down the hillside, flinging handfuls of flour in the air in a vain attempt to confuse their little bee radars will forever bring a smile to my face)

Trail finally reached the banks of the mighty Schuylkill, which was brimming from days of heavy rains. The hares had thoughtfully routed thru a lush patch of burn hazel, bringing a stinging sensation that would usually send us dashing to find a free clinic. Crossing over the river on the Thun Trail, the hash ended on the dirt road below Brentwood Industries. The actual HHH was "The Rock". Days before, Flamer et al had thoughtfully chiseled and epoxied an eyebolt into the familiar landmark to facilitate attachment of ropes, thus reducing the odds of dead hashers floating past Pottstown.

Hashers arrived in small tattered groups, many having encountered yellow jackets, burn hazel or the other varied shiggy of the trail. An sandal-shod Asian hasher from the Lehigh kennel arrived, thoughtfully carrying the BN....only to be informed by Foot Fairy that we "already had our token Asian" for the hash. I presume he eventually understood we were only joking as our vehicles didn't burst into flames as we left the lot.

I believe the truly lasting moment of this hash for everyone will be the horrifying realization that the ONLY beer available was Sly Fox Xmas Ale circa 2014. This was undoubtedly the most reviled beverage ever to grace a hash.

Circle was held, songs sung and hashers staggered home, most hoping for a quick nap before family holiday festivities ensued.

Any departure from fact in the above is solely due my failing memory and fondness for drink....

ToeFU
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Hash #878, Punch your Ticket Hash, 6/1/15
Submitted by Tidy Bowl

It was a cold and rainy night. Well, at least it was rainy and it turned into night.  25 half minds with the help of GPS's found their way to Lorraine Elementary in Exeter Township.   Since this was to be an A to B trail drop bags were collected along with our minimal participation fee.   At 6:15 our hare, Toe Fu, gathered us around and gave us the much anticipated On On instructions.  He so eloquently described his markings while we were guzzling some very fine On On beverages, better than the average stuff.  After all of the hashers were educated the On On sounded.

Here is how the trail went:

- ON ON

- From parking lot across elementary school's grass field

- Across the creek and up a hill

- Through the high school field's and into the woods

- Some of us went  up the steep hill and into the woods

- Back down and across the creek, down the grass lane to the shot check

- From the shot check, crossed over Shelbourne Rd, up to "Do Not Enter"  lane

- The "Do Not Enter" lane went to a beer check

- Through neighborhood streets

- Up between 2 houses and back into the woods

- Up hill into Toe Fu's backyard

- On In

- All this in about 5 miles

It had the usual shiggy and it had a wonderful creek to splash around in.  The trail took us through a lot of private property.  At the shot check many shots were shared while waiting for the pack to regroup.  Bluster, Frank Burns, and others met the two most outgoing, generous, well spoken, accommodating, friendly, will do anything for you type guys that owned the property on either side of the "Do Not Enter " Right of way.  As they were welcoming the pack to their compound, it appeared that their main concern was what if their dogs bit someone.  We certainly did not want one of their dogs to get sick.  Also the week earlier some other hashing A-holes wandered up that way.  The owners had had enough.  The friendly banter slowly degraded and it was evident that Frank Burns was not their biggest fan.  With hugs and kisses shared by all, the hash moved on to the end of the public right away to the beer check.     More wonderful beverages to be had, unlike the 4th of July hash. 

After the beer check, the trail went through the neighborhood eventually up between two houses past the coolest back yard ever.  The apre should have been here!  Through a bit more shiggy and to the On In at Toe Fu's crib…WOW!

As the burgers and the other fixings were being served , the most wonderful apre beers were being poured.  Hashers were in the pool and hiding under the roof from the rain.  The circle was formed.  All the usual B.S. .  Non returner   Bob Barker was called out and there was a naming.  The hash's heavenly brewer of the most wonderful beer, Just Paul, became Father Ferment Me.  The festivities continued and ended up in the elaborate bar area of Toe Fu's basement.  In a top secret room, an orgasmic massage chair,  a piece of furniture that all hashers should have , and an inverted table were discovered.  Many orgasms were had, just ask Fudgy , ACDC, Little Man, and a few other lucky hashers.  As the night grew old and the beer disappeared, the crowd thinned and soon all were gone.

                     SHITTY HASH!
 

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HASH TRASH # 877 Nudum Pactum, 5/17/15, Submitted by In U End O
Hares: Legal Easy and Just Ryan
The Pack: Inuendo, Horn of Plenty, Bad Semen, Foot Fairy, Just Tom, Just Paul, ToeFu, Rumspringer, Guiji Yakuza, and two Virgins, Just Michelle and Just Brooke.
With much Type A activity going on this past weekend, only the truest of true hashers came out to play!! We even had virgins in our mix! Just Michelle and Just Brooke joined us on this balmy, warm Sunday afternoon. It was so hot in fact that Just Michelle made a grand announcement that she gets overheated easily. She further went on to comment that since she was new to the hash and thus a “virgin”, she must be an “overheated virgin” joining the hash…. Ummm… anyone else think that she just named herself??? Mind you in the first 5 minutes!!!! Fudgepacker… get your fuckin ass back here and do something about this!!
Just Michelle’s comments didn’t end there…. She was funnier than a nun in a dildo shop. Stay tuned for more “phrases to cum.”
I believe it is definitely worth noting that the fucking hares were no where to be seen at the start. No hares… Bullshit! No beer.. Major bullshit!! And late!!! Unacceptable!!
Just Ryan showed up first. Sweet faced innocent Ryan. “Our refrigerator shelf with all the beer broke and beer went everywhere,” he said.
To which we replied, “So…. And where is the beer now?”
Mind you, it is now after 2pm. One hare missing and no beer.
Just Ryan: “Well, Beth has the beer but she had to finish the trail.”
Thirsty Runners look at him like Archie Bunker without a beer in his hand… “Hanh?” And if you are too young to remember Archie Bunker, stay home and chew your bubble gum. You don’t belong here.
Apparently Legal Easy was in fact suppose to have the beer, but once she finally arrives, she remembered she forgot it!! Then she asks, “should I get it?”
Horn of Plenty: “Uh, YAH”
Meanwhile, it’s 2:10, no beer, no circle and out of the blue Gaijin Yakuza shows up. Better late than never. Except no one can remember this dudes name so we call him Bang Cock today, even though we never really saw the guy.
Just Ryan leaves to retrieve beer while Legal Easy explains the markings to the virgins with very articulate language and especially good flour penmanship. Ryan returns, circle up with Bad’s influence. Rumspringer shows up, literally 20 minutes late and YES, we are still in circle!!!
It’s an a to b with a dry bag. $7 hash cash.
We are finally on. And I wish I could end here but there are 9 more fucking miles in this Hash!! And the hares give us no direction. Nice.
Fortunately, first flour if found in the cemetery. We all stay together like a wedding congo line until our first check. On-on is heard as we traverse up a private drive with literally “no trespassing” signs everywhere. Horn and Foot Fairy waltz through like a fast pass at Disney. But no one escapes unscathed. A very angry guy with a 2 by 4 wedged up his ass stands by the lane yelling that we are on his land. Honestly we didn’t see a gun or a dog frothing at the mouth, so everyone else kept going too. Just Paul tries to appease with nicities and apologies. We find out later that he’s some really nice dude that Legal Easy bribed to harass us.
Interesting use of your legal skills, L.E.!
Already, the group has spread out. Bad stayed low on the road. BangCock and Rumspringer actually did what hashers are suppose to do… walk the uphill’s, but the checks evened things out at least for the first few miles. We are quickly led to a beautiful muddy, sneaker sucking bushwack section leading right into a creek, or crick if your from Berks County.
Just Michelle decided to choose today to break in her new sneakers. So pretty to so dirty so quickly! She didn’t seem to mind and in fact, at one point during the Hash she remarked she was having so much fun, she could just do a cartwheel... and she did. I’m pretty sure that may have been a Hash first.
Another check, another no trespassing, go away, do not enter, alleyway. Inuendo is sure there is a dog or pinched faced madman at the end. Horn of Plenty forges on like who gives a fuck and fortunately it pays off… BN is near!
We end up at Musso’s. The hares have reserved a nice little table with cold pitchers ready. The only one who didn’t make it was Bad. Just Michelle clenches her beer and states she’s not a beer drinker, but to enjoy the whole experience “she will try.”
Horn asks: “You don’t like beer?”
Just Michelle: “No, I didn’t go to college. I never got a taste for it.”
Horn: (Laughing) “You didn’t get a taste for college or beer?”
Just Michelle: “Beer, but I’m not a quitter, I’ll try to like it.”
And the hares kick us out giving us at least a little direction. Horn of Plenty and Foot Fairy think they know a better way and split away from the pack and soon there were 6. For a good part of the next 5 miles, Inuendo, Just Tom, ToFu, Just Paul, Just Michelle and Just Brooke stayed together. No sign of Bad, Rumspringer or BangCock.
Too many checks, too many uphill falses… damn bastards! The group of 6 did find the Shot Check. Refreshing Kama kazis. We waited for the back of the packers who never showed. Contemplated taking the refreshments with us, but didn’t. It’s okay… at the next check, Just Paul and Just Michelle (who happened to REALLY enjoy liquor over beer, went BACK to the shot check claiming they were “checking… still checking..” One more for the road!
We followed flour through streams, up hills, through the woods, through picnics and playgrounds and finally into the woods for a hefty uphill climb… perfect after thinking we were going down… double climbing for some. SUCKED! We are all beginning to smell like ripened trash and we are thirsty again!
Somewhere in the rocky hills the 6 became 3. Just Tom, Just Michelle and Inuendo follow the BN calls of Horn of Plenty below and make it to the last beer stop. Legal Easy, Foot Fairy and Horn of Plenty were the only ones there and they had been there for 45 minutes! They swear they ran trail only missing the section with the shot check, WHICH WAS A LOT OF TRAIL!
Finally Just Brooke, ToFu and Just Paul made it down.
The rest of the trail was on roads with 2 things certain, we were headed to Foot Fairy’s or Liberty Tap Room. Our insticts took us to Liberty with a huge F for “You’re fucked…keep running bastards!” Brooke quickly found the right trail and led us on in though having been warned did not cross the HHH first.
HHH was at the Hares friends house (thanks Matt and Colleen) close to Liberty. ToFu crossed the HHH first and took one for the team. Bad was already there however so he would ultimately get FRB! Rumspringer and BangCock made it back too… later..lol!
Circle was short because the trail was so fucking long! Wants in Bad and Conchyafuckin car hashed. Lots of type A on trail and in circle… running up hills, technology on trail, pointing, headgear in circle. No anniversaries or birthdays except it would have been the 23 anniversary of Wants it Bads 1st marriage and she drank for it. Announcements: Bike Hash to be rescheduled? Foot Fairy will send out announcements of next hash soon. Closed circle with song.
May the HASH go in peace. May the HASH get a piece.
Thanks Legal Easy and Just Ryan for a shitty trail! If circle were longer you WOULD have had to drink for not having beer at the beginning AND WE STARTED LATE!! You got lucky.
Fudgepacker, everyone is looking for some good Hashing stories when you return as it’s obvious you weren’t there working!
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Hash #876, Reading Red Dress Run, 5/9/15


Saturday, 5/9, saw the return of the Red Dress Hash, #876 on the RH3 hit parade. The McDonald’s lot at the corner of Penn Ave. and Park Rd. was the gathering point for an ragged assortment of rubied divas, ranging from elegant to downright slutty. Satin, lace, spangles and tropical couture abounded. Just Dale appeared in what could only have been a tablecloth from a luau for 12. GM pro tem Decoy, looking simply stunning in a solid red frock, accented by gold off center buttons and black fishnets, called circle and introduced our hares, Sacko and Tuna. These harried hares from bygone days reviewed trail markings for the benefit of the new and inattentive. We had several virgins present, one of whom sported  chiseled  6 pack abs,  dinner plate pecs and a propensity to wear his pink, not red, dress from the waist down only. For a change, it was our harriettes who suffered from whiplash…

And with that….ON-ON! We meandered thru the well-to-do streets of West Reading, eventually stumbling onto the campus of Reading Hospital. Finding sprinklers in action, Ducky skittered down the central grassy strip, cooling himself in the process and placing him in contention for the wet dress contest. We eventually found our way across the Penn St. Bridge, but only after Foot Fairy and Vera Wangless relieved themselves under the Reading Hospital billboard. Back behind RACC we went, gratefully finding a BN a block later. Much to our surprise, Just Dale, still sporting his Moo-Moo, and the rest of his auto hashing crew were already there….hmmm.

Thirsts quenched for the moment, we headed back past Penn St., thru neighborhoods I haven't visited before or since, and back across the Buttonwood St. Bridge, all to the innocent calls of local Hispanic youth yelling  “Look... gay white peoples!!”

Skirting several industrial-looking buildings, we found our HHH and the ensuing après. Here, our hares talent truly shown, with cases of excellent single and double IPAs, as well as a keg of Pottsville’s finest for more pedestrian palates. Pizzas were piled high.

Circle was held, again under the instructions of the smartly coutured Decoy. Down downs were awarded as deserved. Spirits remained high, despite a roll-by by Wyomissing PoPo. Circle ended with our traditional “Swing Low”.

And then, the true purpose of the Red Dress…the charity auction. That was where Sacko Shit’s true genius was revealed. Personally, I walked away with $65 in auction merchandise, without ever raising my hand! Evidently, all you had to do to bid was attend?!

In the end, many beers were drunk….and many hashers, the same. We departed with the knowing contentment of having done a good thing for a good cause.

Respectfully (if, under duress) submitted,

ToeFU
 


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Hash # 875 es solo un hash. Party like a Mexican 5/4/15, submitted by Hot Lips
Hares: Just Tom and Just Paul
Pack: Frank Burns, Hot Lips, Just Tony, Bones, Toe FU, Foot Fairy, Little Big Dick, Dances with Whores,Cums on Demand, Mr Bluster, Finger Fucker, Horn of Plenty and our lone Virgin....... Just Justin. Vera Wangless showed her pretty little Yoga Pant covered ass before running off to do Yoga and Flammer made an appearance wearing his boot. (really, I think they only came for the Mexican Beer and Music supplied by the Hares. 
We were short one Grand Master because he deserted us for Hong Kong so Horn Of Plenty stepped in to fill the spot vacated by Fudgy.  Miss ya, Man.  We circled late because someone arrived at 6:15 (HOP). Just Paul supplied homemade Tick Spludge (sic) for all of us because it appears that Just Tom collected quite a few while laying trail.
Instructions were given and just Tom took off to finish laying the semi-live trail. We finally took off close to 6:30. 
We headed up a steep trail on Neversink .Following flour trail would have let us across a creek, but the silly Hares put it right beside a wooden bridge so most of us said "Screw That! Don't want wet feet yet!" And then the trail went up some more.  Eventually we found ourselves at the Witches Hat for a BN.  We were joined by Turtle Head who saw flour and heard On On being yelled while driving home from work. 
From the Witches Hat we got a beautiful view of the city of Reading which Dances decided to moon.  Yea, It seems that the only way to see Reading looking that good is from high up and after a beer and then comparing it to Dances Ass.  
From there the trail headed down over rocky trail leading to the 2nd BN. The flour trail then seemed to head off a cliff.  Again a huge "Screw That" from the pack.  We know a False Trail when we see one! Then did I mention that the trail went up?  
But Finally the HHH was in site .  Mr Bluster was the FRB stilled wrapped like a Mummy. Who knew a Mummy could run that fast?  They look so slow on those late night black and white movies. Since neither Dances or myself wanted to be DFL alone, we skipped across the HHH together, arm in arm. 
We were greeted by Frozen Margarita's so cold they would have given a penguin brain freeze and Hot Dogs on a grill with Mexican music playing in the background.  
Great Trail Just Tom and Just Paul.  On On
Submitted by Hot Lips!


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Hash #874 ,Foot Fairy and Bushwhackers' Excellent Adventure, 4/27/15, submitted by OMH
Hares: ummm Foot Fairy and Bushwhacker...
Pack: About 20
and what an adventure it was.  Someone mentioned flat and easy.  Well, easy is a given, but maybe not flat.  We started the corruption early, as we circled within eyeshot of a field of little leaguers and their suspicious parents.  The hares felt sorry for Bluster with his gimp arm, so they decided to handicap a few more souls in solidarity…duct tape, bad beer, jostled from the run…could get interesting.  Freedom would be given by Bushwacker if the beers were emptied.  We started off, and all the little league parents probably breathed a sigh of relief.  No sooner did we start, and we hit the first climb. Illusions of FF up the hill were false; it was a bunch of kids on bikes, no beer to be had.  More climbing and dumpster diving- AC/DC made off with an almost new cable box, and later in our travels also scores some sweet anal beads perfectly proportioned for a pachederm…we all shared some shots and continued with the relentless hills- until we were met with a boob check.  Ugh, somebody had to do it, so I blinded the stragglers with my saggy mom boobs and we continued on.  More rocks, more hills, and then we hit a nice downhill- finally!!  Got the the BN, but no beer?!  Bushwacker was fashionably late with beer and shots, and we continued onward, somehow totally missing an entire section of marked trail.  Back past the start, and the little league game was over.  Bushwacker’s house was the destination. All our gimps made it the entire hash with beers attached.  We circled up for a plethora of accusations that lasted forever while our pizza got cold. Glad He Ate Her finally got his hand back after circle. Shitty trail but an strange adventure for sure.  Next time there definitely needs to be more hills!!!
Submitted by One More Hole

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Hash #873 Mud, Sweat, and Beers! 4/19/15
Hares: Fudgepacker and F*cking Deadwood
Pack: Caughtchaf*ckin, Wants it Bad, Just Barb (cherry in tact),Just Paul,
Bones, Vera Wangless, Optopussy , Phone Erection,Dances with Whores, Just Beth (w/cherry), Just Angie (fully hymenated), Real Boy, In-U-Endo, Little Man in the Boat,
Tidy Bowl, Bushwhacker, Scrotus Maximus, ToeFu, Just Tom, Horn O Plenty, Bad Semen, Cozy Crotch, Justine the Fawn F*cker, Foot Fairy, Little Big Dick, Cums When
She Pleases, Just John, Just Cheryl, Stupid Brother, Mr. Bluster, Cums on Demand, Gaijin Yakuza. Wow! That’s a shit load of half-minds right there!
I love the Sea…. Has nothing to do with the Hash, but who doesn’t need a little Hemingway now and then? I’ll have some of that!
Seriously, Spring was in the air, along with Pollen and a lot organic gaseous emissions from such a large herd, er pack. We assembled in a remote spot which was the scene of some kinda type A shit our Hares from the previous day had organized. They were busy little pricks this weekend weren’t they? Pre-lubes were consumed, pleasantries sexchanged and the Hares circled us up. Intros made, Virgins were sacrificed, which I must give FudgePacker many kudos. Since the onset of his reign of terror, the GM has assembled more Virgins than a Jihadist’s wet dream! I especially liked how Fudgy got the novices to share their sexual exploits and favorite power tools of love! Schwing!
Fudge gibbered some shit about trail markings and pre-existing ones that should be ignored to the total confusion of all. Whatever, always comes down to 2 choices follow the trail or wander off with Stupid Brother, who no matter where trail is has some f*cking relative who lives right over the next hill. The Hare left carefully making sure all the bimbos checked out his ass and flicked his locks several thousand times to their, I mean his delight. The pack was off, undulating down, up, left and right with many checks and falses. Basically, slogging about 1 mile to get 100 yds from the start. Eventually, squeals of delight were heard over the next ridge. Were some alternative lifestylers doing the Ned Beatty in woods? No, Nectar! The BN was discovered in the ruins of a wine cellar relic from the middle ages. After a well deserved repast, the Hare was off again. Down the hill all ambled only to find a false in the valley! Bastards! The Hares pulled the old switcheroo. Deadwood deviously passed the baton to Fudge and he lumbered off in the opposite direction. After much searching pancake batter was again spotted. Up and down we went, trailing much shiggy and gnarlieness to the next BN!
The BN was in the ruins of what may have been a brothel for stonemasons back in Reading’s infancy. I don’t know what gave me more joy, the nearness of nectar or ancient ruins to climb upon? While beer was being swilled, an opportunity was had to channel my inner DeathWish (my boyhood idol). Being so taken by the awesomeness of potentially getting tetnus, my heart was filled with melody and broke into a most excellent if I say so myself rendition of “God Bless My Underpants”. I feel it is important to educate the Virgins with song and dangerousness. Safety Third!
The pack drank up and attempted to get as far away from me as possible and headed On In.
Circle Time, yay! The bestest of all times! FRBs were punished, analversaries and birth analversaries were acknowledged, accusations, and a six pack was saved for our DFL who was MIA. Guy Jing Yakuza was nowhere to be found. I’m not well versed in the language of those Pearl Harbor bombing M’Fers but, am pretty sure the name translates roughly to “he who could not find his way out of a f*cking broom closet”.
Optopussy noticed Real Boy was already moist from earlier type A exertion and was made to pay for racist activities.
Also, of note NFB rolled up from his hiding place just as circle started and was the sole auto haser. Best trail treasure: Just John for finding an unspent anti-deer missile left over from last fall's meat wars! Worst idea: giving said pointy projectile to our inebriated leader in circle, who then tried to pierce his own sack and the sacks of others while paying for crimes. Just when all looked darkest, at the close of circle, who should appear but Yakuza in the flesh. We were all relieved to see him, not because we cared, but I can vouch for the Hash by saying, I for one was not going looking for him.
The After was at The Cove of Pirates and there was much celebrating, telling of lies, ogling bimbos, consuming of nectar and various delectable finger foods. I think Bad’s t-shirt said it best. THIS HASH DID NOT SUCK!
Humbly submitted by yours truly, Justine the Fawn F*cker
On Can’t F*cking Can’t Wait for the Red Dress On!

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Hash #872, The Mystery Hare Hash, 4/12/15. Submitted by FudgePacker... b/c no one else did
Our mystery hare(s) Stupid Brother and Dumb and Dumber. a pack of about 20 came out for a beautiful day of road and trails.  Stupid Brother and super secret surprise hare D&D gather the pack at the Gouglersville Fire Co at 2pm and of we went. a few of us thought we knew what was going on but Noooooo, they pulled the old switcheroo on us.  down we went loosing elevation faster than virginity on prom night... then we went up (duh) to a familiar place for a few of us, the Gallen shooting range for a beverage or two.  Then it was back up and off to parts unknown... needless to say a few of us got lost (or did we?) and we ended up down at stupid brothers house, well about as far away from it as he could put us... i think a few of the hashers were smelling ripe.  Somehow In U End O showed up only to treat Foot Fairy to a lap dance... WTF dude? ACDC and I were off in the woods somewhere doing something... and eventually we caught the back of the pack and joined the rest of the gang at a storage barn near to our starting point.  Pizza and beer and an old dude with a ton of junk in his pick up... On On

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Hash #871: Phone Erections Phantasy Hash, 2 Girls and a Guy  3/28/15, submitted by Spore Whore
 

Hares:  Optopussy, Real Boy, Phone Erection

Hashers:  Mr. Bluster, Comes on Demand, NFB, Frank Burns, Hot Lips, Fudgepacker, In-u-endo,
Clam Pounder, Toe- Fu, Horn of Plenty, Just Paul, Spore Whore, Mr. Little Big, Dances with Whores,
 Just Tracy, Girlie, Bushwhacker, Just Lisa
                                   
        It was a cool, blustery, Spring?? afternoon for Hash #871.  Our hares met us in the parking lot at the intersection of Rte 724 and Rte 222, near the old Dempsey’s Restaurant.  As the pack was assembling, someone pointed out the “No Parking, Violators Will Be Towed “sign.  Surprisingly, most of the hashers used some common sense (it was still early) and decided to move their cars to the soccer field parking lot, so as to avoid any trouble finding a ride home later that day.
        Trail markings were explained at the start.  In addition to the typical BN, X, and F there was a new hieroglyphic introduced without any explanation – “DSS”.  The pack was then off towards the Highlands, Wyomissing Park and Shillington until the first beer check was found.  The majority of the pack still intact.  A cold brew was enjoyed on the back porch at the abode of Phone Erection.  And the pack was off and running again.  Through the alleys of Shillington, passing by schools, and the Army Reserve Center and into a shopping center where we found the “DSS”. 
        This part of the hash was then explained to us.  DS stands for Dollar Store Shot check.  You know the place where everything costs a dollar and the place where I got all of the plates, glasses, and silverware for my house.  We were given our shot and then all of the hashers were given $1.06.  We were instructed to go into the store and buy an item for Phone Erection that he could use in his fantasy (you remember his fantasy – 2 Girls and a Guy).  We were to bring the items with us and present them to Phone Erection at the après.
        From the store, the trail continued on thru Shillington Park to beer check #2.  From here we proceeded back into the park and we found our way to the HHH and après at Jimi’s Thing (previously Champions, previously something else).  We circled up in the parking lot for what may have been the quickest circle in history.  No accusations, no anniversaries and our Grandmaster led us in Swing Low at warp speed.
        We reassembled back inside Jimi’s for some food and beer and to try and warm up.  Dollar Store gifts were then presented to Phone Erection.  Hashers are a creative group, getting everything from warming gel, lube, a magnifying glass, pregnancy test kit, energy pills to Windex.   There were many others that I can’t recall right now, but the top prize went to a fluorescent yellow, 5 foot swimming noodle.  I am still not sure how this item would be used in the fantasy, but Phone Erection said he enjoyed watching this hasher running through the park and through Shillington carrying this item around.

On-on

Spore Whore

Upcumming hashes:

            Sunday  4/12/15 –  Mystery Hare

            Sunday  4/19/15 -   Deadwood, Fudgepacker  haring

**See Reading Hash Calendar for more details




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Hash #870: It's About Time Hash, 3/15/15, submitted by Toe FU



Sunday saw the arrival of Hash # 870 "It's About Time", better known as "Resurrection of the Fossils". And who were these relics, you ask? Who the Fuck knows?! First it was to be the Brothers Stupid and Swamp. Then the Brothers couldn't "rise to the occasion" and Scrotus Maximus was lending a....hand. But wait...Stupid  Brother was at the On-On. WTF?? My head was spinning before my first shitty hash beer.

Circle commenced with Fudgepacker welcoming our harriers (too many to list, lets just say there was a shit load of folks out to enjoy the day). We also had present an unusually pathetic group of virgins, many not even wearing sneakers! What are we....fucking lumberjacks?! Lose the Wolverines and step into a pair of Hokas, wankers! Hashes are to be run, not hiked. Our prehistoric hares were introduced, trail markings reviewed and On-On we went.

Skipping gaily...did I just say that??....through the opulent neighborhoods of Wyomissing, we went. Past homes of the rich and flatulent. A false here...muddy slush there...we made our way out along Rt. 222. We were cautioned by our hares to stay near the woods and not go out on the highway. Did anyone besides me think that was unnecessary advice?? The trail dropped down into an icy creek..or open sewer...I didn't stop to check. Then under the highway thru a lovely water-filled drainage pipe and out the other side. But wait...is that a cowgirl on her steed? Nooooo...it's Just Deb astride Ducky because she didn't want to get wet. Really? We're supposed to stay dry? I've been doing it all wrong!

Anyway, on the other side of the highway was a steep, snow covered bank and a razor sharp fence at the bottom...as my ass can attest to. Just Dale made a particularly graceful decent, reminiscent of a brontosaurus on a luge track. A bevy of snowballs rewarded his arrival as he lumbered up the hill to our first BN, graciously hosted by Swamp's brother Todd. His deck, perched precariously over the 50' crevice, held an impressive amount of sweaty Hashers...sucking down beers as they enjoyed his fire ring and his barking, crotch-sniffing dog. 

Then, off again, wending our way thru West Lawn and arriving at another class establishment, Victor's Cafe. The locals appeared none to impressed at our arrival as 2 smokeeaters struggled to keep up with the clouds of noxious fumes. Having maxed out on light beer and 100+ carcinogens, we stumbled out and onto the railroad tracks in back for a less than comfy run on the rocks of pain lining the rail bed. Up and over the pedestrian walkway (was it really necessary to put checks at every turn? Where the fuck could we go??) Back onto the tracks we went, much to the chagrin of Wyomissing's Finest. Officers Toody and Muldoon chastised us over the PA system of their cruiser as we scaled the backside (ass?) of Granite Pointe. We looped around the building twice before grasping the concept "what goes up must come down". Down onto State Hill Road we went, then finally, mercifully, to the HHH and the après at Giannotti's.(GM note: I heard Flamer went down in flames... he's broken, literally)

Beer flowed, tales were told and we had a naming! For her distain of things wet, Just Deb will heretofore be known as Likes It Dry. Complaints from the dining room required many songs to be sung in hush, but we persevered. Properly fed and quenched, we were unceremoniously stuffed into the back Tidy's van, like migrant workers on a budget. He'd been so kind as to leave a disassembled kennel in the back, so we arrived at the On-On sporting severe Belgian waffle ass! Likes It Dry was still clenching her après beer. (She's working on a set)

By this point, our intrepid hares were likely well past their warm milk and fuzzy jammies bedtime. Well done, Fossils, well done!

Submitted with all due respect,

ToeFU
 


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Hash #869: Get your Tip out of my Clam, 3/14/15, submitted by Just Tom

FOOT FAIRY, NFB, WHORE DE CULTURE, CAUGHT YOU FUCK'n, WANTS IT BAD, FUDGE PACKER, IN U ENDO, HOT LIPS, FRANK BURNS, TOEFU, CLAM POUNDER, JUST THE TIP and JUST TOM represented the Reading Hash Harriers as they kicked off their 869th hash in the rain soaked, sometimes snow covered landscape of Hamburg, PA on Saturday March 14th.  69 is fitting for this challenging marked trail.  Just to excite the squeamish, Included in the marks was a dead mouse dipped in colored chalk.  From this location our fleet-footed Harriers split into two groups.  One went for a nature dash through the woods while the other ended up on road leading them to our first beer stop.  The VFW of Hamburg where we all met only to be turned away due lack of membership.  AWE SHIT!  Could'a used a beer then.  Not to be daunted by these turn of events Harrier NFB surprised us all by following trail!  We all had to turn around and take his lead since we all would not follow him.  After enduring "Are You On?" for miles through the factory district of town we all with great relief and in need to relieve ourselves, arrived at Westy's Bar and Grill.  The patrons had an amusing sight when they observed our group's wet and muddy condition.  Beer for all was well deserved and greatly appreciated.  We all played a game of Truth or Are You Just Full of Shit while we waited for more trail to be laid.  Body parts became the subject of one round of our game.  Real or fake?  Ah But What Nice Body Parts They Are.  Out the door with a flash we ran leaving behind the coveted DR. COMFORT HAT belonging to Toefu.  All but OUR FEARLESS LEADER, Fudge Packer and our seasoned harrier NFB, missed the trail allowing for an early return to our point of origin Jake's Place.  Warm dry clothes were exchanged for our sopping drags.  Beer and a shot, a Rocky Mountain Mother Fucker added to the merriment as we waited for the Fudge Packer and NFB to return.  We all circled up for ceremonial songs and accusations.  THIS TRAIL SUCKED!!! Topped the list.   But, our sincere appreciation goes to our Hashers, Clam Pounder and Just The Tip.  Our fellow harriers Frank Burns and Hot Lips invited us all to regroup at their home.  Fudge Packer, In U Endo, Toefu, Clam Pounder, Just The Tip and Just Tom were all in attendance for beer, munchies and a grueling game of CARDS AGAINST HUMANITY - a game not for the touchy.  The person who won the round got to take a shot of Fireball.  YUM!!!  Hot Lips attained CHAMPION status through her cutthroat play.  Thus finishing the game and the bottle.   A great time had by all and a special thank you to our hosts.

On-On


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Hash 868: March in my Loins Hash, 3/1/15, submitted by Vera Wangless

We started the PreLube at Island Pizza on a Snowy Sunday afternoon; we drank fine craft beers and waited for the Witching Hour of 2:00.
We carpooled to the start, a bit treacherous but we all managed to get our Fannies to the start. Upon arrival AC/DC informed us that due to the new falling snow, there were two trails- this would get interesting. It would be a LIVE trail, what FUN!
After a 5 minute start, I believe our 5 minutes was 1.5...we sauntered out into the park, following footprints, how convenient. The Hare decided to use Red flour, and yes he had very little. WE followed trail for about ½ mile through some shaggy to our first Beer Stop. Spotting red flour below us we all made our own trails down to the road, yelling Bad “haven’t you heard the great words of Robert Frost – a Road less traveled, blah, blah, blah… We were given a few tiny sleds at the start and what fun, there was sledding and falling to the bottom. As we ran another ½ mile down the road we found the Shot Near….Wow, one of the hares cleaned out their liquor cabinet and there was no lack of hooch, we even had some peppermint Hot Chocolate. Due to the weather, the trail was altered and so were we, we were sent up the hill back into the park and trying to follow tracks, we did rather well following flour until we hit a FU and decided to travel up and over a Mini Mountain. The view was spectacular but we had to go down the other side, it was icy and snowy. WE all decided to travel the mountain trail but Bones, he continued down around the Mountain. We all mad it back to the parking lot to find NO HHH. We missed the Hare, where could he be?????
Four of us decided to go find the Hare; we were worried, no not really just getting cold and hungry. They ran into AC/DC who was not pleased; we messed up and didn’t follow the trail he laid. We yanked his chain for a bit, decided to find the Après and get on with Circle. To my surprise the Après was not back at Island Pizza but to Diva’s, the Strip Club I have traveled past for years. I managed for 53 years to never enter such an establishment and now was heading to Debauchery…..
We all made our treachours drive to the Titty Bar; we were assigned a back room with its own Pole for Dancing, kind of a Mini Stage. Fudgie has us Circle up and the Shenanigans began…this is all I have to say, what happens at the Après stays at the Après!
Until next time……On On,


Vera
Hares: AC/DC and Just Lisa (Virgin Hare) not a Virgin anymore….
Yankers: Roughly 15 of us smucks

Location: Monocacy Park 

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Hash #867, The Tunnel of LUV/The Glory Hole Hash, 2/22/25 - submitted by just Robert

As we circled up in the parking lot, our hash began with Fudge Packer introducing our one and only virgin, just Tom. And who made him cum; Dead Ringer. Hey virgin, just Tom did you know they now make outside gear, such as Under Amour to comfortably run comfortably in when its 30 degrees outside? But jeans? Really? Our hosting hares, Dances with Whores and just Tony were very cleaver to trick the white snow today by dying our flour trail markings with blue and red overtones. As we left the ball field, the pack traversed the first mile toward "up-town" Mohnton. Upon cresting a hill at a check point, some of us veered slightly off course into a cul-de-sac. What we did not know was a human like creature guarding that part of the neighborhood with a snow shovel. He acted like a freshly adopted pit bull that had skipped out of puppy training school. His wing man, a fossil driving a John Deer lawn tractor equipped with a snow plow stormed toward us.  We had nicely asked "is there a hiking trail or park nearby ?". As his blood pressure rose to a very dangerous elevated level he shouts, "you are on private property can't you READ?". As we responded "not very well, hee hee, haw haw". All he really needed was a group hash hug.....

Back on course, as the route changed into a scenic wooded trail, we had our first beer near stop. With lots of snow balls flying, beer drinking and many laughs, we left the area scathed with patches of yellow melting snow. As we hashed on, the air temperature reached nearly 40 degrees! We crossed over an ice covered stream, some hares breaking thru to the water below, then fighting our way across a hill of briers (AKA - prick-ears) to our second stop of shots. With the bottle neatly tucked into the crotch of a tree (as we heard later) since WE missed it, we headed downhill to another stream crossing and up a slight hill to asphalt.

We headed back east in the direction of Mohnton Park. This ended up being a cluster fuck since the hares broke off into multiple directions with some of us off trail. That being said, damn it !!! the last beer stop was missed by part of the group. Cannot comment on their fun festivities, my EX-virgin ass was greatly missed at the Glory Hole.

We never did find any clear markings of HHH to end our travels, however our warm dry clothes were near and we proceeded to the previous week's watering hole, Jimi Things for beer, wings and quesadilla. As we sang chants and circled up, virgin just Tom was smiling ear to ear after his first chug of beer. Speaking of chugging....our waitress?, pool player? or the painted lady as some commented visited our tables with her two breast friends so we could get a better look at her T-shirt. As she chugged a beer, her two breast friends proudly displayed "Little cocks make me giggle". She was not referring to any of our male hashers, since all we had at that point and  time were SWEATY BALLS.

Some ventured to the Liberty Taproom for their dark beer tap take over which led to a very ugly Monday morning. Please excuse any typos and brevity, but embrace and cherish the nauty-ness
ON-ON !
Just Robert



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 Hash Trash #866.5 Wait... it's too cold piss up, Feb 15, 2015

The Hares recoiled as they stepped out to lay trail on Sunday morning, Outies became Innies in more ways than one.  Shivering from the prospect of things, the options were laid out and a "Piss Up" was decided as the smartest course of action (as if we ever do the smart thing).  So the hares posted and systems were updated to advise all the hashers to cum out and drink up.  Dances with Whores went to the On-On and waited for those that were technically challenged, or like many of us, those that avoid social media and smartphones over the weekend; to re-direct them to Jimi Things for downing of barley and hops in liquid form.  Just Tony, anxious to have his hare hymen popped, went to Jimi Things and welcomed the hashers as they arrived.  A good number of hashers made the trip out despite the cold and relaxed over several beverages. We had several non returners and even had a virgin show up, Just Tom I think it was...we hope he makes it back.  An old time hasher by the name of Dead Ringer (I think) sent him our way. Just Tom seemed abnormal enough so we invited him back for the real thing.  We got a few more hashers to sign up for haring so all in all, we had a good day. We held welcoming introductions and sort of sang "swing low".

The only thing missing from having me call this one as "Official and in the books" was: flour (it blew away and/or got covered by snow drifts), running (a few were willing) and circle.  Oh well,live and learn.  In attendance: Virgin Just Tom, Decoy, Flamer, Dirty Sanchez, High Maintenance, Caught ya Fuckin, Wants It Bad, Clam Poounder, Just the Tip, Toe-Fu, Stupid Brother, AC/DC, Just Paul, Foot Fairy (and his bride), The Hares (Dances with Whores and Just Tony) and yours' truly: Fudgepacker. 

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Hash Trash #866, Groundhog Day Hash, Feb 1, 2015, submitted by Wants it Bad

Our Reading Hash House Harriers celebrated Groundhog’s Day in style, as our hares, Foot Fairy and Horn of Plenty, had custom embroidered RH3 Groundhog’s Day Hash 2015 head warmers available for the hounds. The chic Hashers, Bad Semen, Hot Lips, Frank Burns, Just Robert, Vera Wangless, Bones, Big Scroat, AD/DC, Stupid Brother, Little Man in the Boat, Tidy Bowl, Flamer, Clam Pounder, Just Tony, Dances with Whores, TurtleHead, Optopussy, Little Big Dick, Fudge Packer, In U End O, No Fucking Brains, Hollow Beaver, Titmouse, Caught Ya Fuckin’, Wants It Bad, Comes When She Pleases, and Polly Has Tits, sporting their new headgear laid lots of tracks up and down and all around the mountains near Antietam Lake. The hares were kind enough to lay the trail partially in fluorescent orange and partially with flour, although the hashers were not always on trail. The group splintered early on, but were brought together rather quickly for the first Shot Stop, Cherry Bombs to warm our chilly selves. On up went the group, with the front-runners leaving wonderful footprints in the ankle deep snow for the rest to follow. Up, Up, up we trudged, hoping to see a BN. No such sighting was seen. Down, down, down we dashed and there it was for all to see, a fluorescent orange BN and an arrow pointing up. The Hashers looked up what seemed a never-ending, winding driveway. Some sprinted, some jogged, some walked, and many bitched about the steepness of the incline. Alas, when we reached the top, Foot Fairy, beaming from ear to ear was blasting Sonny and Cher’s “I Got You Babe” a la Phil Conner’s 6:00 AM wake up song from Bill Murray’s classic, “Groundhog’s Day” and Horn of Plenty was handing out beers to the wildly winded wankers. Beer drunk, the Hashers continued through a cornfield, down a ridiculous embankment, and came to another SN. This time it was Cinnamon Fireball passed around. Cockles warmed, the hashers were off and they came to find that bright orange BN and arrow pointing up that mother effin driveway. Again, some sprinted, some jogged, some walked, and a lot more bitched about having to do it again. Alas, atop this climb, were our Hares, laughing at us, asking us, “It’s Groundhog’s Day Hash, what the fuck did you expect?” Sonny sang, “Put your little hand in mine, Baby there ain’t no mountain we can’t climb.” UGH! As the song played and the beer was downed, the hashers began packing snowballs, which on the count of three all threw at our Grand Master as he made it to the top of the mountainous driveway. The pack took off again, a little smarter than the first two times we left this beer stop. Some did the loop again, some cheated by shortcutting back to the beer stop, which was serving as the HHH. Everyone crowded into PHT’s garage and enjoyed pizza, beer, Horn of Plenty’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, and really great fumes from the blaring heater. Songs were sung, down downs were downed and announcements were made. The next Hash will be on 2/15 with Dances with Whores and Just Tony serving as Hares. Wants it Bad and Caught Ya Fuckin’ reminded the group of the Toga Party at their house starting at 7pm on Valentine’s Day. (If you are planning on cuming, please let Wants It Bad or Caught Ya Fuckin’ know.) Our song was sung and the Hashers went in peace! Respectfully submitted,
Wants It Bad




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Hash #865 Colder than a Wenches Tit, 1/18/15: submitted by Comes on Demand



Oh yes it was the “Colder'N a Wenche's Tit Hash”, so they did cum from the icy roads and through the woods ...The wenches and others came to this obscure spot to get wet, wild, dirty and trashed.


Our circle begins with Fudgepacker bringing into the circle our one and only virgin … who made Just Bobby cum? That would be Just Brad … who along with Flaming Asshole hosted this reverly. Flamer goes through the motions of what we may find on trail as our teeth chatter in our fucking heads. Just Brad provided each attending wench with a sexductive card of a male wench to get their juices flowing. Then there was the side circle with Just Brad and the small harem of wenches. He tries to entice all in attendance to expose their tits, and announces the winner would receive a large prize! Did he say large? He did! That’s all they needed to hear as each wench took her turn at seductive photo shoot. All the while, Just Brad’s big toe begins to protrude through the canvas of his sneaker.

Just Brad trying to contain his apparent frenzy with all the frivolities sent the wenches back to the group, and the hares officially called the hash “on-on”. Most went down … the icy trail with some slipping down down although a few had ventured up … with that, the hash was underway. There was a back check, so we turned around to head up the fucking trail. The flour was white, but so was the fucking snow! Somewhere throughout you could hear Caughtyafuckin blow the horn. Some may be interested to know, with mouthpiece in place, he is working a new and improved blow job. Just sayin’.

Through the woods and up icy, steep trail the group followed the calls of the wild from Mr. Bluster and Turtlehead. Running, slipping, sliding and passing our way through this treacherous debacle of trail along Neversink. This group of hashers were even stimulating hikers along the way, who exclaimed they loved our bad ass go all the way attitude. Ah yes, the group finally cums joyously to an orgasmic state of a BN along with a sly style of welcome from Flamer. So the masses are tamed for a short time until finally they can no longer contain themselves. Then it is again “on - on”, off they go searching for more. But one question ... Where in the Hell is NFB? He couldn’t be fucking lost … or could he?

They rally their way out of the woods, into the streets of Mt. Penn. Here the icy streets and sidewalks continued to add a disasterly sense of adventure to this shitty trail of a hash. Wenches … male and female alike, wind their way through streets as Foot Fairy so boldly says, “Hey everybody this is really close to my house.” Really Foot Fairy? Imagine that! Look a table of hot fire ball shots on Foot Fairy’s party of a front lawn. Would the neighbors be surprised at this type of toying from the Fairy? Apparently not at all. Back went the shots arousing the senses and warming the flesh. However soon it came to pass that we must move “on-on” through more of the hares crazed maze.

Down to the end of Filbert Street and across a lake but now wait, a cable. Cable, did someone say cable? Look out! What a site as some of us watch ACDC flip ass over nuts towards the lake. Now we could carry some of this ice laying around to reduce his swelling …. Or not.

So the peril leads us to nothing other than the quaint streets of a trailer park. The dwellers watch in wonderment as this juiced up group of hashers create havoc and chant “on-on” through their village. Yet another part of society that has now been unknowingly exposed to the Reading HHH.

The trail still winds through some more streets and across the slippery edges of an icy bridge. Mr. Bluster leads the way to finally cross the HHH as the FRB at Esposito’s in Antietam. Just Bobby asks, “Is there another check?” So much to learn you silly little virgin … this is what we call the end of that shitty fucking trail. Cum one and cum all! Here we quickly grabbed our dry bags, and file inside to warms our loins and consume much food and much more drink.

The Grand Master Fudgepacker took command at the apre calling in the hares as we condemn them for the shitty icy trail. Capturing Just Brad to his spot, the Grand Master boldly announces the naming of Just Brad. Just Brad with his foot fetish and ability to adulterate any situation or any group of people. Just Brad shall forever be known as “Toe - FU”!

Accusations were thrown about, and when one hare had to drink, all hares had to drink. Hence, when one grand master had to drink, all grand masters had to drink, and again, and again. Alas so much drink and so little time. Soon announcements were made and the apre closed.

Let us not forget the large prize to the wench with the best of the best. The large prize presented to the overall winner ... Wants It Bad who lived up to her name by bearing it all.

All went in peace or left to get a piece and it was so so good.

Comes On Demand.


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Hash #864 Hangover Hash, 1/1/15: submitted by Tidy Bowl and Little Man in the Boat

Hangover/Get Yourself Out Of Bed Hash because THE HARE Just Paul makes great beer and we were still thirsty.

The event started with 17 freezing hashers meeting in a  semi heated garage at 11 AM preparing to take a jaunt through the West Lawn countryside...AKA circle jerk.  The Hares Fudge Packer (lending his vast knowledge) and Just Paul (lending his house and exquisite beer making ability) informed us of all the instructions and important information we would need in our travels.  Just Liz, Just Paul's wife, provided many good eats especially the tasty chilli.

The ON ON was given and the pack sauntered down the road.  Splitting into at least two different groups and some individuals the hashers looked for what seemed to be like elusive flour. Some hashers ended up following dots of flour into a gated community until the flour disappeared.  Backing up and finding the trail we disturbed a flock of geese and ended up going through a vast cement trough past a poop plant.  In the meantime the hares plus Tidy Bowl who was car hashing drove to the soccor fields for the one and only beer check.  The pack being lost as we where stumbled accross the beer check minus AC/DC, dresssed as Miss New Year,  who was the only one who followed true trail to the beer check.  Of course this required him to undress for a second polar bear plung of the day to cross the creek to arrive finally at the beer check.  This provided enjoyable entertainment for the pack who was enjoying recycled beer check beer from many hashes before.  

After proper rehydration the pack ran accross the soccor fields to continue on their journey.  Our responsible Hash Horn (Caughtyoufucking) lost his mouthpiece attempting to cross the first bridge.  No wonder the hash couldn't stay together, no horn and very little flour.  Oh well, enough bitching, the hash continued on. 

Over roads, through corn fields, and through a creek we continued our journey back to the Hare's house.  GirlyBoy, being the stellar hasher he is, wanderd in first followed closesly by NFB and Bushwacker being not so stellar was last in. 

While tasty home brewed Pilsners and a breakfast Stouts were being consumed the circle was formed and hash business conducted.  Various down downs were given.  Tidy Bowl and Foot Fairy for car hashing.  Turtle Head for his stupid accusation had to drink and some alocohol abuse down downs were given.

After a wonderful edition of Swing Low the circle closed and there was more eating and drinking and eventually everyone wandered the fuck home

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HASH TRASH #863, Last Hash of the Year 12/27/14

Hares Bad Seamen and Fudgepacker led us up a mountain, across a mountain, down a mountain and into some unique areas of downtown Reading. They brought us thru alleys you would not know existed, a bar that most sane people would avoid, to a "Christmas tree" that came right out of A Charlie Brown Christmas where we sang a song, and then to the forest inn (where they abandoned us and made us walk back to our cars thru city park at night. We had some virgins (who most likely will not come back) and some RH3 regulars as well as a showing of Dancing Fool.

It was Just a Hash...On-On, Fudgie


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HASH TRASH #862 / Santa F*cks The Hash 12/13/14: submitted by Decoy

I have this love / hate thing going with Santa. I love the fact that I get out to run a good trail in mid December without the associated "why aren't you available to attend my girlfriends Vera Bradley themed Christmas party" guilt thing that Mrs. Decoy (aka Bambi) would normally heap upon me. I hate the fact that the hares are so goddamn intent on fucking the pack at every turn. I felt like I prepared the apres like I was heading off on an expedition up Mt. Everest -- only missing a sherpa and spare oxygen canisters in my drybag, because I never know what these fuckers are going to throw at me. "Hope you brought warm layers for the apres" the hares were intoning at the on-on. "Yeah... oh yeah, I got the lined khahkis, the Cabelas base layer, boy scout socks, a wool hat, sweatshirts and fleeces, I'm good.to.fuckin.go" I replied, as I hastily threw in another sweatshirt that was floating around the back of my car. Yeah well, that was for shit. Fuckers.
Yeah yeah, I know its called 'Santa F*cks The Hash' -- I get that shit. Its just ... you know once.... instead of just f*cking us, we could cuddle and talk about our future, so I don't feel so damn cheap. As it is, they barely flip me a kleenex and cabfare before shuttling my ass out onto the frozen street.
And so we started off from Pendora Park on 12/13/14 at exactly 16:17:18 in search of flour. Flour marks were strewn across the hillside below Mineral Spring Rd leading us past the old Catholic HS, past groups of Readingites cheering us on. Honestly, I couldn't hear them too well because Horny Hands was hashing along in a Santa Suit with full.fucking.sleighbells shaking and jingling and causing my bloodpressure to skyrocket. Seriously, ever think you need a quaalude DURING the hash? If I didn't think they'd come in handy later when I was lost in the woods dying of a gunshot wound of some sort, I would have ripped those goddamn things off and stomped on them until all the Christmas cheer was flattened the fuck out.
But I digress....
So we headed across the hill, past Duryea Drive and met up for a quick BN at the top of City Park. From there, we were told, we were on reflective dots for the rest of the run, so flip on the headlamps, tape up your ankles, and pray that you don't run into a methlab up there in the woods. Up up up we went -- in a ankle-breaking deathmarch that did little to lighten my fucking mood, and lots more to string out the pack. Hauling up the ass of the pack were the old guys -- 4FU from H5 and Bad Semen who, after castigating the hash for not adequately checking for flour at the plethora of checks back in the city, must have decided that we could just go fuck ourselves once and for all.
Finally, we hit Skyline Drive, looped over and found trail behind the firetower which snaked down to a Jagershot. After passing the bottle (as well as a nasty sore throat -- thanks for that, I'll be sure to give it to my family) around for a bit, we took off once again on trail, running into a beautiful backcheck that landed us in Englemans Park. A hop skip, and a jump (or a fall on a rock in 4FU's case, and a swampy step in water up to my knee for me) we started flying down through Pendora and back to the parking lot. a TT diverted us from the cars leading to that lovely establishment, the Coachlight Tavern.
I like the Coachlight -- nice pool table, high ceilings, nice bar, room to move around.... or not. Or we could be in the basement with claustraphobically low ceilings, pitchers full of PBR (more on that later), boiled hot dogs, a coffin (no shit), and various hidey-holes that probably were once part of the Underground Railroad. So there we are -- about 30 of us crammed in the basement whooping it up while about 4 or 5 civilian folks quaffed their beverages upstairs in relative comfort.
PBR. I said I'd get to that later. WHAT.THE.FUCK. I'm not a bitchy hasher -- I roll with the punches -- don't complain (too much) about trails or bimbos who don't put out without the use of rohypnol, but PBR on tap for the apres? Was it something we said? Or is this another example of Santa's special brand of fuckery™ I swear Santa, I was good this year, I followed trail, I sang songs, I kept my dick in my pants.... but sliding PBR down my gullet was like the ultimate Santa brand assfucking™ -- with no lube and not even the promise of a reach-around.
Alright, so a circle commenced -- namings abounded, a lesbian toe-sucking story was proferred etc etc. The Grandmaster brought 4 copies of a Santa Hash Hymnal (or Hernal ... depending on your proclivities) which got covered in beer before the circle started rendering it like the GM's dick -- limp and useless. After many down-downs, Santa paid a visit, and the pack got a chance to sing the eternal '12 Days of Hashmas'. I got a little misty eyed as the 12-Days wrapped up -- well, it wasn't really misty-eyed -- some fucker threw beer on my face and the PBR was akin to a face full of muriatic acid. Optopussy gave me some eyedrops and told me it would be all better, but after the co-pay she demanded, I'm not sure it was worth it.
All in all --- it was Santa Hash. My favorite hash of the year. As always, it beat the absolute fuck out of decorating the tree with the family, and watching the brats fight over which one of them can hang that shitty Spongebob ornamnent, while Mrs. Decoy drinks herself into a coma wondering why she didn't marry that doctor/banker/actor. Thanks to Santa for flying in (once again) from the great white North, and thanks to his gay little elf, NFB for putting all the logistics together. Shitty Hash Santa -- Looking forward to next year, but uhhhh Santa..... NO PBR.
Yours In Hashlyness
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HASH TRASH#860 - BC/DC - 11/16/14: Submitted by Dances w/ Whores
The residents of the quiet neighborhood in Wernersville suspected nothing unusual that day. It was a quiet Sunday afternoon, much like every other Sunday afternoon, as they progressed about their usual activities of yard work, playing outdoors and preparing for an afternoon of watching football. Yet, something didn't seem quite right about this Sunday, as there was an odd foreboding sense in the air that today would be different. None of them expected, nor could they have ever properly prepared for the events that were about to take place.
The cars and such began arriving, slowly at first, gradually increasing in the early afternoon. An odd crowd seemed to be gathering in the garage of that couple that none of them were quite sure about from the time they moved in. A few of the braver residents made discreet attempts to catch a glimpse into the garage in an effort to discern what was going on inside. The noises within were boisterous for a while, then became eerily quiet with the exception of a few voices, which seemed to be giving commands to those gathered inside. What could be in store for their quiet little neighborhood? A few waited in tense trepidation for what was about to happen.
Then, all of a sudden, the voices stopped and those gathered inside came bustling out of the garage, some running, some jogging, a few walking. Shouts of "RU?" where heard, then whistles and noises and shouts of "ON-ON!" as the odd group left the neighborhood. With everything seeming to have returned to normal, the residents of the quiet little neighborhood resumed their normal Sunday activities.
The pack followed trail along a quiet road, found a few checks and got F'd at least once, before they headed up through what appeared to be a Christmas tree farm and onto a familiar looking cornfield. Trail led them across the cornfield, with more checks and F's, and corn stalks cut to a decided hazardous height, perfect for a hash trail. Trail then led them down across the creek onto another quiet country road. Well, quiet, until this rag tag band showed up, with shouts of "RU?" and "on-ON!" to break the calm. Another check appeared, and trail led up a steep embankment and across the meadow and through the woods, until finally they found the prize - a prominent BN on the ground. BEER NEAR! They searched around, and alas, no beer was to be found. A short distance further down the trail were two hares and one mystery hare with the cold refreshment they desired. They enjoyed a short repast under a chestnut tree with mystery hare Just Kim collecting sticky chestnuts on her backside like a rabbit's tail.
Off the pack went. with more X's and F's, as expected, and down into lovely downtown Wernersville, where more cold refreshments were found at a popular local hangout. They weren't in any hurry to leave, but finally with some encouragement off again they went, across Penn Avenue to find trail leading down what else but the railroad line. A nice run down the tracks was interrupted by the presence of a freight train. The nerve of those things to interrupt their lovely trail. Trail led them back up onto the road, then back across Penn Avenue into a park and another cornfield. Thankfully this one wasn't cut to ankle breaking height - it just simply wasn't cut at all. Crashing through the rows of corn, wondering if they would ever find their way out, they began to emerge a few at a time onto a cul-de-sac where trail resumed back through the quiet little neighborhood back to the hares' abode.
Again filling the garage, the pack, consisting of Foot Fairy, Just Brad, Just Paul, Just Jackie, Just Bill, High Maintenance, Dirty Sanchez, Spore Whore, Horn of Plenty, She's Mine, Bad Semen, Fudge Packer, Dances with Whores, Orally Pleasing, Ac/DC, Little Big Dick, Flamer, NFB, Just Laura and Tidy Bowl hoisted their glasses in a joyous circle. Grandmaster Fudge Packer called hares Ginger Snatch, CaughtchaFuckin and Wants it Bad along with mystery hare Just Kim in to circle for a rousing rendition of Shitty Trail. Accusations were made, birthdays were celebrated and many down-downs were awarded before the pack broke up and headed back to Paradise by the Slice for a welcome repast.
Respectfully submitted,
Dances with Whores

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HASH TRASH #859 Fleetwood is Burning, submitted by Fudgepacker


Well, Fleetwood was going to burn and the Reading Hash House Harriers where going to do their part to burn it down.  The Hares had been secretive about many of details of the hash and we should have known that this means one thing, we were fucked! As we gathered between the Fleetwood High and Middle school, the hares could be seen talking off to the side making final preparations as we consumed some festive fall themed libations in red cups.  Trail marks were laid out and described by Girlie Boy.  The lone virgin was brought forth…. yours truly asked this beautiful blond harriette (with several distinguishing tats) “who made her cum?” and she proudly yelled out ACDC. Many cheers and high 5’s were given to him and the virgin started having that look of “What the fuck did I get myself into?”

After all the dry bags were secured in the hares vehicles, the kennel was off. NFB, Fucking Deadwood, Big Scroat, Albino Beaver and several others raced off to find the trail and came upon the first check.  New trail was found relatively easily (the only time that day) and that brought us to check #2… well from there things went to shit. While NFB did his best to outsmart the hares, several hashers led by ACDC went off and then stopped as if they were contemplating where to go upon finding another check. As the masses made their way near them, they yelled FALSE and we all turned around to the previous check. After several failed attempts to find trail, Mr Bluster finally found flour and we were off again. The pack thought it best to stay close together from that point on.  A few others (specifically Fudgepacker, NFB and Mr Bluster) went on their own to do their best at second guessing the hares. 

It was becoming painfully clear that the hares had done their homework and this was not to be an easy trail to follow.  Marks heading into fields of recently cut corn, grassy fields and across train tracks were well planned…. That is until the fucking train came along and the hashers scattered like roaches when the lights came on. After we checked our shorts, and counted off our hashers, we ran down the other side of the track while the HUGE locomaotive continued on in the other direction, that is until another fucking train cume up from behind. Now I’m all for having things cum from behind but freight trains that are a mile long and going 40 mph are not always a welcome site.  We bailed off the tracks and stood around looking like true Fleetwoodians and after the Reading Railroad exited in both directions, we procedded. Some found their way under the tracks and others went on across b/c we didn’t want wet feet. Eventually we all found our way back to the right side of the tracks, on trail  and into our first beer check. The hares generously offered up the house and any bottle or draft was up for grabs. Well let’s just say that these hashers were thirsty for good beer and so it flowed. At the Grand Central tap room we came upon our first trio of auto hashers Siren Cums Loudly, Panic Button and Baby Zoe.  After many hugs and “oooo’s” and “ahhhhs” directed at the tiny “hash love” baby, Tidy Bowl sent the hashers off toward their second BN.

Having had a small amount of hash knowledge imparted to me by the hares,  I cleverly took a short stroll over to Fleetwood Grille where I found our hares and two more auto hashers: Dancing Fool and AKA.  Again the hares called out to the kennel as they came in, “Any Draft is on us!”  Well you certainly didn’t have to ask us twice.  A mad rush to the bar and the staff was overwhelmed by nearly 30 hashers. With 20 or so selections of craft beer available on tap, many of the hashers considered sitting down and calling it a day but we weren’t done and the hares would have none of that.  So off we went; back on trail, crossing over the railroad tracks again to see if death could be cheated one more time… now  somewhere in the course of these crossings, Just Tania (as she was known at the beginning of the hash) hit her head…Head? Did someone say head? I’ll have some of that… sorry flash back to the 2nd BN as songs were breaking out early.. back to Just Tania. I’m not sure of all the details but later on in the night many of us could tell that she was not quite right. I later came to find out that she had received a concussion.  She will be feeling much better soon. More about Just Tania later…

As we began to exit downtown Fleetwood, we started up the hill towards Tidy Bowl’s home and as assumed by many, this was to be a true A-B.  Half way up, another check was found and several hashers kept going straight up the hill from hell. A false greeted them after 6 or 7 flour marks but they kept going, blowing by the “F” like some hashers do… (strangely enough, NFB was not even there as he had to bail after the 2nd BN). All I can say is “FUCK THEM”. Their loss because the hares had a special treat for the hashers.  As we went into the first real shiggy of the day, we climbed a hill that even Mr Bluster liked, loose rocks, 70%+ incline… a “hand over fist” kind of hill.  Eventually we exited the shiggy and saw a wonderful site, the hares, a hay wagon, a big tub of shots, a ½ barrel of sweet Canadian barley and hops… and our dry bags (by now it was getting fucking cold so a change of clothes was needed).We loaded up the wagon and were off for the final part of the trail.

 As we made our way to the HHH, I pulled out……... a song book you sick pricks, I never pull out before I cum to a finish.  Now this song book was handed out by our previous GM She’s Mine I Saw Her First. She  had attempted to hand out many hashes ago... I recall grabbing it and stomping on it that day and by her reaction, she hadn’t forgotten either.  After a small struggle, She’s Mine settled down (could have been the sweet nothings I whispered in her ear or the promise of some “private lessons” later). Anyway; I serenaded the group on the hay ride with some help from several others who joined in when they knew the lyrics. We went over some of the basics and then had a slow rendering of our final song that we end all hashes with, Swing Low Sweet Chariot. Proper hand and body motions were demonstrated and by the look and sound of our farewell song at the end of circle, the hashers had been really good students.  Conductor Fudgy was very pleased.

At circle, I decided to mix things up because we once again held an epic event and some folks had to get going. So we started off circle by getting the hares in for the traditional SHITTY Trail and then had a festive session of namings. Just Michelle had proven the power of Mr Bluster once again and for that, was named “Cums on demand”, Just Nick, whom had only been to the Halloween hash prior to this event, had made the unfortunate mistake of calling out his diminutive inadequacies during the last hash, “Shrinkage” shall he forever more be known as.  Just Keith made a return to the kennel and Big Scroat had a hand in naming him “Clam Pounder”.  Finally, we brought out Just Brock and Just Tania (she was still vertical at this point) and after some comments about the blog post for the Bloody Shart hash, our own Russell Crowe look alike was named  “Glad He Ate Her” and the girl with more holes than I have appendages was named  “One More Hole”.  A small chant broke out in her honor and the newly named hashers were welcomed into the kennel.  The rest of the circle was pretty standard with myself being self-appointed FRB as none of the short cutters went looking for the HHH, instead they found a bottle of Jose Quervo in Tidy Bowls fridge (smart hashers, stupid hare). Virgins, non-returners, out of towners…  and then the farewell song… a beautiful rendition if I do say so myself. Never before had I seen the RH3 group sing with such passion.  The Apres was then held with the lighting of the Bonfire, consumption of more beer and food… Truly wonderful event that I hope can be repeated in the future.

those in attendance: that I can remember…

Your Hares: Tidy Bowl, Girly Boy and Just Laura

Foot Fairy, Dances with Whores, Spore Whore, She’s Mine, Mr Bluster, Just Michelle (Cums on Demand), Just Brad, Just Nick (Shrinkage), NFB, Albino Beaver, Fucking Deadwood, Just Jackie, ACDC, Big Scroat, Just Eric, Justine the Fawn Fucker, Cozy crotch, Just Tom, Just Donna, Just Lisa (virgin). Bushwacker, Pulls out Early, Just Keith (Clam Pounder), Just Brock (Glad He Ate Her), Just Tania (One More Hole), Just Duane,

Auto Hashers: Dancing Fool, AKA, Caughtchafuckin’, Siren Cums Loudly, Panic Button (with Just Zoe and Just Nimbus), Just Phil
 

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HASH TRASH #858 submitted by Just Greg



10/26/14: This year’s Halloween Hash had us venturing to an oh-so-familiar trailhead for some of us, for a not-so-familiar adventure through homeless camps, rank-smelling swamplands, visits with some of Reading's finest citizens, a dip in a "spa", and just to fit the occasion - a side trip to witness local gravediggers (or robbers) at work.
Our fine hosts were Just Michelle and Mr. Bluster.  A swarm of 52 hashers including 12 virgins, arrived in fine attire for the afternoon stroll.   Among the adventurers were Ebola patients and doctors, knights and knightesses in not so shiny armor, beautiful "women", many "who in the fuck are you supposed to be's", a few party-poopers who apparently didn't get the costume memo, and just as the festivities were about to start - a zombie limped up the trail (we still think this was not a hasher at all but a toxic corpse that crawled out of the river).
Fudgepacker led off the event in fine fashion and prose, welcoming young and old; virgins and whores; drunks, and well, drunks.  Again some Portland Oregon crazies joined us for unknown reasons.  Mr Bluster explained the "rules" of the hash while everyone talked and mocked.
Starting off was an immediate B11 that took us for a rambling through Angelica Park and a visit to the students and professors of Alvernia College, who appeared to be ever-so glad to see us.  NOT.    Apparently the college ran out of dorm space, as we disturbed a student's "housing" by the creek and trudged through his "bathtub" complete with soap and scrubbies.  
The residents and thru-travelers along Lancaster Ave stared at us creatures with wonderment as we ran in front of their cars and wildly searched for the trail in all directions. (Obeying all traffic laws of course, eh hum). We experienced a welcome beer/ shot check after climbing a 89 degree vertical cliff just to make it more worth it as if we didn't deserve it thus far. 
From atop the railroad tracks we could spot an "F" on both sides of the 1000 ft (give or take) embankment, thinking "oh so the true trail must be straight ahead".  Knowing the clever Mr Bluster, this was not so, but rather an act of true debauchery.  Once back on trail, we were treated to a refreshing dip in the flowing sterile mineral spring waters of a Schuylkill River tributary. Ahhhh, how refreshing.  From the mouth of virgin "Just Nick" were the infamous words, "my dick is going to shrivel" (or something like that :-)
Next up were the visits with the local crackheads who pointed us in the "right" direction which led us out into the 2nd busiest intersection in the county, just so we could dodge cars and the "women" could flash passengers and give the bored motorists an afternoon treat.   Hashers being hashers, we were oh-so-wise to listen to the drug induced voices of the local's directions.   So yes, after backtracking past the aforementioned wise men and being told about a body being pulled from the river shortly before our arrival on the crime scene, we were back on trail.   (And yes, a body WAS pulled from the river at approximately 1:40pm under the Binghaman St Bridge!!)   Some of us believe Mr Bluster gave the poor soul, may he rest in peace, a heart attack chasing him for his beer.
Now we encountered the next portion of our haunted tour of the Reading riverbanks - the local gravediggers hard at work.  Apparently the Reading authorities have fine-tuned their thriving business of murder and mayhem and dig graves within minutes of bodies washing ashore. 
Some of the mastermind hashers attempted short cuts only to be waiting star-gazed in parking lots while the hares came to their rescue in their shining armor.  Mr Bluster's daughter “Just Sam” tried to read her dad's mind (but who really wants to know what goes on in there) and predict the trail.   Ducky had to remind her of his abnormal thinking and that guessing may not be such a good idea, as she found out on multiple occasions.
Back down by the river, the crew finally arrived at the welcome end, equipped with much beverage and snacks to keep the hounds regaling for the coming rituals.  Again our grandmaster Fudgepacker led the virgins and experienced alike in fine song and drink before we departed for the not-planned-for après at Mr Bluster and Just Michelle's. 
Our welcoming hosts had the apres equipped with their wonderful hospitality, fine drink of all variety, and enough pizza flavors to put Baskin Robbins to shame.   A good time was had by all.
Thank you to our fine hosts for the haunted tour of the Reading riverbanks and swamplands.
Sincerely,
Just Greg



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HASH TRASH #857 submitted by Just Brad



October 12th saw us venturing north of RT 78 for Bloody Sharts on the 
Gaylands.....or...."Deliverance, the Sequel". Our band of intrepid Justs 
(Jackie, Bill, Tanya and Brock) under the tutelage of GM Fudgie, hared a trail 
Ned Beatty would have loved to follow....ok, maybe not. 

We started the gaieties welcoming 5 virgins, all of whom had that "What the fuck 
did I get myself into?!" look on their faces. Also in attendance was a hasher from Portland, OR. Cock Sprocket. 
Ok, is it just me or does that conjure up a mental picture of a horrible industrial accident! 
"Caution: please keep loose clothing and genitalia away from moving gears"
Then...On On! 
First, a mindless slog along a gravel road, climbing ever closer to the sun. Then, Thank 
God....beer near! It became rapidly evident that the Justs scoured every back 
room and storage shed in the county for dusty cases of unidentifiable swill. 

Back on the trail NFB was doing his level best not to follow, we ran along 
babbling brooks, on sharp, pointed rocks and over a tree that only hours earlier, 
would have crushed us all as it fell across the trail. 
Another beer near stop and we continued to climb, passing curious hikers wondering what kind of idiots 
run up a mountain. "Hashers, Ma'm....and damned proud of it!!" Off ahead in the 
distance, Bluster was barking like a cocker spaniel in heat, reminding us of how 
truely slow we were running. 

Cresting the summit, our final stop was a shot stop, featuring offerings of 
Robitussin and Listermint. After prophylaxing against whooping cough and cock 
breath, we began our precarious decent. Grunts and "Oh Shits" abounded as loose 
rock slid from under our feet.

Finally, back on the gravel road, we lumbered to the lot (Just why the hell did 
we need to load our dry bags in the Jeep when they never left the lot??) for 
pizza and more shitty beer. Circle saw Just Abraham being named Reacharound, for 
committing an act on Fudgepacker I'd rather not describe. 

For those of us still thirsty for more, an après was held at Haag's Hotel, where 
we offended the locals and marveled at the bar's piss trough. Bar stools were at 
a premium so our beloved Grand Master proposed we turn them upside down, 
effectively quadrupling the seating capacity. What a great leader!

Respectfully submitted,

Just Brad OnOn

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HASH TRASH #855, submitted by Vera Wangless

9/06/14: To be remembered for its glorious Trail Blazing!
There were 27 of us meeting at the end of Wyomissing Road at a Lumber Yard. Our Grand Master, Fudge Packer was there to get the Hash On ON! The Hares, She’s Mine and Just Phil apparently laid the trail prior possibly a couple of days prior, we found this out with the hard way.
We circled up and indoctrinated two new Virgins, one even had 4 Legs, Just Nala a beautiful boxer that loved to hash!
The Trail started out Shitty and continued until the first beer stop. As we tried to make our way out of the Beer Near, good ole Reading let us know where we were. The smells were nasty and the trash was well laid. Every once in awhile we saw a tiny shot of flour, thanks Hares!
Looking for a metal bridge further down the trail led some of us in the wrong direction, after tramping back and forth, the majority returned to the metal bridge and went to opposite direction. The whackers made trail and found the HHH. I, Stupid Brother and Deadwood decided to head towards Grings Mill on the road, we got there and contemplated the majority heading towards us on the path, WRONG. Deadwood, asked again who the Hares were and just then, Stupid Brother realized that Just Phil lived within a mile of where we were. So we got back on the path and headed back, there we found the check, an arrow, a snake and two bikers, it was a busy check! On On!
Well it was my first Dead Fucking Last and hopefully my last.
Vera Wangless



additional info from Fudgepacker:

We had two namings @ circle.  Just Jason and Just Lynne (our Hash Horns) were given their hash names and will forever more they will be known as Cauchafukin and Wants it BAD.

OnOn

Fudgie

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HASH TRASH #854, submitted by Foot Fairy


August 24th, 2014 The totally secret decoy hash….

I don’t fully know how I got committed to this Hash Trash but who am I to deny our great Grand Master even though he did not show up! Ok…things I remember about this hash. Note to self, if you want to save $ on beer meet in a Elementary school parking lot that does not allow it due to it being an institute of small children. Good move Decoy…not! At least the nice officer was there to watch our cars while we were gone…so we headed off, un-lubbed…dry..and up a hill into rural suburbia. During our romp through the streets of (??) finally a much needed sight “BN”. Hmm this looks like a house, with nobody home? Yeah well there is cold beer and chalk to draw on the driveway….were in! After some lube, and trying to make ACDC’s pictures suitable for the members of Décoys boys scout troop who donated their driveway, we headed back out. Some additional suburbia led us to ahh Shillington park. Finally off the fuckin road and on to some trails!! Some sparse flower, a false to no “F”, some climbing and finally another wonderfully site. “BN” This time behind one of Decoy’s soccer players house…the small children theme continues!?! We drank behind their house, hey there was BN there! After being watched out the window for a bit like true creepers we figured it was time to move on. A cemetery and a re-route to not take us directly past the guy in the hammock getting a hand job, (?) and a nice final climb finally brought us to the HHH. Some cool little rock formation spot on a hill overlooking the beautiful GM schools. (again small children theme) We sang, we drank, we ate hoagies…all was merry! Post – post festivities would take us to Flanagan’s where we either stumbled among a HASH hang out or a car Hasher’s convention as our size instantly doubled! Many storied were told, laughs were had…and the small child theme continued as Decoy told stories of a shirtless…dolphin short wearing…handle bar mustache sporting Mr. Bluster picking him up as a small boy to go “run” in the woods!

ON-ON my friends….!!


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HASH TRASH #853, submitted by Just Jason

8/16/2014: fun circle to start. Always nice to see who cums with virgins to something like this. And a bonus...a "slightly used" prize exchange at the end. But the course....hmmm for the most part of what was visible for a bit was interesting. Lots of +'s and f's. First BN at a quaint little who knows where the fuck that bar was. Then more of that "running"ish to...wait...why is the sun starting to set. How long have we been running? Second beer stop at that big outdoor bar where we seemed to startle a few onlookers. And still the sun was setting. On up after that and quite a steep up. In the woods in the dark?! WTF!!!! And still more trail in the dark. Who knew you had to bring a head lamp or some kind of a light. Don't think any of the toys had a light feature or glowed to maybe help in the aiding of the "course". Oh look! Scroats house! Holy shit we made it! Was dark but could see people enjoying the pool, maybe skinny dipping,luckily the water wasn't that cold for any turtle headsto shrink up in their shell. Fun eats of wieners and hot juicy clams! By then it was 9pm! Yes. Nuf said. Oh For Fucks Sake! Thank you Scroatus Maximus for whatever that was supposed to be. ONON to all!

Naming:  Just Jenn was named during circle. Forever more she will be known as InUendOh

OnOn

Fudgie

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