Hash Trash 2

Hash Trash 1 was full!!


 #1000 – the 34DD Campout 2018
So, the slobbering pack met up at the Olivet Blue Mountain Camp in the middle of fucking nowhere, Hamburg, PA on a pleasant, cloudy, 70-ish degree afternoon of Saturday, September 22, 2018 AD for RH3’s celebration of the 50th trail of GM, ToeFU, the 34th analversary of RH3 and the 1000th trail.
Hashers who may or may not have shown-up at some point or other included ToeFU, Any Crack’ll Do, Beulah Ballbreaker, Cause for Blindness, Bitch Tits, Brag a Deer General, Dan Marine-Ho, Decoitous Interruptus, Hot Lips, Food Fairy, Jewel of duh-Nile, Pooperlicious, Roadkill, Sex-A-Sketch, Sister Maria, Skratch n Stiff, Analholics Anonymous, Dog, Bad Semen, Dick On A Stick, Breast Stroker, Dave the Mason, Bukkake, Dances with Whores, Casting Couch, Cums With the Turf, Cauchafukin, Clampounder, Cougar Bait, Jungle Blow, Inuendo, Horn of Plenty, Eats Grammy, Exploited College Girl, Everyday Asshole, In the Bush, Hot for Teacher, Indian Quieff, Flamer, Fudgepacker, Hogrider, Gone Colloni, Glass Ass, Fuzzbuster, G.I., Gilligan the Skipper Too, Glad He Ate Her, Jungle Blow, Partial Erection, Papoosy, Octopussy, Packs em in the rear, One More Hole, Not TWAT!, Old News, NFB, Just Amy, Just Brett, Legal Easy, Lil Red Riding Ho, Just Mike, Just Sarah, Just Tara, Mary Fucking Poppins, Nasty Panties, NecroPheelMeUp, PubeHeAteHer, Praying Man Tits, Pulls Out Early, Wants It Bad, Unlike a Virgin, Two Finder 2sday, Tour de Puke, Tongue Job, Roids, She’s Mine I Saw Her First, Shrinkage, Sinderella, Suckie Sucker, Stiff On Toe Poke Her, Sir Lince-A-Squat, Spermit, Dancing Fool and . . .?
Our hares for today were No Fucking Brains, who was to blame for the runner’s trail, and Hot Lips, Suckie Sucker and Beullah Ballbreaker, who were to blame for the walker’s trail. ToeFU attempted to get the pack to pay some attention to chalk-talk by wielding a bullhorn, but most of us were already buzzing by now and continued to sip on Reading’s champagne of beers, Hamm’s whilst the hares explained that we might want to look for marks or risk getting hopelessly lost and left for dead, mauled by a wild animal or raped by Big Foot on the mountain. The runners were told to follow white flour, while the walkers were told to follow red flour and eventually the two would meet up, but all we really cared to hear was that there would be beer and shots and some more beer. And so, once everyone in circle had introduced themselves from kennels near and far, we moseyed over to the chapel area of camp to call down a blessing for the sinners amongst us and pay homage to RH3’s ancestors. And after much pomp and cir-CUM-stance it was time to go explore the woods and the metropolis of Hamburg, so…
On-On!
The runner’s trail started with everyone looking for marks aimlessly for a while until On-On was called and we head-ed up and down many hills, through varying degrees of shiggy, through a tunnel and down a creek, which depending on how far you ventured might have had you in balls-deep or twat-chilling water. We only got fucked-up a few times, one being in a park with a kids’ soccer game going on where we confused some locals who thought we might be luring their children away, but eventually we back-tracked around a pond and through some people’s backyards before they were able to call the cops. Then we came upon the Beer Near in the middle of a walking path and were surprised with a cooler of Hamm’s beer…rare in these parts. We even offered some to the locals passing by, but apparently they had standards and started walking faster, trying not to make eye contact. More for us!
On-On!
So back on trail we went and head-ed down, down, down further into the town of Hamburg. We got fucked-up at another check, which had a few FRB’s crossing some water unnecessarily, while some other wanks found trail going into town, where marks ran-out, but a few insiders were in the know that we were head-ed to 1787 Brewery for the next Beer Near. And so, those who actually did the whole trail to this point were relegated to the back of the beer line where they belonged and we all enjoyed some fine, tasty beverages and got some souvenir cups out of the whole deal.
On-On!
At this point, trail went to all red marks, so we followed it through a cemetery where a bottle of Fireball was waiting for us on the gravestone of a family member of one of the hares. Some wanks had inadvertently blown-by this spot, but not to worry…more shots awaited further up in the form of colorful jello-shot syringes. And so, we shot-up for a while to fuel us for the rest of trail, which wound around the hilly neighborhoods until at last, we discovered the On-In back at camp.
One everyone had returned, the games commenced prior to circle starting. First-up was the paddleboat race across the lake. Unfortunately for the participants, and fortunately for everyone else, only one of the paddleboats was in working order. The other two took-on water and had to be towed-in by Gilligan and some other sympathetic hashers while the rest of us drank our beers, pointed and laughed. It gets better. One of the paddleboats ended up flipped and submerged while a bunch of wanks tried to pull the other one onto the floating dock, which somehow started floating away. Those on the floating dock attempted to swim themselves in while the rest of us continued to drink, point and laugh harder. And so, Foot Fairy declared that this would become a swimming race instead, so a bunch of brave souls doggie-paddled across the lake while the rest of us continued the drinking, laughing and pointing.
Then came the Double-D bra race in which two wanks had to strap one arm into the bra, wear the cups like hats and race the other team across a field and back. Not sure if a winner was declared, but no boobs were harmed in the chaotic fray, as far as I could tell.
Circle was eventually held so we could sing some songs are hurl some insults at each other. The hares were berated for their shitty trail. I have no idea who was first in, but Cause was probably last…and she still can’t make no accusation. Bukkake was recognized for being the only hasher to do trail in a wheelchair. Mary Fucking Poppins was called-out for doing hill-repeats this week as training for the trail. A virgin was introduced to hashing. The out-of-towners drank for managing to find this place. All GM’s drank and then former Reading GM’s. More accusations were thrown around while we drained some more Hamm’s and shot-up some more jello. And eventually, we ended with an arousing rendition of “Swing Low” and the hash got a piece.
Following circle, we were treated to a most tasty spread of beef brisket, pulled pork, turkey, cole slaw and some bangin’ mac and cheese. We danced into the night around the DJ booth and drank around the fire till eventually it was time for the midnight naked run…at 11pm. As far as I could tell, no one ran into a tree or got penetrated in any way. And the revelry continued until the wee-wee hours until most of us retired to our dorm rooms, cabins, tents, floor or patch of dirt on the ground.
The next morning we were able to treat our hang-overs with bloody mary’s, mimosas and more beer, more beer, more beer. Our lovely RH3 hosts made a fantastic breakfast of eggs, potatoes, sausage and bagels to soak up all that alcohol.
And Any Crack’ll Do hared the Fatboy trail, which had us hiking uphill for a while, then cutting through some shiggy parts of camp till we ended up at the pavilion where there was plenty more Hamm’s available at the Beer Near and we enjoyed a few games of garbage barrel beer pong.
And all-in-all, it was another shitty trail. Thank you, RH3 for hosting a most fantastic weekend and for showing us wanks a great time!
On-On!
NecroPheelMeUp


#999 The Bookends Hash
I didn’t see the sign in sheet to know the exact number, but Horn of Plenty said that there were there forty some halfminds circled in the same location as the previous 33 years for RH3’s 34th Anniversary Hash. After some words from our founding father, the normal chalk talk from our lovely hares, collectively known as SuChoHo and some introductions, the pack set off in search of flour, beer, and a good time. We wound through the streets of Wyomissing until we found the hares nestled behind a garage in an alley with plenty of refreshing Hamm’s and a bunch of cards with answers to RH3 Grandmaster trivia. Didn’t the hares know that in addition to being halfminds, a lot of us were still in diapers during “the early days”. After several rounds (of beer and trivia questions), waves of hashers started checking back in search of the 34th mark to figure out in which direction to HEAD next. I, of course, followed Swamp which led me to a series of wrong turns, but I digress...All the way back to the start we went, and then across the same drainage field that last years Anniversary Hash crossed... going in the direction of Willy Stay Slim’s old house (refer to last years Anniversary Hash Trash). A great thought, but wrong. We turned the opposite way after the field and continued exploring the streets until we found ourselves running past the cotton top’s homes in the Highlands. This is where the pack became split. It was beginning to get dark and the majority of the group (pretty much everyone except Crack), headed towards the cluster of pines where we’ve circled so many times. After no hares were found, the pack started wandering in the direction from which we had originally started...back toward the road, where we traveled uphill, all walking of course not to Type A in it in anyway, until we stumbled upon the hare’s cars parked along a different, yet very similar cluster of pines. Crack eventually joined the pack after running the rest of trail, followed by a few stragglers and the DFL: Fudgie. Songs were sung, down downs were had, and then the tired and slightly less sober pack wandered back to their cars to get cleaned up and start the party that would ensue for the next 40 or so hours. Happy Birthday RH3!! We are all awesome!
ON ON,
Hot For Teacher (with a little help from Crack)


#998 The Family Hash
Here goes nothing...
It was a fine warm September Sunday morning the sun was shining bright and the hash families,dressed in their Sunday’s finest, converged on the pavilion at Egelman’s park after their respective worship services. Luckily the area was swept of child predators by our hares, all that remained was one lonely old soul in a van waiting for a male companion. When ACDC failed to show for the family hash he took off. Lots of healthy youngsters made their way to circle to hear all about hashing. Our GM filled their young minds with fast directions and fun hash facts for the second time in his reign. Gonna make a great grandpa someday soon. The families joyfully took off toward the sun and the bone dry trail. It was very flat, smooth, and easy find. Lots of flour and a nice stairway with large railings led us the the only landmark left in Reading that is not totally infested with drugs and crime ... the Pagoda. Old news gracefully helped Benny up the steps with care. We all gathered for some juice. After a long break in the heat and humidity we started up the road to lots more flour. Some of the smart little ones and their families saw the turkey and headed down the hill following Legal Easy. No one yelled “on on”. It was a very quiet hash until we ended a long dry flat leg to the popsicle stop and grandpa Toe’s SUV. Uncle Fudgie froze the popsicles so much they wouldn’t melt even in the blazing heat. Some little hashers jumped into the car to get to the HHH. The rest of us followed Kilee Borden down the hill past some new vans and into Egelman’s with veteran hashers like Pink ( who is that you ask?), Sucky and family, Crack and Kona, Teacher, Glad, one more hole, Foot, Refund (who you ask?), DH( this was the last pink brought with two little girls), swampy, flamer, just Matt, just Amy, Beulah, nasty, couch,Decoy among others who love kids and a beautiful Sunday afternoon. The circle was very lengthy, children paid close attention to all of grandpa Toes instructions. We sang many many songs. Food was consumed more juice. Finally the piñata was tapped. Hamms for all with a few whacks of a large tree branch. Everyone had a wonderful time. Thanks to our hares, mismanagement, and all other adults like Just Amy’s daughters that kept all the angels corralled. I hope no one got a sunburn like I did that day.
Moral of the story to our young hashers ... don’t tell fibs or you’ll have to write more hash trash
Yours in jest
Breast Stroaker


#997 Lucifer On Wheels
Well this is my first time at writing this trash but I’ll give it a try. We finally had our you dry Monday in a long time from this waterlogged state of Pennsylvania and I was excited to do A bike Hash once again. The Devil Musta made a deal with mother nature to let us have a nice evening even though it was very hot and humid just like his place down below where Lucifer is from. We all showed up at this tiny park in Sinking Spring and Lucifer was nowhere to be found but his co-hairs/Demons Partial Erection and just Mitchell were there to greet us and looked a bit confused since the devil and I have had a few bouts over the years I’ve volunteered to collect the hash cash to get things moving along. We all circled up and the Demons gave us a Direction to follow but no Lucifer so we just stood around and then like a bat out of hell Lucifer showed up on a Harley dressed like a flower child from the 70s. We all followed him down the road for about a half a mile and then he disappeared into the sunset and we continued following flower through the swamp land of sinking Spring. Our first stop was at someone’s house where I made a shortstop and spotted that Head Peddler was leaving early living up to his name and of course Cums on Demand was right behind him so I thought I would get a Head start and follow them out. We winded through Wyomissing Hills where I thought I would try to be like NFB and take a shortcut to avoid a hill. Well I ended up waiting and no one was around I think the devil made me do it, then I herd some screaming in the hills which I hoped was Lucifer sacrificing a maiden, and chased after him and found three hareletts driving around in a circle lost like me so we spotted some flour that lead us out to the highway and looked up in the heavens and there was Lucifer and one of his Demons just Cody above all that hustle and bustle of the highway we had a quick shot and he pointed us towards Wyomissing and we took off from there we wondered around Wyomissing and headed back to the bike park where it all started we had more delicious Hams beer and pizza had the circle and got eaten by mosquitoes so it got dark and Lucifer faded out with the sun set never to be found again or will he?? If you don’t like this Hash trash too bad the GM made me do it and he’s no longer the GM
Praying Mantits
I said it once and I'll say it again. Punctuation saves lives.
Spelling correctly doesn't hurt either... ToeFU


#996 The Jorts Hash
Started from park road behind what use to be was VF. NFB , Swamp, Sinderella & myself , stupid brother kinda follow trail , but never did. The End
Stupid Brother
I'll I can say is...aptly named.. ToeFU


#995 Totally Legal Hash.


Why are we waiting??? It’s the better late than never hash trash for Barely Legal # 995. 
This has been a long time cumming-and some of you know that is very distressing for me!
We gathered on a steamy summer night, starting the hash hot and sweaty. Legal ran thru the rules (what rules?) and off she went to lay the course solo. Just John, the virgin, was welcomed and adorned with a collar and dog tag in case he wandered too far off course. The pack started off together which lasted about 30 seconds. Who needs marks, right? And who doesn’t love crossing the 5th street highway 6 times? We sensed we were close to a beer near despite the marks being swept away by an open fire hydrant. Just Jamie took advantage of this and decided to bathe. Indian Quief and Papussy hosted our first beer stop. There was even a water rescue. AL braved the reservoir and the city trash to save a duck decoy. From there we zig-zagged thru Laureldale looking for the trail. Yada yada yada we ended at Grumpy’s for beer stop #2. The pack continued on/off the trail down alleys and thru the cemetery and around the school until we saw the beautiful HHH back at Big Lots. Legal was able to convince the security guard we meant no harm with our gathering. The highlight of the night was the naming of my dear friend, Just Michelle. She will now be known as Nasty Panties for her collection of crusties in her car. And then a good time was had by all at Johnny and Hon’s. Another perfect hash with a great group of people.

Submitted respectfully by "Current News" Just Amy.



#994 The Float Hash
Had I known I was going to be Hash Trash, I may have paid attention to what was going on all day, but alas, I was not forewarned, SO------> A small group of us pre-lubed at Island Pizza then headed into Birdsboro to some parking lot behind some building. (Don't ask me, I never know where we are) I asked Crack if he still had a life vest in his car that I might borrow, but he got a new car and apparently sold it with the old one so, in true hasher style, I put safety third...I'm going in bare. My shirt clearly stated "not to be used as a floation device". I guess I'll take my chances. After some minor confusion as to what needed to be loaded up for before/after the float portion of our adventure, we finally circled up. Hares Any Crack'll Do, Cougar Bait, and Breast Stroker took the stage and Cougar showed us some crazy barrage of dots. My guess is he wanted to use up the rest of the flour in his sack. Or confuse us. Or both. We did our intros and we notice we have only one "Just" in our midst, Just Michelle. Remember that name, I'll get back to her later.
After a general erection was given, we were off. Roids brought along some air-headed chick who was not only missing a pastie, but apparently missed her waxing appointment, as well. Hey, maybe he's in to that, to each his own. Ok, now it gets fuzzy.....I know we went across a lot, and down a path, and across a creek, and through a 'hood, and around a bend, and down a trail, where a great pic of ExCoGi, Gone Colioni, and Casting Couch was taken as they ran towards the BN. We stopped and drank while sweat poured from our bodies. At 97% humidity, we were very moist. We cheered on a group of muggles as they passed us with quizzical glances wondering who this band of half minds are. A few minutes later and we were off again until we reached another lot filled with tubes, kayaks, a giant rubber ducky and a Cadillac float, complete with lounge area and cooler.
We loaded coolers, aired up and headed down to the river and off we went. The kayakers' job was to corral the rest of us and keep us centered and as on course as possible. No one crashed. They did well. Bukkai was riding solo in a two man float. That is until we suddenly hear a splash and a shark came out of no where...oh, wait. No, not a shark. It's Breast Stroker, swimming at a furious pace, clearly attracted to Bukkaki's sexy red lingerie like a shark to chum. He hopped aboard and they floated along blissfully the rest of the trip. Horn Of Plenty made her way around the pack on an ice cream cone float which lacked a cup holder and made beer drinking a bit of a challenge, but she's a badass and no blow up dessert is gonna stop her from sipping the Nectar of the Hash Gods. Well Done, Horn! We floated along through rain, and sun, and fun conversation.
Speaking of fun conversation, remember Just Michelle? Now, I don't know the whole story because I was holding onto Dances with Whores (who eventually broke free and joined us in the Caddy), but apparently she keeps her crusty britches in her car. I have no idea what that's all about, you'll have to ask her. We reach our exit (hard left, just past the dock with the brightly colored chairs) and pullout, deflate, change clothes, and circle up (you all know that deal..hashers, songs, down-downs, repeat). After we sang Swing Low, we went back to our cars and headed to Hidden River for apres. (Note to self...never leave your phone unattended) When I left i went to grab my tube from Cougar's trailer but to my surprise he had already left....and I'll be buying back my own stuff at the AGM. May the Hash get a piece.
On-On! Casting Couch


#993 The Bash.
F*#k, I hate writing, thanks Choo-Choo! 😫
Well here it is, Pre lubing started at Canal Street Pub. The pack gathered for hares NFB and Foot Fairy to instruct their prepared pedal powered urban assault through Reading with 28 pounds of flour marking trail. The bash attracted a bunch of new virgins, mostly the BAMBA boys and girls, and for the record, I had nothing to do with making them cum! The instructions were given and the two wheeled kennel was off. We got to see lots of alleys and streets I’m sure I never knew existed. A bunch of the hounds on Cotton street ran into the same police car a few times. Wonder what was going through his mind. Up thru Pendora Park to the Pagoda. The BN was at Topher’s (not sure I got the spelling right). Cold beer, how bad can that be? So after the beers off again to find trail, oh look a mini van throwing flour out the window, must be trail! Follow that soccer mom. Even the local neighbors were helping point where trail was going. Down through Reading to RACC trail back to the HHH, if you found it. A quick circle up, sang some songs. “Shitty Trail” was my favorite, just saying. Then back to the Pub for more Liquid lubrication.
Partial Erection
#992 America, What a Country!

I ran hungover with a bunch of sexy people. Did a shot that made me want to vomit. Had some beer, kinda was in love with everyone!

Just Felicia

Short Addendum by ToeFU....

Dozens of bleary-eyed hashers stumbled across the parking lot of the Mt. Penn Fire Tower for sunrise circle this past 4th of July. In addition to the usual fare of donuts and Hamms, ExCoGi ( who was far too persnickety for such pedestrian offerings) set up a table of Mimosas and bagels. Gone Colioni contributed tasty mini brownies. The traditional music track blared in the background.

As sunrise neared, Circle commenced. Introductions were made and the hares explained trail. A few confused virgins were brought into circle to add to their growing discomfort. And then, the pack was off...

Trail was located, first paralleling Skyline Drive, then crossing it. Down over the crumbling stone wall and a treacherously steep bank where an SN was found. More “Mimosas”....or were they? Trail continued downward, loose rocks plentiful, finally arriving at the tennis courts of Reading High. Around them and down into the hood of Northeast Reading. Wait...familiar territory! A few blocks down and the first BN...the Northeast Taproom, old time hash stomping grounds.

After some more liquid breakfast, back on trail...which became even more suspect as it took the pack down to the neighborhood by the river. Alas, the drug dealers had called it a night and the streets were relatively quiet. Back toward Penn Street to the next stop, the Penn Street Tavern. But what’s this?? Hare Decoy is sitting on the front stoop. Hares were promised they would be open by 7, but the pack was fleetfooted, and the bartender tied one on last night, resulting in an unexpected dip in everyone’s blood alcohol level til things were made right by a nasty shot.

The 3rd section of trail travelled upward thru the city, checks on every corner. The occasional parking garage was visited. Finally up thru City Park and up Walnut St. to the parking lot behind Beulah Ballbreaker’s crib. More Hamms...yum! But then a strange new flour marking....a Cooler Check! First hashers there had to hump the coolers to the HHH...which was located just below the Peace Rock. They grudgingly complied and a well-deserved Hamms was their reward. A blast from the past, Lick My Trunk, lumbered in....any Hasher with Advanced Lifesaving certification avoiding eye contact. Circle commenced, songs were sung, down downs awarded and an announcement.....TidyBowl and Little Man in the Boat are tying the knot!! Good luck to you two.

Circle ended with Swing Low and the out-of-towners asked...”Ummm, where are our cars”. An elbow was extended upward. You gotta climb back to them. To the left of the Peace Rock and keep going up!!

Apres was once again held at the Reifton Fire Company where a delicious breakfast buffet was provided to soak up the morning’s imbibation. And with that, the pack stumbled off to pools, picnics and a possible nap.

On On!



# 991 Who’s Your Daddy

Well here we go I'll try and remember what the hell happened. For the record I drink a fucking lot and I don't remember shit. So if you ask me to write the hash trash don't expect it in a timely fashion. I have to be reminded 57 times before i remember to do it.

 I also despise writing. In fact, the only time in my life I had to attend summer school was my senior year for English class. I simply refused to write any papers all year. I had better shit to do.  Who would have thought they were just preparing me for my adult alcoholic club. 😉

   So from what I can remember, hairs Decoy, Hog Rider, and Man Tits rounded us up at a car wash across the street from a school. Some lady showed up to wash her car and  wondered why there was a whole band of assholes hanging out in the parking lot. Anyway, we had our chalk talk and off we went, running across school property. A great place for a bunch of drunks. So we ran, and ran some more. Crossed the creek once maybe twice and ended up behind some warehouse at a beer check. I think there were shots too. We enjoyed some booze and away we went. Trail took us under a bridge and into a creek. I think I'm about the only one who actually went into the creek. The smart ones went over the bridge. Which was probably a smart move as my feet got messed up from running the rest of trail in wet sneakers. So we ran through Robesonia and ended up on some stone lane  It went on and on seemed like it was taking us to our demise at the end of some rednecks shotgun. But alas everyone survived and we arrived at another beer check, but not before arriving at a boob check. Unfortunately a few of our hashers declined to do their Duty at the boob check. But we did get to see a couple pairs of tits and there was much rejoicing. So we drank our beers down and looming in the distance was the sounds of an approaching thunderstorm. It was so God damn hot I could only wish that we would get rained upon. But of course that never happened. So off we went, sweating some more following flour that eventually took us to railroad tracks. At this point I never saw flour again. I searched for a while and finally thought fuck it and just headed off down the tracks.  Supposedly there was flour somewhere along the railroad tracks but I never saw it. So I blindly ran down the railroad tracks hoping a speeding frsight train might end my misery. I spotted some other hashers running up ahead and followed them back to the car wash where the HHH was on the ground. A few of us then gathered for a topless photo shoot while enjoying some cold beer. Then we were all off to the apres at the Robbie House. Circle commenced, many drank, and I do believe hog rider drank out of sucky suckers sneaker. We sang songs while the local bar flies tried to figure out what the hell was going on. We then enjoyed some chicken wings, french fries and cold beer and eventually everyone made their way home one way or another.


Yours Truly,
BUKKAKE 💦🤑



#990 June 11th Hash
After a long cold winter, I decided it was time to come out of hibernation. The June 11th hash began after a long Monday work day. When I arrived at circle, I discovered it would be a live trail laid by CB, Crack, and Couch...... Wtf was I thinking coming back to a hash with these 3! I should have just stayed home and drank.
Our GM formed us in a circle, looked around at a bunch of non-returning bitches, me included, and no virgins present, smart people. He called the hares out, they gave us the basic directions and even laid a turkey/eagle trail which I never did find, bastards, and off the hares went. Shocking as this may sound, I had no intentions of catching them.

The wait was over and it was time to stretch our legs. Off and up we ran, well maybe jog for me. It started off through the Home Depot parking lot, and continued as a typical hash following random spots of flour to our first beer near at Crack's crib I pulled up a patio chair and enjoyed a delicious Hamm's while you fuckers ran around to find the trail for me.

On-On was heard and it was time to get my fat ass out of the chair. Through more random streets of Berks county, where everyone knew where they were except for me. SN was found with some typical cheap whiskey. A descent down a set a rickety set of wooden steps where a bunch of you broads were hesitant to go down them. If it didn't break while I was going down them, it wasn't breaking for anyone else in this band of misfits. From there we hopped the tracks. Sucky and Hot Lips were acting out their own rendition of Stand By Me playing chicken with a dammed train! Like hashing trail isn't dangerous enough, a train had to be thrown in there.

We followed some more random dots of flour to promptly lose all trail at 422. This is where a branch off band of misfits created our own trail. Broads, Bimbos, and princesses had me walking, yes walking, through a mall parking lot until Fleshy dragged us into the woods on the#989 Why the Hell Do We Have to Name Every Hash??
The pack gathered in the Cabela’s parking lot. While some pre-lubed at Pappy T’s, others chose to enjoy the wonderments of Cabelas and shop for manly man stuff instead. Marks were explained and the virgin- Just Norm- got his dog tags (we are kindler and gentler and apparently the GM even cares that the man virgins make it back). 
We then piled in vans like prisoners and rode through the lush countryside way outside of our normal stomping grounds. Instead of being chased by unkind city folk, Reading was now in the land of the Skooks. We counted our teeth realizing that every male hasher was now a “10” in these lands... 
Off the pack went to the first beer check. From there it was straight uphill... wtf?!? This isn’t Keystone!! At the top was a shot check and a Turkey/Eagle. Of course the type A’s had already left on the Eagle. The pack divided and eagle went down the hill and back up the hill to a beer check. After meeting cougar baits Dad ( mister bait/ master bait) the pack divided among another turkey/ eagle. More trail and mostly bushwhacking but this time back down to the on-in. 
ToeFU led another glorious circle and we packed back into the vans like illegals trying to cross back over the Berks county border. We were treated with apres at the new brewery in Hamburg, 1787. Awesome beer that is way too good for us hashers but that’s the only way the hares were going to erase our memories of how many times we ran up and down that Mountain.
Hashily ever after- Optopussy (who was not assigned to do this but isn’t sure if Packs em in the rear knows how to read or write so she did it for him..)
 side of the road. Finally, circle, give me a fucking beer!

The non-returners were called and called into circle. Many down-downs and our GM forcing I Love Boobies socks and registration for 34DD Camp Out down our throats.

Thanks to our hares for such a shitty trail. I'll remember not to be a non-returner on your trails. Until next time fuckers....

TINY and Bim.


#989 Why the Hell Do We Have to Name Every Hash??


The pack gathered in the Cabela’s parking lot. While some pre-lubed at Pappy T’s, others chose to enjoy the wonderments of Cabelas and shop for manly man stuff instead. Marks were explained and the virgin- Just Norm- got his dog tags (we are kindler and gentler and apparently the GM even cares that the man virgins make it back). 
We then piled in vans like prisoners and rode through the lush countryside way outside of our normal stomping grounds. Instead of being chased by unkind city folk, Reading was now in the land of the Skooks. We counted our teeth realizing that every male hasher was now a “10” in these lands... 
Off the pack went to the first beer check. From there it was straight uphill... wtf?!? This isn’t Keystone!! At the top was a shot check and a Turkey/Eagle. Of course the type A’s had already left on the Eagle. The pack divided and eagle went down the hill and back up the hill to a beer check. After meeting cougar baits Dad ( mister bait/ master bait) the pack divided among another turkey/ eagle. More trail and mostly bushwhacking but this time back down to the on-in. 
ToeFU led another glorious circle and we packed back into the vans like illegals trying to cross back over the Berks county border. We were treated with apres at the new brewery in Hamburg, 1787. Awesome beer that is way too good for us hashers but that’s the only way the hares were going to erase our memories of how many times we ran up and down that Mountain.
Hashily ever after- Optopussy (who was not assigned to do this but isn’t sure if Packs em in the rear knows how to read or write so she did it for him..)




# 988 Kegs and Eggs Hash
Sorry - I’m a little late on submitting this hash trash, but I do believe I’ve heard someone say “better late than pregnant” and that’s real talk.So here it goes...
Our Kegs and Eggs hash started with the PreLube at Liberty Taproom. After a lady hasher left her stamp in the bathroom, we all piled into cars and headed to the lot at Francesca’s to circle up for the On On...and some fresher air. Side note: Damn that was a lot of people stuffed into a jeep! Quick circle, no virgins and into the woods we went…Everyone stuck together on trail for a bit in the beginning but some were a little more eager to go down and finish so we split.Everyone missed the Brass Monkey at the first beer check. That’s unfortunate. A little bit of that could have been in each and every one of our mouths!We came out of the woods on Hill Road just in time to yell “sorry ‘bout your penis!” to a passing motorist who was clearly over compensating. After getting back on trail in the woods, we descended this ridiculous busted set of steps. Steps that only I have feet tiny enough to get proper footing on. Have no fear, shots were near! We came across the half full bottle of what I assume was vodka & oj. It was at this point that we realized the other group had cum through already. For some reason we all took turns drinking from the same damn cup, even though we had 4…sharing is caring! Back out of the woods and into the city with OJ bottle in hand!Apparently, there was a popsicle check: some got some, some didn’t. I heard someone couldn’t “handle the big one”.We ran down random streets, through a sketchy homeless camp – complete with a dude napping, down more random streets and arrived at Sofrito's. A circle was formed, tacos were eaten, beer was chugged, songs were sung, and good times were had.Thanks for the trail, Foot Fairy and Crack!
Just Michelle

#987 Whores N More
Our esteemed hare Dances with Whores started off on his trek to live hare this trail as we began introductions. We gave the hare about 69 additional seconds and then off we went. The flour led us up the hill into the park and behind the abandoned tennis courts, down the Thun trail. We could alomost taste the beer as we proceeded to run right past a favorite local watering hole, Trooper Thorns, without a single BN in sight. We continued to run through the beautiful nature center at Angelica park, but still no beer. Then we came upon a mountain that we were apparently expected to summit in our quest for beer. At the top of the this mountain was a cache of our finest hash swill. In the meantime the walkers were treated to their own cache of swill at the bottom of the hill. Then we continued down the other side of the hill, proceeded through the campus of Alvernia, without encountering a single wayward nun. After several blocks on the road we came to Oakbrook brewing company where we were treated to some of the best hash beer many of us have ever encountered and several harriets attempted to pick up a few studly firefighters. We continued on our way when some half-minds were asked by a local why we were running and responded "for beer" she tried to hand her baby off to someone else so she could join in the fun. The trail led back to the the parking lot where we had all left our iron-chariots. We quickly hustled the beer into the woods while screaming make way for the beer to remain inconspicuous to any law enforcement that may be in the area. We found the prefect syringe-laden, tick-infested, poison ivy free clearing in the woods to hold circle. Circle finally commenced and 69% of the kennel was made to drink for lack of boobie sock ownership. The entire kennel seemed to have difficulty with the concept of wearing headgear in circle because the offenses were numerous. Accusations were made, and down-downs were consumed. The details of the #1000 campout were shared once again. We sang our farewell song and proceeded to the Apres at Mimmo's.

GladHeAteHer



#986 Red Dress Hash
On August 7, 1987, a young lady flew from Tucson Arizona to Southern California to visit an old friend. When the plane landed she found her luggage lost, and there she was -- in a red dress and heels. Undaunted, she and her SoCal friend headed off to meet up with his fellow runners -- a group called “hashers”. Upon arrival in Long Beach, one hasher, noting her gender and attire, suggested she “Just Wait In the Truck”. Not one to play by the rules, she headed off on trail in red dress and heels and ran into history. A year later, the San Diego Hash got together, paid for another round-trip ticket for her, and the Red Dress Hash was born!.
Thirty (30) years later, and thanks to inspiration from a couple oldbies a few years ago (I’m looking at YOU, Sack-O-Shit & Tuna) Reading’s Red Dress Hash was revived, and as sure as the ticks return to the forests of PA in March, the Red Dress Hash occurs like clockwork every May.
This year, the pack once again started from the NorthEnd Rod & Gun Club -- where the staff is friendly, the beers are cold, and the locals are frightened.
After a brief check-in beer, our hares sent us off on a journey through the North Side of Reading. And you know, what’s safer than running through some rather sketchy neighborhoods wearing a red dress? (Well… i guess NOT running through those same neighborhoods at all). And when the civilians, capturing your winning stride on their cellphone cameras ask what you’re up to… you can choose from “Running For Beer” and “Running For Boobs” as your stock response.
The first stop for the pack was the Cafe Waldorf -- where an etched glass window of a topless mermaid gave my red dress a decided bulge. Meanwhile the locals posed for pics with the bimbos, praying to God above that they ACTUALLY were posing with a woman, and not one of them ‘gender-fluid’ types. A jaunt across the CenterPark neighborhood brought us to the “Grill Then Chill” Bar. Which...Okay, so what the hell was with the raised dias with chairs, and what’s with the Grill THEN Chill. What if I need to chill first, so I don’t have digestive problems when I decide to Grill?
Finally -- our little band of red-dressed warriors sasheyed over to my favorite place, La Rienda Mexicano (which -- when my great-grandfather used to walk home from working at the Reading Company back in the early 1900’s was likely called “Shamus’s Harp” or “Kelly’s” or some shit like that). What more can I say about La Rienda, but -- Mexican fucking cowboys, smoke machines, deer heads, and a fucking laser show. If this doesn’t become our new casa away from casa, what well ever be? We just need to get the Modelo replaced with Hamms, and make sure there’s a mug with Foot’s name engraved in it, and we’re Good.To.Go.
After posing for pictures on the street with the bars owners (and taking in a couple calls from some of the locals of “Putas, ese es mi rincón. Despejar antes de llamar a mi proxeneta!” ) we kept on moving up 9th Street to return to Dips. Foot, Bad, Jungle & Buelah flagged down a passing motorist and compelled him (with the threat of a look up Bad’s dress) to give them a chevy-shortcut back to the On-ON.
Meanwhile back at the farm, we circled up, had a kick-ass auction, and then a quick naming (Just Kim is now ‘Gone Colioni’ )!
Thanks to the hares, the patient folks at Dips, and all those people who posted pics of us on social media across Latin America.

Decoy


#985 Cunto de Mayo

Cunto de Mayo... se conoce formalmente como Cinco de Mayo, el día de la independencia mexicana... o quizás no. Su día de la independencia es el 16 de septiembre, pero bueno nos da los norteamericanos un día para celebrar nuestra herencia americana-mexicana. Sabes, las contribuciones realmente importantes como tequila, corona, gran culo sombreros sombreros llamados y no nos olviden de tacos. Tacos de pescado por supuesto ser el mejor. Así como todos los americanos en este día México celebramos con un hash. Nos reunimos en la torre del fuego donde algunos afortunados hashers recibieron el don del vuelo. La ventaja fue evidente como deslizaba a lo largo mientras que el resto luchaba por mantener el ritmo. Lamentablemente, una pequeña hada se perdió pero encontró su camino a casa. Después de asegurarse de todas tienes baño maravillosas naturalezas, tuvimos círculo en un sótano y lo más maravilloso ha pasado... ¡Fue nombrado NOT TWAT! Un par de hashes demostró su habilidad de supervivencia en la que nos muestra cómo hacer líquido fuera un cactus. Alimentos fue devorado y bebidas vertieron nuestras gargantas como un final para una gran celebración y hash.


Now....in English...


Cunto de Mayo..... formally known as Cinco de Mayo, the Mexican Independence Day...or maybe not. Their Independence Day is September 16, but HEY it gives us Americans a day to celebrate our American-Mexican heritage. You know, the really really important contributions like tequila, corona, big ass hats called sombreros, and let’s not forget tacos. Fish tacos of course being the best. So like every American on this Mexican day we celebrated with a hash. We gathered at the fire tower where some lucky hashers were given the gift of flight. The advantage was obvious as they glided over the course while the rest struggled to keep pace. Sadly, one little fairy got lost but he found his way home. After making sure we all got natures wonderful bath, we had circle in a basement and the most wonderful thing happened.... NOT TWAT was named!!!!!!!! A couple of hashes demonstrated their survival skill in showing us how to get liquid out of a cactus. Food was devoured and drinks poured down our throats as an ending to a great celebration and hash.



Johnson OTS

#984 The Type AA Hash
Apparently I'm hash trash. Oh! And I'm supposed to write something about hashing. Here goes...
It all started in the middle of the woods, next to a mountain, with an overabundance of good beer and an AA...kind of like every Keystone H3 trail. Luckily, unlike Keystone, there were more than 2 of us ready to chase Cougar Bait and AA up the mountain. I imagine it had something to do with not having to wake up at dawn.
Anyway we were informed that there were three beer checks, a J check and a special Foot Fairy check that would ensure him some of the lovely craft beer provided by our hares. The hares set off into the trees throwing flour into the air and that was the last we saw of them until the on in. (Type AAs.) After a few minutes, the pack was off. We followed the little white dots while dodging briars, hurdling downed trees and branches and generally trying not to lose an eye or be impaled by the various sticks and debris flying from all directions.
Everyone made it to the first beer check without much trouble. (Don't worry. The blood and pain is coming.) We were made to down those good beers and w*ter far too fast as some overachievers decided to leave without so much as a sip. And so we were off again, with many an "RU?" and now some steeper climbs.
The trail would inevitably continue to go up and start us on a death march to the top of the ridge. I heard someone lament that they were not looking forward to going down. You type As are strange creatures. I love going down!
On this hellish hill, we ran into the J check which was happily run back down the hill to the DFL by a lightly prancing Kitten Mittens. Somewhere after that a "rule breaker" named NFB found Foot Fairy's special check. I'm pretty sure that FF didn't get his beloved beer, but I was too busy dying of thirst and burning thighs to pay attention.
At the top of the ridge is where the shenanigans truly began. A good portion of the pack took an easy trail down the other side while 10 or so brave souls actually followed flour to the second beer check. The rest of us picked up trail at the bottom as our hares had excessively floured the trees in the distance.
More shiggy, more hills, more barely runnable terrain until we came to the third beer check at the base of a hobo's rock lair. The hares met us there and, sadly, we learned we'd missed some beverages. All of that was quickly forgotten as we dug into a cooler of ice cold Troeg's.
Little did we know that this would also be where the HHHs would be laid. In fact, the hares drew more blood and confusion as we all stumbled off to find the trail back to the cars. I managed to end up in a thicket of briars as an amused AA and Cougar Bait looked out over the chaos from their lofty perch.
Finally, the majority of the pack managed to figure out that the HHHs were back at the rocks and proceeded to prelube for circle as we waited for the dedicated few who actually follow trail.
After a wonky circle on a bunch of slanted rocks, we were forced to walk back to our cars over, you guessed it, another hill. At the on after, booze and wings were amply supplied at the Railroad Tavern...or whatever the name was...I had partaken in too many IPAs.
Thanks, Cougar Bait and AA, for a great trail and for not making me drink Hamms! Thanks to Reading for, as always, the hospitality and great company!
(Come play with us at the Keystone in May! I hear it's another Type AA trail. 🙂 )
Gilligan, the Skipper Too


#983 Type B Hash
So today I get nominated for hash trash....like I have any idea what the hell I’m doing on trail much less writing about it... well here goes..
It all started on a shitty, cold dreary day on Marlin Ave. Kennel takes off toward Penn Ave to find a “SF” in the old Golden parking lot. As we all meander around aimlessly for a bit, we decide to head back toward the On On. Around back and through the yards we go, to be confronted by a disgrundled neighbor. (Although disgrundled may be an understatement). For those of us on the back end, we had to go around for fear we would piss him off even more. By the time we reached the first beer stop, the kennel was ready to move on. On we go behind the Jesuit Center and up toward the cemetery to be met by the PO PO. Mr. Disgrundled called the Po Po so they came hunting us down in the cemetery. ToeFU spoke his wisdom to assure the officer we were all upstanding citizens running for a cause. So off through the cemetery we continue back toward the On On. By this time, there were 3 Po Po cars and the disgrundled neighbor following us, watching our every move. Hashers split up around the development to look for trail while some headed black to the On On to partake in beverage. Circle convened, shots were downed, 3 virgins lost their cherries, songs were sung and ToeFU was bukkakied.
Shitty weather, shitty trail but fun had by all. (Well, maybe not the neighbor)
Thanks Breast and Hot lips.
Just Kim


#982 The Vimy Ridge Hash

So I woke up Monday morning on April 9th.  
Super crazy stoked that it was a hash night.

Deciphering the hash lingo, I noticed a Canadian theme.
So I rolled up some maple leaves and they smoked like a dream.

It had been forever, since I attended a hash.
So I was there good & early with my Canadian cash.

The pre-lube changed and I was already lost!
But got over that quick with a pint of boom-boom sauce.

The circle was quick and we were off in a jiffy.
And immediately after, the trail got shitty.

Down the road, quick on my feet.
I'm pretty darn sure we're heading to Canal Street.

Canadian beers at the BN... well that makes sense.
But I'm sure we're heading to Canal street before this ends.

Ninth street to Laurel Street, we're not that far!!
We're totally heading to Canal Street Bar.

Just like my buzz, all the hashers were gone.
and I found myself on 3rd street, scouting alone.

So now I'm somewhere between 4th and Pearl.
And who do I see?  Exploited College Girl!

With a mighty thirst and a sense of defeat.
I ask ExCoGi,  "wanna go to Canal Street?"

Yes, we missed the circle, the apre', and all that shit...
But fun was still had, going "out for a rip!"
Peace & Love you Wanks!
Bones



#981 Hairy Palms Hash
Near the end of the trail yesterday, Choo Choo politely told me that it was MY turn to write the hash trash for the Hairy Palms trail. I said "Shit Choo Choo, I’ll try, but I think I may have enjoyed too many hazy beers already". Here goes…
On a chilly Sunday, the pack circled in, you guessed it, a school yard. After a very short circle, the Foot Fairy took off to begin laying a live-ish trail. This marks the second time in as many weeks the hares choose to man up and attempt live haring. As the pack finished their beers, Bukkake decided to relieve himself on the side a what looked like a rundown school maintenance building. However, the target of his urine was in fact a neighbor’s home. Luckily, the gun toting landowner was none-the-wiser and Bukkake scurried away unharmed and smiling from ear to ear.
After 8 or so minutes, the pack scampered away, following freshly laid pink flour. As usual, the pack split up in two or three groups. I did witness some uphill running, but the guilty will be protected. All three packs merged together again near the water tank and manage to find the bottle of honey whiskey. Cougar and myself passed on this shot due to the aforementioned hazy beer intake. From the shot stop, trail was located mainly by zen’ing up the mountain until we found flour that was placed the day before. Down the mountain we went until we located ToeFU’s mobile beer stop. As always, delicious Hamm’s was <enjoyed> consumed. Leaving the BN, we headed towards Antietam, lost trail from there, and then re-located it just before heading into Confederate Flag hell in the trailer park...crossed a creek deep enough to perform a belly flop, and then to a driveway with HHH displayed. Unbeknownst to Bushwacker, the circle was hosted by her. During circle, Bushwacker's’neighbors must have been tired of hearing us, so they angrily revved their engines in hopes of drowning us out.
After circle ended, a few A-type assholes decided to run back to the school, while others risked life and limb piling into random vehicles for a ride to the end. When the A-types returned to the school, we noticed Bushwacker, who had lent a trustworthy hasher her spare car to bring tired souls back to the school, looking for a volunteer to drive her car back to her house. However, since the car had a manual transmission, volunteers were few and far between. I ended up driving her WRX back to her house. Noteworthy, it’s really fun slamming gears, spinning tires, and drifting corners in someone else’s rally cross car. Après was at Klinger’s, where beers were consumed, food was devoured, recliners on bar tops were abused, and drama ensued.

Analholics Anonymous



#980 Kiss Me, I'm Still Shit-Faced


Hares: Casting Couch, Old News, Hare Today Cum Tomorrow
Today, $7 bought you trail, beer and a very inappropriate T-shirt. It was, however, a great cheatsheet for composing this Hash Trash. Well marked trail started through the woods at Hampden Park and then led through the streets of our beautiful city. From local meth tents to multiple back alley’s, I have never missed my rape whistle more. Multiple spectators were sprinkled throughout the trail, but if you do not speak Spanish, you had no idea what they were cheering. There was 1 shot stop and 3 bars. Multiple pitchers were drunk but in poor Hash form, some were left unenjoyed. The last bar stop was a breathe of fresh air as it offered some local color, shuffle board and free lung cancer. HHH was found at Northeast Middle School.

Trail was followed by a brief fashion show of discovered trail treasures by Bushwacker. As opposed to imbibing at a local middle school, circle was smartly moved back to Hampden Park. The menu included beer, leftover mini bottles, Lucky charms, Peeps, and Cheese Puffs. What more could you ask for? After 20 minutes of the out of towners and hares drinking we ended Circle with the incredible show of the previously known as Just Lisa slowly chugging beer from her new footwear. She was ultimately rewarded with being named, Exploited College Girl, aka Excogi. Still don’t know the exact story that inspired this naming but hope to hear it soon.

Prelube and after drinks were consumed at Johnny & Hons and Northeast Taproom, respectively. I unfortunately could not attend, as my liver had raised its white flag hours ago at the bike bar crawl.

On-On
Just Kate (with some help from Exploited College Girl)




#979 Mystery Hash


Choo Choo asked me to write hash trash for today’s trail. Mystery Hash and a half? Trail was definitely a mystery for a lot of us. Even Scooby Doo wouldn’t have been able to find the elusive markings. Let me just say that after running the same Ridge with Legal Easy, Breast Stroker, Toe Fu, and Cougar Bait four times in search for marks, Egg and I decided that it wasn’t Ground Hog’s day so we said, “Fuck it, let’s go back to the bar!” There we found a few other hashers who opted for the same path back to Coach Light. We car hashed to the witch’s hat, which indeed was colder than a witch’s tit. Ergo to create a wind shield, we were joyfully ensconced in a shrink wrap circle. The highlight of circle bondage came with the naming of our beloved Boocockey ("Bukkake"....ToeFU spellcheck). May he enjoy face fulls of splooge from now till forever more. Songs sung, pizza eaten, down downs downed, the herd returned to the Coach Light for beers, shots and soul food. That’s all I got.

Feel free to add your take on today’s trail.

With love,

Wants It Bad




#978 Why the Fuck Not 

I'll tell you why...

As our hares started us at the Brownsville Fire Co., they gave us a choice of an eagle or turkey. So like a dumb ass, I took the turkey trail. We got to the bottom of the hill and had some words written on the ground. “Go up the hill 4 time” So as hashers, this meant to do 4 loops, then go up the hill. Why the fuck not? Because we are half minds, Tidy and I ( Swamp) went clockwise while everybody else went counter clockwise. We met in the middle of the loop and drank beer at the check. Lap 2 now starting, Tidy and I picked up the beer and made a roving beer check. After 2 laps we said this sucks, so fuck it. Went up the hill to the HHH and told the hares not to write messages to us, because we don't think with a full mind. The trail never went in circles, but us half minds thought that was the right thing to do.

So Shitty Trail.
Swamp



#977 Year of the Dog Hash


Well, prelube was as shaylor (not as good as Oakbrook but then again I might be biased). Some of the lady hashers tried on new haberdashery with spectators and the beer began to flow which made most of us late to circle. That’s ok, we had no idea what was going on even when we got there. Why? Trail was laid with quick oats by How Long in melting snow. So, we couldn’t see it or understand it. He could have at least provided a translator and used Old Fashion Rolled Oats.

How Long told us to start from the football stadium.... He really meant soccer quarry . From then on it was a oat hunt, agreeably beneficial for the wildlife but not for hashing. Through Wyomissing Park we went. 10 deer, a beer near, a skunked vagina shot squeezed from a used condom wrapper, a few snowballs and a bag of cheese curls later we circled back at the Trading Post.
Did I mention the hare followed us, the whole trail, with oats.... yelling his own on-on? Opto was prepared for at least an 8miler with pockets of granola bars. She clearly was over fed and under worked.
Circle had minimal accusations yet there seemed to be a lot of headgear and at least 1/4 of us were out of towners. Weird. On after was at Paolos graced with Fat Tire, Troegs Perpetual, pizza and candy hearts.
There were no fucking dogs on trail, until circle where we chanted KONA ....thanks Crack!
Year of the Dog is going to be awful if this shitty trail was any example of what we have to look forward to.
On-on
Great Way to Die


You want a prediction about the weather? You're asking the wrong Phil. I'm going to give you a prediction about this winter? It's going to be cold, it's going to be dark and it's going to last you for the rest of your lives! -- Phil Connors


Annual GroundHogs Day Hash
 -- Hash #776 in the year of our GM Toh Foo.
All hail The Foo.
Royal Slayer of Foot Fungus.
Imperial Conquerer of HammerToe.
Lord of Corrective Footwear.
Huzzah Huzzah Huzzah

And with the early February snow turning to rain and the rain turning the fallen snow to slush, in turn making the trails and streets seem like open-air sewers, we embarked on yet another of the annual excursions known as ‘Ground Hog Day Hash’.   Over the years, the annual GroundHog day has evolved into a ritualistic hashing exercise that has the pack retrace their steps and re-run trail in the hopes of change.  Some great memories made over the years -- the haberdashery, the introduction of Drunxatawney Bill to the Reading area, and of course the time one of our hashers threatened to visit the hare’s home and shit in his mouth, so pleased was she with the hashpatality she was shown.  Over the years, the annual GroundHog day has evolved into a ritualistic hashing exercise that has the pack retrace their steps and re-run trail in the hopes of change.  Some great memories made over the years -- the haberdashery, the introduction of Drunxatawney Bill to the Reading area, and of course the time one of our hashers threatened to visit the hare’s home and shit in his mouth, so pleased was she with the hashpatality she was shown.  Over the years, the annual GroundHog day has evolved into a ritualistic hashing exercise that has the pack retrace their steps and re-run trail in the hopes of change.  Some great memories made over the years -- the haberdashery, the introduction of Drunxatawney Bill to the Reading area, and of course the time one of our hashers threatened to visit the hare’s home and shit in his mouth, so pleased was she with the hashpatality she was shown.

So if you can’t figure it out -- there’s a theme to this hash where we do the same shit over and over.  We who hash on the day of the earth pig are like those who do not learn from history and are damned to repeat it.  Or, to put it in a more transactionally understandable way --  Where else can you get repeatedly fucked times for only $5.00?

But this was to be a different Ground Hogs Day -- what with the Eagles 3rd attempt at a Superbowl championship scheduled for the evening, and the fact that the ever-changing weather was turning the hares’ venue of choice into more of a liability than an asset, this years’ repeated pack-fucking was shortened just a wee bit to the relief of all involved.

The pack met at Antietam HS.  Absent virgins, we were told to just get our asses out on trail with very little instruction or reverie.   Hashing up to Antietam Lake, the pack found trail marking that scaled the dam spillway, and trail then ascended to a cornfield shot check (yummy), back down to the dam and across the creek, up and over to Polly’s Love Shack for a quick BC.   The trail went ON-Down Pollys ice-glazed driveway that lacked only the telltale propane smell to assure us that the Zamboni had properly prepared it for our arrival.  Then another stream crossing, yet another shot check, and a YBF.  The pack headed back up to Pollys, had a brief circle in the garage (after ex-GM Fudge attempted to give us all a rather nasty case of CO2 poisoning.

In the spirit of true Reading Hashpatality we were told our cars were 2 miles away and we should find our way back on our own, and then head over to Francescas for Zah and Beer.  There, we found the smarter hashers -- aka, the ones who skipped trail.  Beers were emptied, pizzas were consumed...in other words we repeated history yet again.   In other words we repeated history yet again.  In other words we repeated history yet again.  In other words we repeated history yet again.  In other words we repeated history yet again.  In other words we repeated history yet again.

Shitty Hash.

ON-ON

Decoy


#975 Virginal Sacrifice Hash


A gathering occurs at the Pike Café to warm up our drinking muscles with some pre-run beers. Our virgin hares are present, one happens to be celebrating a birthday and is already feeling no pain at all. Beers flow and we retreat to our cars to head to the On-On, and someone forgot to pay their tab…

As circle commences, we are introduced to additional hashing virgins, our hares, the usual flour marks and a general erection which we all know is going to lead to Mt. Penn. Everyone is off to a quick start to attempt to warm up after standing in a cold circle. As expected, trail leads us for the wooded Mt. Penn, with a true trail mark confirming our suspicions. Before we make it to the wood line, Quarterstick is already finding his trail treasure, a random box of goodies and a spare tire. Shortly into the trail, our first check. At the base of that mountain, where else would trail go??? So we split up and headed vertical, only to find our hares, being virgins at laying trail, have yet to figure out where trail should have gone. The small band of wankers that headed up had a great vantage point of everyone else actually running the trail which obviously did not go up the mountain. We also noticed how quiet all those trail followers were. The only hollering of On-On we could hear was from Foot letting us know he was still with us up on the mountain, dick move but we found humor in it.

Eventually the small band of us that took the tour of the mountain conceded that there was no flour up there and wasn’t going to be today, so we descended upon the city of Reading hoping for a BN at the Northeast Taproom. Go figure, another virgin trail laying mistake, no beer there. Dejected and thirsty, but of course not ready to give up, we spread out and covered an 8 block wide swath of streets and alleys and headed on in search of flour. About 10 blocks later, we found our prize, and a large pack of fellow hashers. Trail proceeded through school athletic fields, parking lots, a little shiggy, a nice false up an icy drainage culvert, and under an overpass to a check. Above the check was a sick prank…a soft-sided cooler full of ice and FLOUR but no BEER! Our virgins made up for this though, as the beer was only a couple hundred yards further up the hill in a parking lot. Finally refreshed (I know, our own fault for missing the first champagne stop for being where trail should have been instead of where it really was) we were again off in search of flour. More blacktop pounded until we followed trail around Bernhart Reservoir to another refreshment stop. Nothing like a little Hot Sex on a cold day to keep you going. Back on trail, heading for the Crab Barn and perhaps now up onto Mt. Penn? Nope, just a teaser of the mountain on an icy road access followed by a trail of shiggy before dropping back onto the pavement. A short little jog from there put us back at the virgins house and the HHH. The hares earn some kudo’s here, a warm fire and good cold beer awaited us, and Just Lisa was still upright! While our hares did well, our virgin hasher of the day failed miserably while drinking wine and complaining of our shenanigans in circle. Beer was drank, songs were sung, and Just Jane was named! Congratulations Jane U Ignorant Slut You (JUISY)!!

Thanks to Just Kevin and Just Lisa for opening the house to our band of crazies, and for the beverages and spread of food. We did finally make it to the beer we were expecting at the Northeast Taproom, Just Lisa has 28 more b-day smacks on the ass to go, and at some point I’m sure that the fur hat will again make an appearance!


Get ready for Ground Hogs day bitches!!! See you there!

Cougar





#974 Cuddle Me Drunk

Despite dire predictions of imminent frostbite, 20some intrepid hashers ventured to the frozen wastelands of Kutztown for a bit of fresh air. Foot and company declared a Pre Pre at Saucony Creek, while Wrong Way Just Kevin and squeeze sat at the Tavern across the street from the designated Pre, wondering where everyone was?? Several Rogue North hashers, including their infamous leader Sex-a-Sketch, were able to find the correct watering hole effortlessly. All forces finally gathered at the K’town Pub, just in time to shuffle off to the On On. Again, confusion was the theme of the day, as no one seemed quite sure which parking lot was the correct one. 

There was a bit of a snap to the air, so yours truly skipped the formalities and let the hares ‘splain their trail as quickly as possible. Off the pack went, crunching across the tundra. Egg Fucker and Wants It Bad did a 180 and autohashed to the Apres, the location of which had been carelessly divulged by a hapless server. Wants’ excuse for not doing trail was a claimed vein stripping, but smart money is that she finally got those ass cheek implants she’d been longing. 

Meanwhile, back on trail, we followed an intermittent spattering of beige flour, highly optical against the beige salt crusted sidewalks and streets. The hares saw no problem turning trail 90 degrees at intersections with nary a check. We slide into a cozy driveway for our first BN slushy. Then down the alley, hook a left and back into the park. There we found GladHeAteHer, along with a thermos of hot chocolate, several high octane additives and an air mattress located in the dugout. The last explained the curious marks at the On On....it was a Cuddle Check. I was first to test the comfort of the mattress, followed quickly and cumulatively by a half dozen or so of my bestest hashing buddies. The air temp and the dozen or so layers of clothing everyone wore assured no penetration. We eventually rolled out of bed and scurried on to the HHH, located in a park pavilion. Here, with winds reduced to under 30mph, we held an abridged circle, while those of us with remote vehicle start features assured our rides were a comfy temp on entry . 

Apres was, as promised, Saucony Creek where tasty beverages and flatbreads warmed our cockles. Rumors of namings were obviously unfounded as we departed to our various Saturday night drinking ventures. 

I think I can finally feel my ....

ToeFU



#973 The New Year's Hash

Hares: Flashwound, Just Jane

I end up writing again the hash trash of another fucking freezing and windy day, the first of the New Year.

We, all wankers gathered at Lower Heidelberg Elementary with our asses almost frozen seeping beer before it turns into ice.

The local cop showed up to make sure we do not drink too much from the start. Obviously he did not know that many of us started with pre-lube long ago.

Fudge Packer filled in for the Grand Master who went to Utah looking for snow and cold weather when he could have found it here.

We started with the circle to introduce the virgins and by tradition we welcome them with “we do not give a shit if you get lost”. Ginger Snatch took care of her new virgin that doesn’t get lost first time.

The general erection was pointing to the woods and the colorful pack start running. The nice shitty trail was warming up everybody. With smiles on our frozen faces we soon arrive at a beer stop that most of the group skipped.

Bugle boy was keeping the pack together. The next stop was a nice warming sweet cider served by Praying Man Tits. From here the pack splits.

Legal Easy, a natural born tracker quickly found the on-on markings and crossed the HHH finish mark ahead of everybody.

NFB was wondering solo and happy smiling in the woods looking for the signs he does not believe in anyway. We end up on the road and we found the true trail mark but for NFB doesn’t mean shit because he always can find his own trail.

We celebrate in circle around wood burning fire with many down-downs for the hares, bold guys, birthdays and Tidy Bowl - Little Man in the Boat engagement.

Soon we were ready for the Paradise by the Slice to indulge with beer, pizza and wings. Great time for the start of the year.

On-On
Shrinkage



#972 The Boilo Hash

We gathered at Mikes Tavern..one of my favorite little dive bars for there annual Boilo night competition. Circle was short and sweet, no introductions. The pack found trail and headed out towards Riverside elementary where we all lost trail...still not sure who eventually found trail but eventually we all wound up running up Centre Ave and following trail to a shot stop on the railroad  property where we probably weren't supposed to be. Just Kevin did show just a little bit of concern that Just Lisa was nowhere in site...eventually she did show up right about the same time a railroad employee pulled up and our bike hasher Turtle had to explain what a bunch of people running away from him were actually 
doing gathering on railroad property. From there myself, and a few others lost trail and wound up just making our way back to Mike's, where we were joined by the others who did find trail. No on after circle as by now the little bar was becoming pretty crowded. From this point after my memory becomes a little blurred thanks to sampling way to much Boilo!! Two things I think i do remember are Choo Choo maybe leaving without paying for her Moscow Mule ...not for lack of trying though... and those of us that stayed for the duration got to watch Crack wash every glass that Mike's owns!! Another great Boilo Hash for sure!! 

On Out, Old News


 #971 Santa Fucks The Hash


First of all, who the hell was dumb enough to ask Just Kevin to write the Hash Trash for the most wonderful Hash of the year? He can barely spell his name or remember what he did yesterday even when he hasn’t been heavily drinking. So here is Just Lisa with one more thing on her to do list during the busiest week ever.

Pre-Lube was at Berk’s most over-priced beer bar, good old Liberty Tap Room where Quicken is always kind enough to let me know that we spend the majority of our paychecks here and have exceeded our food and alcohol budget by 100%.  At least they usually have good beer and it was enjoyable to watch the Hashers roll in with their festive outfits.
After a few beers, up to the fire tower we go! Not only was pre-lube over-priced but so was the Hash! $20 f-ing dollars and all we got was a beer koozy and a bottle opener (fine it was pretty cool) oh and lots of good beer and French fries but we will get to that later.
Two virgins were thrown into the circle to be prepared to get Fucked. Amazingly they are still our friends, since we were the ones who brought them. Red and green clad Hashers everywhere. Our hare NFB must have stock in an orthopedic surgery business because I am pretty sure he tried not just to fuck us but actually kill us or at least break some important bones. Trail started with us jumping the stone barrier on Skyline Drive and down the snow covered rocks and steep terrain we go. I personally ass sledded most of the way down that. Luckily for someone I am relatively new and am still learning names but you completely bit it first thing on the way down.
Finally some runnable but snow covered trail. We never make it all the way down the mountain but just up and up and down on snow covered mountain. Finally a BN! Hot cider for everyone. Then off we go again more up and down through the snow. I am directionally challenged so I can’t actually tell you where we went or what “trails” we were on. A yucky Jagger shot was the second BN.
Finally we come up one last steep shitty hill and we see glorious alcohol. Everyone finally makes it to the top and our typical rowdy circle commences. Snowballs are thrown, songs are sung, beer is drank, and penises shrank.
Then off to the Apre  at Decarlo’s where the fun really starts. Chicken wings! French Fires! Open Bar! Santa! Songs! Elves! Gifts! Condoms being blown up on Hasher’s heads.
Can’t wait to get Fucked by Santa again next year!
On On
-Just Lisa



#970 Twat the Nite before Hashmas

Twat the night before Hashmas and all through the town all the hashers were stirring with not a frown. The beer was placed on the tables with care in hopes that drunkenness would soon be there.

The hashers were nestled all snug at the bar, as visions of frothy beers danced from afar. And the hares with the flour and us ready to go had just settled down for a nice winter’s snow. When out on the street arose such a clatter as hashers stumbles ...with teeth that chattered.
Down the road we ran shouting without dismay until we figured out we went the wrong way. With more yelling and bellowing we climbed back to the bar, just trying to stay on par. All beat this time we went across road but only end up sorrowed.
Thinking they were smarter, NFB and Johnson took off up the hill only to come in last to get their fill. Back out the pack went for another round and to come on in with one mighty bound. Down downs were served and beers were drank until everyone had a nice full tank.

God bless us every one,

Johnson On The



#969- Backyard Bully Hash Trash


Over the powerline, through the woods

To Great Way to Die’s house we go;
At the back check today, no one knew the way,
So everyone scattered, running to and fro!

Over the powerline, through the woods

Up and down “7 Bitches” we go,
Following Foot and Old News, we missed all the booze
Though we saw the Captain Morgan below.

Over the powerline, through the woods

We turned right when we should have stayed straight.
A mile out of the way, we were led quite astray
With not a spot of flour for us to locate!

Over the powerline, through the woods

At last, a passerby we did spot!
He pointed us back to the trail (too bad he didn’t have ale)
Oh, what we would have done for a shot!

Over the powerline, through the woods

Finally found our way back to circle
Gets Paid for Oral was named, and that name was explained
(…And I just realized no words rhyme with circle.)

Over the powerline, through the woods

At the après, much smoked meat we ate.
The beers were down downed, and we all stood around
‘Til we realized it had gotten quite late.

Over the powerline, through the woods

At last it was time to get gone.
So we all said farewell, and I’ll see you in hell
If I don’t see you at the next On On!

-Just Julia



#968: You Only Die Twice!


Hanging out on the East Side of Reading, near the Best Titty Bar Ever, was the Prelube at Island Pizza in Douglassville, PA.


Sucks It IN and Great Way to Die decided to embark on Douglassville, near the Best Titty Bar Ever, collected us all to start at what looked like an abandoned farm, in reality a Motocross training Facility. Parking was near the abandoned looking home, the actual start was up a long ass hill but we all made i...t .


Al lil mud and some awesome trails lead us up and around into Monocacy Park. Beer and whiskey was the drink of the day. Spotting a couple of teenagers, ToeFU agreed to carry the whiskey out, Hmmm, Genuine concern!


Discovering the Fuck You, head back to the start, we turned around and headed back to the start. With lots of brilliant minds we found the trail heading in the opposite direction and flour was marginally placed. On On.
After heading back into the woods, the trail became a stinky, muddy, shitty, with lots and lots of pickers and shiggy. Good times were being had by all, I heard some cursing, oh wait that was me! Ginger, Sucky and myself found a road. It was a long road, a very very very long road.


Up and down hills er ran, alas, Roids drove by and was pulled over, apparently every wanker out there missed his beer stop, he was heart broken, boo hoo! We jumped in his car and had him drive us a couple hundred yards. We jumped out and continued hashing on that long road. When out of the blue came a van filled with hashers, NFB and FootFairy. They turned around and picked our asses up. My first personal auto hash, it wan't that bad!



We circled in a garage near the Middle School and were as merry as could be after a 7 mile Hash, Shitty as could be! Good job my Friends!

The Apres was at Island Pizza, bet you thought it was going to be at the Best Titty Bar Ever, maybe Next Time?


Vera Wangless




#967 Flashlight Hash

Darkness was setting in on what was looking to be a gloomy night. A small crowd gathered in the empty parking lot of a tennis court facility. Tensions were building. Finally, a cooler of the most wonderful Hamm's beer appeared and the crowd rejoiced. A circle started to form, and our hares Bad Semen and Horn of Plenty commenced with their explanations of trail. As darkness was falling, how would we see flour on trail? It turns out that there wouldn't be any flour on trail? What? No flour on trail? What kind of crazy trick was being played on us? Trail would be marked with small patches of reflective scraps courtesy of the one and only Stupid Brother. With headlamps lit, the pack headed of on the quest for the reflective marks, one for trail, two for a check, three for a BN/SN or whatever we decided it should be, four for a false. Or maybe it was three for a false and four for a BN. No one could keep it straight, and this was sure to turn into a massive CF. 
Off the pack went following trail, down behind the the army facility. What? We aren't going up into the Shillington Park? These tricky hares! Trail eventually wound around behind a school and baseball field and up towards the park. Ha! they thought they had us fooled. A shot stop in the park and off went the pack in search of more reflective patches. Checks and falses finally led us well up into the park and back down to a beer near.​ with beer consumed and everyone replenished, off we headed back down towards the start, only to find another trick, the finish was not at the start, but we had to get in our cars and drive over to Sofrito in Mohnton for circle and beer. Trail was shitty, everybody drank and the pack got a piece. 

On-on, Dances.

#966 The Bonfire Hash


Really people, Is your life that pathetic??…do not answer that…multiple posts.. promises of a human sacrifice, a fire, and debauchery and you failed to make the # 966 the Bonfire hash??

There was a circle, a virgin, names, flour, chatter, chatter, chatter, smushed lantern flies, and a general erection.
Well you didn’t miss much…a short wait for Roids while the gang relished in fantasies of a tumble in the hay were met with barely the distance to f...irst base. On the wagon, off the wagon, and Charlie Sheen nowhere to be seen.
First beer stop and no sign of the matriarch that produced a Tidy bowl. Yes, hasher’s have expectations. Few choice words and Fudgepacker, hare of the moment, was off. He wanted 5, the merriment gave him less and….well ….does anyone really hang around for the Hamm’s?
Poor planning on Fudgepacker’s part, if he’d looked over his shoulder he’d have caught an eyeful of women going down.. and down, and down, and down…Go figure... before it was over there was something to coat the throat.
In classic Tidy Bowl neighborly fashion, a shot stop was traded for the kennel helping to move a playset. Surprisingly, the youngster who gained an awesome fort and swing set did not get the Kevin Spacey treatment from AC/DC.
Somewhere around this point Foot Fairy was thrown from a moving white van…auto hashing??? Possibly…. a kidnapping rejection more likely….
More down, down, down….and we’re not even waiting…..typical calamity ensues as the trail disappears mid Fleetwood….2 options….”A” take the hunch and go to Klinger’s… “B” follow Cougar Bait….
“B” was the bad choice…he’d run off to the cemetery…with a hard one in his hand no less.
Klinger’s the correct answer… cold nourishment…trading sweat…cramped in a dark room. Sounds like fun…
Whisper down the alley… a trading of hares and we’re off chasing pink from Little Man in the Boat.
Barely 100 yards out ... Legal-easy identifies the Grand Canyon of plumber cracks. That might be the high point as Little Man gave it to us… straight up.. and up… and up… Shot stop….and up… and up…
Gather… circle, something about blue shirts, a virgin that nobody made come, bald people, and a great melody about grabbing a cab. Then we burned things. If you missed it you suck.


With deepest admiration,

Fleshwound


#965 Crack's Analversary Hash

Prelube was at Paolo's where a dozen or so hashers met. After a couple of Perpetuals, off we went to the On On.

About 25 hashers showed up at Ollie's Outlet parking lot on Shillington Pike. It was windy, the temperature was dropping and it was about to start raining. What a great day for a hash! Then again, every day is a great day for a hash, or so we thought. In circle, Horn of Plenty shared a story that she was at a hash and RH3 was in th...e song. Ah, this is great. RH3 will be remembered forever! Not so fast my friend... The song went something, something, something "and Reading cancelled a fucking hash!!!" Yes, Reading will always be remembered shamefully for cancelling a hash.
As depressed as we were, the hash must go on. Because this was three weeks ago and I'm now writing hash trash, I don't remember much of the trail. Only the important parts like the first BN at Hot for Teacher's garage and like Ground Hog's Day, we were back at Hot for Teacher's garage for the SN. We circled behind the KFC. Pizza and beer at Paolo's. How can you go wrong??
A message to all future hares and GMs. NEVER EVER EVER CANCEL A HASH!!!
Peace out - LBD



#964 The Halloween Hash

It was a shittily hot day for costumes. 

ToeFU had the proper attire, although the harriettes were traumatized by the underpinnings of his coconut bra and grass skirt. 

Circle commenced with stupidity, false introductions, and not enough slutty outfits, for any occasion, let alone an RH3 Halloween hash. Head Pedaler and Cums on Demand donned their best pirate attire. Jake from State Farm wouldn’t turn off the ringer on his damn landline. Popeye and Bushwhacker paused for a muscle contest. Finally some guidance was given to the pack (a GPS check... some bullshit acronym stuff... ), and they were off. 

Galavanting through an elementary school property, it took about 69 seconds for costumes to start being removed. The pack followed flour to the Shillington farmers market, where a fly-by beer check did no favors to bring the pack back together. But it did allow a hot Hooters chick a chance to join the fun. Over hill, over dale, and along Lancaster Ave, the herd scaled a hill, scouted a park, and found trail. Roads, alleys, etc, until a check turns us into Alvernia. This is when we should have gone to the bars of Millmont, Oakbrook, Troopers, etc, but instead, in the absence of flour, we followed NFB and his lame-ass monster t-shirt toward the Ken Grill Pool, where half the pack ran right by a shot check. After scavenging for 5 minutes with the back half of the pack for some trace of alcohol, we were overjoyed to see Head Pedaler emerging from the rear with fruity treats for the clan. Now if only Head Pedaler was half as sweet. Agitated that the hashers had somehow missed part of trail (oh my!), AND missed a beer check (well shit.), he hurriedly sent his minion Norman Bates on to another stop. Emerging through the swamplands, we crossed major roads, ran toward civilization, and that’s about when my full-body Care Bear costume resulted in complete dehydration and delerium. A vague memory of some apartments, a cell tower, and possibly a return to the On-On, my car ended up back at Casa de Cums, where a wine check preceded Head Pedaler’s last ditch effort to coerce stupid people to play even stupider games at his direction. Dizzy bimbos, balls, and long shafts, and yet no one even got laid. Circle brought prizes, bald people, and shitty beer. Head and Cums provided much food and booze, closed poolside views, and some cheesy fake popcorn snack that made my week complete. It sucked, and the hash was merry and well.

Dilatorily,

Legal Easy

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