, burrs). On we went to the first SN. It’s creamy and milky and everybody’s having another” Oh that’s good”. Off we went again up some skinny trail with lots of leaves and rocks. I’m trying not to fall again because I still have this prickly things all over me. We get to BN and the end of the craziness in the woods, but little did I know the craziness of the concrete jungle before us. The smell of skunk was heavy in the air as we ran down the hill to the next SN. Bottom shelf shots, why not? Off we go again through the 
RH3 #1060 The Stupid Bad Birthday Hash
Go hashing, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. But bring a dry bag, they said. So I did.
At the start, I was duly informed this Birthday Hash was no A to A. The accommodations provided by the back parking lot of Gallen Insurance in Shillington would simply not do for such a celebration. No no: This is an A to B. Put all your shit in Bad Semen’s car, they said. So I did.
No flour was wasted in chalk talk. Who needs chalk talk? And true to their word, before I could finish my deliciously thirst quenching Hamm’s, the hares gave their general erection at 6:07 and we were off.
A scraggly pack of hashers must have made quite a sight for the muggles in the Dunkin Donuts and Arby’s drive-throughs as we started out as one. We started to spread out as a check at the edge of Ollie’s took us up our first hill through a prim and proper residential neighborhood.
Another check! More hills! This time, trail took us over the mountain and through the woods where hashers of a more intrepid disposition summited hunting stands. On down and to the left over the familiar (even to me!) Wyomissing crick, trail led us along its soft, beautiful bank to the first BN behind RUseeN. As I approached the BN, I saw a muggle talking to the front runners, assumed he was angry, and jumped into the mighty Wyomissing to avoid detection. False alarm, he was friendly.
At the BN, more hashers trickled in! Among them, we had a travel hasher from Phithladelphia who now knows that RH3 starts when it says it starts.
It wasn’t long before the front running horn got bored and started off in search of flour. To our discredit, the pack followed him up and to the left. But the horn was not on flour. This is when my night started to fall apart.
Trying to be a hero, I went right in an attempt to find trail. Only I did not find trail. And when I turned around, the pack was gone. Nary a trace of them. Not an on on to be heard.
But hope sprang anew when my eyes spied the one and only Crack! Apparently also late to start, Crack had a few followers and we all fanned out searching for trail. I went back down to the BN to see if trail continued along the mighty crick. It did not. And when I re-emerged, Crack’s pack was gone.
And then I was alone. Truly alone.
After about twenty minutes of circling the neighborhood along South Wyomissing Ave—during which time it started pouring rain, I was proposed to with a “marry me!!” cat call by a muggle and I nearly stuck my finger in a pile of vomit thinking it may have been flour—I decided to head back to the cars. Not knowing I was only a few blocks away from Gallen Insurance, I raided the BN for the last two remaining Hamm’s and backtracked on trail for 2 miles.
Where did trail really go? In the only erection I didn’t look, of course: Straight. Up Madison Street, through the cemetery, up and around Shillington Park and down to Stupid Brother’s house. But I didn’t know that, yet.
Once back at the cars, I had ample time to deeply regret several things. Chiefly, parting with my dry bag, putting my phone and keys in my dry bag, and not having a contingency plan in the event I got thirsty for more beer.
I too eventually made it to Stupid Brother’s house thanks to the generosity of spirit that keeps me cumming back (i.e. my ass was saved when Cougar and Deathwish decided to look for me at the cars).
I hope that at 67 I have half the good looks and brains of Stupid Brother and Bad Semen. But since I am marital material for random muggle street walkers and couldn’t find trail like all the other half-minds, the future isn’t looking so good for Sir-Lance-A-Squat.
Thanks for the Shitty Trail! Hashy Beerday you Fucking Fucks!!! On-On!!!
❤️ Squats
RH3 # 1059 I Want to Talk to a Manager
RH3 #1058 The ResErection Hash
It was the first Monday night Hash for 2021, and a good number of halfwits came out to run trail. Circle was formed and in the center was a pair of nasty panties. Perhaps someone wanted to go Commando or was not in the mood to have their ass flossed while they ran. There was some speculation as to whom they belonged to, maybe Nasty herself put them there?
Anyway, chalk talk, introductions and a general erection were given and off we went through the creek in search of trail.
A record number of laws were broken including pedestrians on a 4-lane highway, trespassing through private property and perverts/alcoholics/drug users (whatever you want to fill in here) on school property while students were present not to mention open container laws on family filled suburban streets!
Homeowners screamed obscenities but no weapons were pulled!
I assumed the Hares, Foot Fairy and Old News, were anxious to get us back to circle quickly because there were so many directional arrows that even Joe Biden could have found his way!
Circle had its usual accusations and down downs but the announcement of the recent surprise nuptials of Old News and Hot off the Press gave everyone a reason to down/down. Congratulations!
This was an A to B Hash so of course we were loaded into vans like illegal migrant workers on their way to Wal-Mart! Fun times were had by all!
Respectfully submitted! Ginger Snatch
RH3 #1057 The Old Fashioned Hash, Part Deux
It had been several long months since we last gathered (thanks, COVID), and I was very much looking forward to the old-fashioned hash. I was not...disappointed...but surprised when I showed up and realized that “old-fashioned” was in reference to an alcoholic drink and NOT a hand job. (Thanks, South Park, for leading me astray.)
Anyway….I left my lubriderm in the car and grabbed my dry bag, ready to get started. After some brief catching up (it’s not a social event, btw), and explanation from our hares, ToeFU and Cougar Bait, we took off across the muddy terrain looking for ASS.
Never in my life have I gone to such distances to get ass. Ass is something I’ve never had a shortage of, and if I want some ass, I don’t have to look far to get some. But that was not the case on trail today. We slipped and trudged over the waterlogged fields and played our best game of frogger crossing 422 until finally at the top of the powerline we found some ass in an old freezer. (Usually I would be a little anxious about lurking around an abandoned freezer in a field, but fortunately, the only skull we found was non-humanoid.)
After some delicious Hamm’s and old-fashioneds, (drinks, not hand jobs) we took off again. Up until this point, trail was relatively enjoyable--a little muddy and slippery, but considering it was a Toe-hared hash, I expected the weather to be much worse. However, as trail continued, it became clear that we’d have to cross a creek. Immediately, I had flashbacks to the nightmare that was swimming the Schulykill to paint the rocks, but it turned out to not be that bad. Optopussy discovered using a walking stick to cross made it much easier, and Roids used his super strength to carry Black Cox Matter across the raging river. At this point I think some of the pack turned around to find dryer ground, but the more resilient (or more foolish?) forged on and were rewarded at a stop with more Hamms and old-fashioneds. From there we made our way across a golf course (not the drunkest I’ve ever been on a fairway but definitely the most enjoyable), and once again we had to cross yet another creek. Because of my years of experience playing Oregon Trail, I could tell it would be easy to ford this river and got across in no time.
Just when I thought we were through the most difficult part, it appeared that we would have to scale a monstrous cliff at a 90 degree angle. It turned out Any Crack’ll Do just wanted to put his climbing skills to use. The rest of us were able to find a slightly more manageable route and after one more short hill, we found the glorious HHHs.
Several hours later, we circled up. (There was good reason for the delay, as Casting Couch was generously giving the out-of-towners a tour of the beautiful Reading suburbs.) We sang some songs, made some accusations, drank some Hamm’s and old-fashioneds (still not hand jobs). At first there was no orange crunchy stuff but then there was. We put wieners in our mouths.
Overall it was a good day, though not as much rain as I hoped for. Thanks Toe and Cougar!
May we never have such a long drought between meeting with our fellow half-minds again!!!
-One Knee Wonder
#1056 BLACK FRIDAYS MATTER
Actually, ALL Fridays matter, but this last one especially so, as hares Horn of Plenty and Foot Fairy take the Reading H3 on a fun-filled romp through the streets, allies and retail outlets of Wyomissing.
The OnOn was the parking lot behind Sly Fox Taphouse. A couple dozen Reading hashers (along with a couple out of town guests) prepared for an urban assault against the expected hordes of pre-holiday Black Friday shoppers. As it turned out not much preparation was needed, as the shopping crowds were very light for what is normally the busiest shopping day of the year. But more on that later.
As I roamed the parking lot looking for some beer (Beulah had it stashed away) I came across Just Libby vehemently arguing that no, the pristine shoes she wore were NOT in fact new shoes, but had been worn before. A quick inspection by HPO Foot determined that yes, they were new shoes, and at the appropriate time she would be drinking out of them. To which she replied, “pound sand” (or the Gen Z equivalent for that expression). But more on that later. And for her insolence HPO Foot assigned her a sound bar box to carry with her for the duration of the hash.
Introductions were made, instructions were given and the pack was off. The first beer check was up on Granite Point (or do you say Pointe?). Cougar and Pooper bushwhacked up the hill (and actually stayed on trail), while the rest of the pack, in an effort to avoid local law enforcement took a more circuitous route. From the beer check the pack was off to (and through) Berkshire Mall. Let me pause here to reflect on something for a moment: so what has happened to our ‘mall hashing’ experience? We have hashed through various malls many times over the years and never failed to get our share of puzzled looks, laughter or finger-pointing. Not so now. The few shoppers that were there seemed to be so caught up in their own heads (or smartphones) that no one even seemed to notice the hash. Plus, with Covid it has gotten a lot more confusing. Swamp and I lingered several minutes by a couple checks near the calendar kiosk waiting for the rest of the pack before we realized the Xs were social distancing marks on the floor. Duh.
On out and down to the next beer check behind a dumpster near Jo-Ann Fabrics. This time the entire pack was there (with the exception of Swamp and Bad, who were kicking hash butt and looking for their first hash “win”). From the beer check towards the Shoppes at Wyomissing, where the pack soon encountered a ‘back check 7’. Then across the ball field and up towards what would be the On-In (or at least the circle).
On our way to the circle, we discovered an old Reading hasher out working in the yard. Nair was persuaded to follow us to the circle and did a down-down for being a non-returner (we figured at least 20 years since his last hash). Swamp and Bad, despite being WAY out in front near the finish, ended up as DFLs, and Just Libby, despite her earlier mentioned protests, ended up doing TWO down-downs (she was so excited to drink from her shoe that she jumped the gun and had to do a second one).
The après moved from fashionable Wyomissing to not so fashionable downtown Reading. Reading Distillery welcomed us with open arms where we enjoyed beverages of our choice along with Coney dogs from the Forest Inn. A good time was had by all, although I’m still trying to figure out what “tongues out, guns out” is all about.
Shitty Hash. Thanks Foot and HOP.
Bad Seman
#1055 The Bad Decoy Hash
What better way for a hash to begin than to pull into the parking lot to see a police officer greeting the group before even one “On on” was yelled? There isn’t a better way of course, and don’t worry, they were being tended to by....oh wait, shit, it’s Deathwish. Never mind. Well, I thought, I’m here anyway so let’s go see what’s happening. It turns out that Deathwish talked to the nice police officer and let him know we were just a good natured running group out for some exercise. What a guy he is. Your safety is his primary concern. The officer left and circle commenced with pleasantries and introductions. Great to see so many H5ers and Deathwish in the house! After discussing whether or not we should mess up the parking lot, it was decided to just explain the marks and get going. An erection was given and pack went to the left and How Long went to the right. That was the last I saw him until the H’s. The rest of us went behind the school through the field into the short path into the area that led over some creeks, weeds, shiggy and back toward Nolde. Opto hurt her shoulder jumping across a water crossing but, the trooper that she is, pressed on till the end. What a fierce competitor! We went across 625 a couple of times and were led toward the Thun Trail, then toward Nolde but we didn’t end up in either. Those tricky, tricky hares. Dare I say there were some “bad decoy” trails? Anyone? Anyone? Swamp? Anyone? Whatever, I don’t need you guys. I’m hilarious. Okay. Getting back to it. So, there were some road sections, it wasn’t horrible I guess. NOT ENOUGH ROAD! as they say. But the road led us to a fun little private property crossing. The pack picked it up a little at this point to avoid a gun being shoved where it didn’t belong. I know I saw One Knee Wonder kick it into high gear to get out of there. You’d have thought it was Legal Easy trying to avoid it, but it got everyone moving a bit quicker. I know I saw Puft There It Is or whatever Just Matt’s weird new name is, kick it up a notch. Thank goodness we have Dancing Fool to cover for us. Our recycling warrior spoke to the owners and worked his magic to explain that no one meant any harm and that the liars that spoke to him earlier were not part of this wholesome group. He must have been some philandering weirdo. Thanks Fool!!!! We followed marks through the green space and a beautiful neighborhood (more road...ugh) to our first beer near. Ahhhhhhhhh. Everyone took a break from all of that damn road and enjoyed a beverage with half mind conversation at Dumb and Dumber’s house. It was really swell, as Bad would say. I love that word. Back to it....so the group set out once again, Cougar leading the way. We headed back through the hood and up the hill...I think I saw a few of them racists I keep hearing about running up said hill. Accusations would take care of that later. Down the hill and through Overbrook to the secret path taking you behind the houses, across the street, and into Shillington Park through the trails to our shot near at the pavilion reserved strictly for Boy Scouts. I don’t know what those two had to do to the Boy Scout leaders to get that pavilion reserved in the Boy Scout name and I don’t want to know. Did someone say Weeblow? After some Wild Turkey and popcorn at the shot near, we were back to the hoods. A little jaunt following marks on the pavement brought us back to the pavilion and the HHH’s where we finally saw How Long and everyone’s favorite girl Couch made it back alive. Yay!!! Warm clothes, pizza, orange crunchy things, Hamm’s, circle, down downs, accusations (I told you those racists would get it), a song by Tour, swing low, and a hot pile of trash blowing around into people. What a day H3. What a day. Thanks Bad and Decoy! Love to you all!
Hot for Teacher
#1054 Type B Hash
Hares: Hot Lips, Brest Straoker, Papussy
In case you were wondering, type B’s tend to be calm, relaxed, empathic and assertive, open to social relationships, and have a tendency toward emotional well-being. They’re aware of their limitations and are not generally hostile…except during election years.
As I stood at the one and only ‘beer here’ stop observing several female hashers casually removing layers of clothing (One Knee Wonder received honorable mention for stripping down to her tank) and listening to several of the male hashers discussing flaccid penises and associated remedies, Toh Foo crosses the poorly shaped circle and casually tells me to pay attention as I am assigned the ‘hash trash’. “What the fuck?” I think to myself. This is my second hash (3rd if you count the bike hash). While I am proud to have picked up on three or maybe four hash names, in general, I suck at names. For a brief moment I think about how disastrous this hash trash is going to turn out and quickly resign to the fact that this must be some sort of rite of passage. In the words of the almighty Yoda “Carry on, I must!” It’s on-on we go, back the way we came as we were all just ‘Super Fucked’. What is Super Fucked, you might ask? Just wait for it.
About a mile and a quarter earlier, our wonderful host with the most, Brest pulled into the parking area and very enthusiastically greeted the fashionably early arrivers through the interior of his oversized jeep. You know what they say about guys and their jeeps? After exiting his vehicle and opening his tailgate, Brest offered a variety of adult beverages: Hamm’s and Hamm’s Light - an appropriate option for those watching their girlish and dad-bodish figures.
While I decide to save my alcohol consumption for the run and activities thereafter, I congregated with the others in the area around the cooler. Bad Seamen looked down at the ground and back up at Brest with a slight smile across his face. Switching his gaze to me, Bad inquired, “Hey, those sneakers look new. Are they new?” I proudly look down at my newish white Adidas joggers and tell him they are. Immediately, their reactions told me I was screwed…and not in a good way. Someone (because I suck at names) shared that I would later have to drink from one of those shoes. My immediate thought was ‘not if I can help it’.
Circle time commenced with introductions followed by Hot Lips walking through the trail markings. We are introduced to the SF (Super Fuck) and learned that it is essentially code for “maybe you are on trail or maybe you need to go back the way you came”. As an aside, Optopussy decided to bring ‘Just Toby’ along whose tongue is uncomfortably disproportionate to its head. While Just Toby made his rounds throughout the circle for strokes, he decided to pause at Foot Fairy’s legs to baptize his new and nicely pleated shorts with his tongue. By the smile on his face, I have to wonder if this is the most action Foot’s leg has received in a while.
And it’s off we go with Stink Finger having led the charge with his fast legs and horn blowing abilities. As we made our way through the trail, Toh Foo did a little baptizing himself by stomping through puddles as we crossed over the narrow water-laden bridge from the earlier downpour. While I am not sure if the later ‘flaccid penis’ conversation was targeted at Toh Foo, at least we can all vouch for his ability to make others wet. Likewise, the earlier rain made a casualty out of Ginger Snatch who succumbed to the fungus covered, slippery when wet, wooden walkway. Ginger, I hope you have recovered!
After confirmation of our SF and trailing back the way we came, trail markings led us up a small hill and back to the parking lot where most logged a little less than 3 miles on this Type B hash kind of day. Papussy was there to great us and handed us all a slip of paper with our next steps. Circle time would be had about ¾ of a mile up the road at Westy Bar and Grill. Although this was supposed to be leisurely Type B hash, several individuals of the type A variety decided to run to the bar. Fuck all the high achievers!
Circle time began with some celebratory down-downs (when one hare drinks, all hares drink) and Just Liz (that’s me) paying the price for wearing her newish shoes. In a poor attempt to avoid my consequence, I decided to switch out my shoes before going into the bar for which Bad called me out. As some sensed my hesitation to drink from my shoe, I was shown an alternative option which turned out not to be not much of a substitute for a somewhat conservative, sober individual. But I had one other trick up my sleeve. As I stood in the circle with my shoe and cup of beer in hand, I placed the cup in my shoe and put the shoe up to my mouth ready to drink. That obviously would not fly. I am bombarded by fellow hashes that quickly came into my personal space, removed my cup and poured its contents along with theirs into my shoe. I drank. My shoe, which still reeks of beer, is a gentle reminder to never make that mistake again.
After circle time, the RH3 socializes with a variety of pizza, wings (awesome wings, I might add), beer, and, for some, an Irish Car Bomb (compliments of Brest). A great ending to a fun hash!
Just Liz
#1053 Halloween Family Friendly Hash
On a perfect rainy hash weather day, several hashers and small future hashers showed to see the wonderful trail Pooper and Teacher had laid. Grand “Cock” Master went through circle proceedings with several excited future hashers tried to start without introduction taking place. Definitely knew which future hashers would be scouting trail for the rest of us. After introductions and marks explained, the group of hashers were off. Down the middle of the street the little ones went. What is the saying safety 3rd???
With the small hashers leading, the pack pretty much stayed together or in sight of each other. As we passed the playground, Cougar, How Long, Toh, and 3S’s could not resist playing on the monkey bars. Of course, the kids didn’t stop to play they continue to scout for trail. Who is teaching these kids to be FRBs???
The pack arrived at the 1st of many DN (drink near)/TN (treat near). The hares went all out with a very festive tent and goodies. After drinks/treats were consumed, the pack was off again scouting for more marks.
As the kids filled their goody bag at a TN in the Shillington neighborhood, 3S’s decided it would be a perfect time to water a tree behind his beer costume and coverage assist from Cougar in his Cock costume. How ironic a “Cock” providing cock coverage. LOL…
At the next DN, instead of consuming beer several hashers made the shed a watering spot. Hope the neighbors got a great peep show.
After experiencing déjà vu with a TN at Decoys and Opto’s place of business the pack crossed the HHH outside Crack and Teachers place. Circle shenanigans included doing down downs with pvc pipe on your arm. LOL! Of course I got out of doing it by offering up my first born Just Alex instead. Watch the video for a good laugh. I must say someone must be teaching Just Brady well because he consumed liquid with pvc pipe on his arm like a pro. Crack and 3S’s tried to outdo Just Brady skills, they were very close but Just Brady rocked. Good times! Good times!
On On Suckie!
#1052 The Mystery Hare Hash
It was a cloudy Sunday afternoon as 30 or so hashers and harriettes gathered in the Quarry Parking Lot in Shillington. A couple fresh faces required Cougar to explain the marks as the hare(s) remained a mystery. After some brief chalk talk and introductions, the pack was off. Into the park we headed, through the Ewok forest towards the now traditional Analversary Circle location, then up the hill through the weird Halloween porn shoot in the upper pines, and finally down the bike track to the first beer near. Swill was consumed by us, we were consumed by the relentless gnats, and we were off after more flour.
Continuing through the park to the other side of the creek, out to Museum Road, and State Street toward the former residence of one of the most loved and adored Reading Grandmasters of all time... but I digress. We hooked a lefty and headed towards Birdland. The next check caused some confusion and Fleshy and I ended up doing some hill repeats before re-finding trail and regrouping at an the song check at one of Reading’s “much older and semi-well received” Grandmaster’s house... but I digress. Anyways, an impromptu beer near had been thrown out on the walkway as He knew to distract us with beer or his house would once again be decorated with shit paper while we serenaded his neighbors with our sweet singing voices.
After leaving, we made it only a few more blocks before finding the next planned BN at Optós eye laboratory. We drank, we chatted, and we moved along... across Lancaster Avenue, through the Governor Mifflin campus and Shillington Borough parking lot, and into the neighborhood across 625. After some more checks and meandering the Shillington Streets, we finally happened upon the HHH behind Gallen Insurance where circle ensued. The mystery hares were revealed as none other than Optopussy and a long lost Reading Grandmaster (from not as far back as the previously mentioned “just OK” Grandmaster, but not as recent as the other “most loved and adored” Grandmaster mentioned before that)... but I digress.
Songs were sang, accusations were made, and down downs were consumed.
Peace and love,
Any Crack’ll Do
#1051 Analversary Hash
RH3’s 36th Analversary Hash was held on September 22, 2020 at approximately 6:15 pm as scheduled. Many hashers were in attendance, way too many to name. However among the assholes were 8 GM’s past and present which was of note. The kennel gathered at the intersection of Reading Blvd and Plymouth Place, excited to participate in the first trail of the new regime. After a few expected complaints from the neighbors, all of the cars were parked facing the correct direction and circle began. Any Crack Will Do was off for a solo live haring jaunt, introductions were made, Flamer and Horn spoke briefly of RH3 history. Next the pack was off to enjoy a beautiful evening, stampeding though Old Wyomissing. Trail was relatively short and the pack reunited in a small wooded area to enjoy circle led by their newly anointed GM, Cougar Bait. The kennel learned that this was intended to be a reenactment of Cougar’s very first hash, however a piñata was sadly missing. The requisite down-downs were drank and announcements were made. The next scheduled trail is a family friendly (ughhh) Halloween themed event on Sunday, October 25th, 2020. However Trail Master Optopussy would like if someone could find it in their heart to hare a trail Sunday, October 11th. It was also requested that wankers planning to attend trail should mark “going” on the Facebook event, even if it is day of. Although this unlikely to happen, it would be most helpful in planning apres during times where it is unlikely to be at a proper bar. Speaking of apres, the pack was then off to Mervine’s garage for more shitty beer, pizza, and merriment. Overall, things seem to be looking up for RH3. Hash trash was assigned and delivered in a timely manner. At least four photos were taken. There is another trail on the schedule and the Hash Horn has reappeared.
On-Out,
ExCoGi
#1050 Crack A Cold One For Crack!!
Not sure which wank was assigned this trash, but they utterly failed to perform. A GM's 50th trail should never go unrecorded...so here goes.
We gathered on the last Sunday in August to bid a fond farewell to the lastest unfortunate soul nominated to the tortured status of RH3 GM...Any Crack'll Do. In addition to the usual herding of drunken cats and settling of dysfunctional personality disputes, he had the dubious honor of leading our rag tag bunch during the now infamous Covid 19 Lockdown era. For months on end..Zoom alcoholism was the order of the day.
But anyway..we gathered above Mohnton, on a property rumored to be owned by a "business associate" of at least one kennel member. The forecast called for cool and wet, but hot and moist was the theme of the day. An excellent turnout of miscreants rolled in to bid adieu to our intrepid leader. A tasty keg of nectar flowed freely and we anxiously awaited trail instructions. As usual, our hare (the Crackster himself) was laying a live trail.
A crack of the pistol and off we went...
We scurried up onto Wyomissing Blvd. and began the long pavement slog downhill. Sounds of slapping feet (and other body parts) echoed off the local domiciles. The trail seemed to peter out, before we realized it doubled back up a creek. There, we found a properly chilled BN. Properly quenched, we continued on downward, finally veering off pavement to a second creekside BN. A group of 5th graders anxiously eyed both our beverages and our bimbos. From here, things got interesting. We scrambled up a loose, sheer mini-mountain, finally cresting and turning back toward the start. Up and down we rolled. Finally, sensing an end to our sweaty journey, we rumbled back up Wyomissing Ave. and stumbled to the end. Circle transpired in our usual "we can't sing worth a fuck" fashion.
Still more delicious beer was consumed, until the keg, which had been tapped the night before, kicked. Our leader scurried off and returned with replacement provisions, post haste. Long lost RH3er Deathwish arrived, graciously transporting the apres supplies. These were eagerly devoured and games and conversation (drunken, at best) continued. I had a follow on drinking engagement and will end my recantation here...
On On,
ToeFU
#1049 Da Bookends Bash
What luck! No rain for the Bookend Bash! This is going to be better than I thought... or maybe not! Foot Fairy and Opto were our Hares this evening. We started out from Trooper Thorns area, circled up for introductions and instructions and welcomed 3 new virgins! Fudgie and Inu arrived from Connecticut, and several hashers from other kennels were also there.
Virgins Beware! Instructions were thrown into the grass where no one could see them, and very little was explained to them! General erection was toward the Thun trail....so we’re off! Well, most of us...just Melissa got about 100’ towards the trail, lost control of her bike, and flipped over the handlebars to face plant herself in the ground! Her friend (another virgin) promptly took her to the hospital for facial injuries!
On we went towards Reading. Too Fu and I had a wonderful view of Breast Strokers ass crack for a while (pull your shorts up Dude!). We then passed under bridge to a homeless village complete with tents and folding chairs. NFB sailed by us on his mini youth bike, and says “I know where we’re going!” NOT! Our first beer near is under another bridge. A suspicious looking garbage bag awaits... is it leftovers from a homeless party goer? No, it’s our beer! Good thing Hashers aren’t picky, we’ll drink anything from anywhere! We proceeded towards Canal street, where I promptly fell over on some hidden railroad tracks!
We finally found trail again, and headed through Reading. I was a little nervous when people started branching off to look for trail, and didn’t come back!! We finally arrived at our next beer stop under cover in a parking garage in town (don’t ask me where, I was completely lost by this time)! We had to wait a while for everyone to show up (no stragglers left behind in the city). While waiting, Beulah started to ride off out of the entrance, and fell right over on the cement! This is turning out to be a crash and burn event!
We headed off down the alleyways and backroads of Reading, when another hasher falls over coming to a stop right behind me, and smacks her knee on the pavement. She “shakes it off” and keeps going, but I see blood!
It’s starting to get dark now. Some of the injured and those of us that had no bike lights decide to head back to the beginning lest something more ominous happens to one of us! We return safely, and wonder if everyone else made it out of the city alive.
Praying Man Tits, Just Liz and Swamp tell us that the circle will be held under yet another scary bridge near West Reading, so we all head over! After about 20 minutes, the rest of the hashers that were able to follow the actual trail arrive. Horn O’ Plenty says “it wasn’t that bad!”. It’s completely dark by now, but we have a great not socially distant circle, and drink beer out of our own cans instead of cups (way too easy on the Virgins that are left)! We had so many falls, all of us that fell had to drink in circle to celebrate. I heard just Melissa fractured hr cervical spine, hope she cums back for a second try!
ON On Hogrider
#1048 The Gary Coleman Hash
#1047 4th Of July Sunrise Hash @ Dawn
#1046 The Phased and Confused Hash
#1045 Escape the Quarantine Hash
#1044.7 Zoom Hash by Toe Fu
In a virtual galaxy far far away 15 half minds put their brains together and figured out how to make a computer work. Some were in the dark, some in the light, others on the road because when isn't there auto hashing involved, many on mute, and those that must proclaim feedback is an act of God.
The virtual trail began, on one on two on-on up and around town we went. Someone "drew" red lines all over the trail, said someone had better get to a doctor if that is what is cuming out of them they need some medication. We went left, then right, up and up to the witches hat! No social distancing was had at the beer stop. At this point Foot was getting pretty friendly with his virtual background lady friend. I think we lost him on trail at one point, as those legs wrapped him up tight and wouldn't let him escape the witches hat.
On On we went down the hill to the Reifsnyder Hall for the apres…we all rushed in so quickly who really knows where we actually ended up on this trail. Some were even said to feel quite at home, not unlike pre Covid-19 times, difference being some alcohol selections were limited in comparison. So cocktails were mixed, Blue Moon and Vermouth who would have guessed how tasty that mix really is?
Oh to the early days of the stay at home order, all the recent Facebook quizzes were discussed. What is your Covid-19 color swatch of choice, What bottle of Alcohol will last the longest, Is there enough alcohol to really survive this? The most important quiz was how long will your stash of toilet paper last? Thank goodness that our Hare Toe Fu left his credit card at the virtual bar once again, really will he ever learn? Endless minutes were given to us along with two namings! So you must always be careful with your usage of TP supplies as described by Stank Finger and account for an extra roll to accommodate the Period Shitz.
By this point in the evening I say we must have went very off the rails, where's a Railroad Cop when you need one? Seriously Balls, we could have used some direction at this point. So I will wrap this up as that is about the same time when my mind went blank.
On On Bitches!
Period Shitz
#1044 The Just Nasty Balls Hash (Green Edition)
Beware the Ides of March.
Who knew it was the last time we’d ever hash. Ever. Geez, I miss a lot of hashes (just because, y’know, keepin’ the peace in the family and shit), but the fact that there are LITERALLY no hashes to actually miss right now hits me right HERE (use your imagination to picture me pounding my chest in the area of where my heart should theoretically be, but who knows because I was a liberal arts major and unless it’s a TellTale Heart, or a Heart of Darkness, I’ve got no fucking clue).
Sorry. Where were we? Oh right. Hashing. It was March the (something or other, all the fucking days are running into one another) and it was the Just Nasty Cock or something hash. Wait, it was the “Just Nasty Balls Hash” – which combined Nasty, her little boy toy, and OneB/TwoB/RedB/BlueB – can I just call him OBTB? Fuck it, I am. And if someone has a problem, they can come over to my house and kick the ever living shit out of me. Please. Please. Please SOMEONE COME OVER. I’m fucking dying over here, with my kids playing fucking SmashBros, and my wife literally yelling at her Zoom screens with her book club / booze club.
Anyway, we started at a Cul-de-sac (get it….balls….sack…. ballsack…?). Ran along some dogshit stained trail for a while, and then found ourselves in some industrial zone. We crossed some RR Tracks, looking for flour. Crack decided to get himself enmeshed in some shiggy on the far side of the tracks, when all of a sudden Clarence the Fucking Train Conductor came up and ripped us a new one for violating his tracks. There were threats of calling the police, and discussion (mostly by me) of the fact that the steel was spauling on the siding, which was definitely a danger to all involved, and then we politely got the fuck off Clarence’s tracks. So…. Without trail to follow, we hi-ed on up to the road, annoying passing motorists who were all racing to get that last roll of toilet paper, (because COVID attacks toiletpaper factories in particular, doncha know). We found trail yet again on the fucking tracks, but being properly cowed by the invective that young Clarence had thrown our way (particularly his frequent use of the word ‘cops’), we kinda stayed OFF the tracks. All except for Tour de’ Puke who decided that rules are like panties (they just get in the way of a good time), who headed down to look for trail on the holy train tracks. We all stood there looking pretty dumb, and milling about like a herd of sheep waiting for Tour to give us the thumbs up, when …who should appear? Fucking Clarence, and his buddy Ernie the Engineer. Well, they pulled their little Thomas the Tank Engine between us and Tour, and like the loyal friends that we are …with the fucking “Leave No Hasher Behind” mentality, we got the FUCK out of Dodge. Fuck you Tour! That’ll teach you to hash in Reading, you Keystone Hack! (Just kidding, I love the shit out of Tour, he’s a total mensch…but I aint going to jail for the fucker).
So, what followed was a lot of fucking road. Like a LOT of fucking road. I was dragging a bit, never quite catching the front of the pack and never quite getting close enough to Horny Hands for him to infect me with his CovidCreepers. So, beercheck, then more fucking road, then a beercheck down by the old broken dam. Then some more fucking road, and some more fucking road. And then….. Then the fucking cops showed up (just as presaged by Clarence…that tattle-tale motherfucker. Way to fuck up the beginning of the pandemic, CLARENCE, you double-time getting train moving asswipe).
Well, the cops asked us if we were fucking with the trains, and we said… well, kinda, but not really. Interestingly, the cop bought it, and seemed ready to jump right in with us. And while it would have been fucking AWESOME to have someone in the circle with a taser, pepperspray, and a Glock 9mm, we told Deputy Dawg that he’d have to party some other time. Little did we know (at that point) that Deputy Dawg (who was pretending to be our friend) was ratting us out to the dreaded RailRoad Police. Yes. The police department who have a territority 1000 miles long, and 40 ft wide.
So, by the time we get back to circle, we were joined by some very VERY official looking police-type folks who wanted to have a serious talk with OBTB. Then, we realized that they were railroad cops, and they were just a) killing our buzz; b) stalling our circle; and c) operating waaaaay outside their authority.
Anyway, after OBTB talked with them for a bit, our own hash ambassador NFB jumped into the mix to share his witty quips and offer to fellate them. The railroad police (oooh, it just SCARES ME TO TYPE IT) finally left, we drank, Horny Hands tried to feel everyone up, pizza was served.
So thanks to our hares (Nastys Boy Toy, Nasty, and OBTB) for serving up the last hash before the end of the world. I’d like to type more, but I’ve got some looting to do.
On On Decoy
#1043 The Bimbos’ Birthday Hash on ‘Roids
#1042 Groundhogs Day Hash
#1041 The Cabinet Moths De-Flowered My Flour
#1040 New Years Day Hash
The day started with a group of hashers gathered at Hampden Park trying to keep warm while waiting for our Grandmaster Crack to begin circle, Hares for this trail were Beulah, Sucky, and Hotp, during circle we learned we would be divided into 3 teams which we later learned this was a complete farce and was intended to keep the pack together for the trail, we received our instructions and then off then off into the woods we went. Arriving at the first BN the pack was treated to Beuhlahs NYE leftover pudding and jello shots (yum)..also appearing at this location was everyone's favorite recycle guy Dancing Fool...still amazed by how he along with his flip phone always is able to find us!! After a short game of charades we learned our next destination would be Engelmans park, no trail to follow...just get there. Arriving at this next BN where we find Hotp would be treating us with lemon squares to be washed down with some tasty lemon vodka, again yum. After another brief game of charades in which with an awsome acting job where teacher was able to act out a Jackass, her schools mascot...lol...we found out our next location would be 18th and Muhlenberg, again no trail just get there!! At this BN there would be no need to play charades as we learned we would be following chalk again which took us through the Alleys of East Reading and to our final stop at some abandoned parking lot where we found the HHH, circle commenced..the Frb for trail was Couch and Dfl was Packs, backwards I know...who would of thought it....good job Couch on recording your first ever Frb, Apres was held at the long storied Nick's Cafe where the pack was treated to Dogs and kraut, rolling rock and also got to hangout with some of East Readings finest residents, good job and thanks hares, all in all another great day ringing in the new year!!!
On On, Old News
#1039 Little White Dickie Hash
28 Hashers found their way to the well regarded corner of 6th & Greenwich. Our hares, Horn of Plenty, Optopussy and Bad Semen, promised us little white dickies, some were jealous of the black dickies as they appeared larger than dickies of past. Circle commenced with the promise of the most trash ever seen on trail.
So off the half minds went, proving that they can cross a road and promptly became confused by a parking lot and a dumpster. Is this the first beer near, they wondered? Nope not so lucky, up the hill and around a fence they went. On One On Two over the railroad tracks we go, thus the confusion ramped up as Legal Easy vanished into thin air, surely taking others on the alternate route.
Our group of halfminds, true to form, all found their way back together at the BN. They could sense the proximity, although finding it proved all collective brain power was needed. Finally the beer was found, a photo on the stairs was taken, drinks were enjoyed! On On, across the bridge they went, taking in the holiday sights…house that collapsed and the poor kitty was confused as to why his house was gone, the festive Genesee Cream Ale cans decorating the street, heroine needles like little broken light bulbs they wished they were.
The hares once again confused the half minds, some went up the underside of the bridge, while others went elsewhere. Roids was found breaking into a lovely bedroom and his little white dickie had a romp on the mattress. Bushwacker was astounded and felt the hash should have brought a fruit basket to the home we crashed, as that is the polite thing to do during the Christmas season.
So to the top of the bridge, confusion reined supreme, there was much touching of telephone poles, long discussions of what is flour and what is spray paint. Where oh where is the other half of our 28 half minds? Eventually the trail was found by all and toxic colored mud as well.
Loud noises in the distance, is that more holiday cheer or gun shots? Thank goodness a roaming festive beer near was the origin of the gunshots, pretty balloons. By this point the warmth of the day deemed the LWD useful as headbands. Just Stacy's LBD looked like a Nun's habit, thus many stories of First Holy Communions and other childhood trauma caused by the church were swapped. Up the stairs or through the shiggy all were off back towards the city. At this point all had an opinion of where the Apres will be. Some were eager to get there whilst others basically said fuck this shit, decided to walk, why is this trail so long?
Arriving at Chill then Grill, the Apres was held. Apparently our singing needed some help as the DJ brought out a speaker. Our 29th Halfmind, Toe Fu, appeared so a solid group of cheery hashers enjoyed food, drink and music. Just Kelly, Casting Couch and Nasty Pantys had a go at the dance floor, while Swamp and Shrinkage had a hard time keeping their tongues off the floor.
On On to Super Shitty Trail and happiest of Little White Dickies!
On On Just Stacy
#1038 Boilo Hash
Twas the week before Christmas when all through the Hash,
We all froze our asses off and threw in our cash, the hashers were hung like cold little dicks.
In hopes of finding alcohol and even hot chicks.
The hashers set out to find trail on the ground
but the snow-covered streets allowed nothing to be found.
We searched and we searched and even got railed
When Old News called out this hash is a fail.
Horn of Plenty emptied her blatter, when the rails came alive it made such a clatter.
We turned off our lamps and climbed under some trains,
But couldn’t find an exit and it drove us insane.
Finally, we found an exit, where we all did wonder,
“Was a shot stop here sometime last summer?”
Off to the tap room up hill quite far,
Couch was waiting at our favorite bar.
It was warm and dry, we drank the whole stock.
Then Crack laid on the ground and showed his big cock.
When it was time we auto hashed back to Mike’s,
To chug lots of boilo, we were really psyched.
On On Just Jordan
#1037 Santa Fucks the Hash
The hash started out on a cool, but not freezing day with a prelube at the Forest Inn. Would’ve been cool if the bartender paid us any attention at all to get us a beer but apparently he only had eyes for Flamer, Bad Semen and the other old farts. Even the beautiful HOP was unserved. So, we were off to have a beer with the rest of the half-minds in the parking lot at City Park. We had some out-of-towners and a virgin along with the rest of the crew all dressed in their holiday best. Usual circle nonsense and a general erection were given by the hares and the gang was off. Just then is when Roids and Just Karen showed up....this act of tardiness did not impress our timekeeper, Bad Semen. We went off down Penn Street looking for flour, which wasn’t hard with marks in red and green. Thank goodness the pack had Beetlegizz’s dick staff to follow. Phhhewwwww! On down Penn we went past the tree where we all posed for a pic with one of Reading’s finest. Down past RACC and under the bridge we went to our first BN. Some shitty refreshment for all! After that trail was hard to pick up. There was much confusion about where to go next. Had we known there would be no imagination whatsoever put into this trail, we would have headed right back where we came from, but instead we spent a shit ton of time looking on the bridge for marks. Finally, HOP or someone else with more than a half-mind, probably Legal, led us back where we came. Collectively, we all headed back up Penn and into the Forrest Inn past the HHH to our final destination. Beer was drank, accusations were called out, circle was stretched out and more beer was drank until we could get to the apres at DeCarlos for the 12 days of hashmas, naughty gifts from Santa, drinks on the hares and a partridge in a peartree.
On on and love from Teacher!
#1036 Let's Rock Gibraltar
Let's Rock Gibraltar - ToeFU and Just Kelly
It was a wild and woolly Sunday. Rain, Snow, howling winds. The little hasherettes looked out their windows and happily settled down with their blow up dolls and dildos - no need to go Hashing today! Noon arrived and the rain stopped, the snow went away - the wind was still blowing. The little hasherettes looked out their windows and sadly put away their toys of sexual gratification and lubed up to go Hashing. Sigh.
Just Kelly and ToeFU gathered the reluctant hasherettes in a quick chilly circle, elbowed them in the general direction, and off we all went down the road. It’s always entertaining watching Hashers trying to cross a road. This was no exception. Roids did check, but the wrong way - booming “ All Clear”, the hasherettes crabbed and scampered across Gibraltar Rd. Luckily the lovely woman in the SUV must have special needs kids because as everyone ran straight in front of her car she chose not to drive them over.,
Off down the Exeter River Trail until a backcheck of 14. Luckily not only can Not Twat run, but she can count - I think she is the only one. The rest of us just turned around and lumbered after her back down the road and back across the river. At some point with Not Twat waving her arms about, we decided the tall grass looked inviting and wandered off into it. Eventually someone found flour and off we all went.
Some back alleys and a check right by the Allegheny Aqueduct. What is that, you ask? This lovely historical structure built in 1824 to carry the canal boats above the Allegheny Creek was part of the Schullykill Canal. You KNOW that ToeFU and Just Kelly intended for us to visit this lovely historical structure! So up we climbed, and became slightly more culturefied as we explored the historic landmark. A few checks later and a possible False - or had ToeFU taken a dump in the flour? Hmmmm hard to tell. We meandered across a boggy field to another historical landmark. Will the learning never cease????
This time it was the Beidler House - built in 1783, and the Beidler Mill - built in 1766. You could almost hear the little hasherettes tiny brains exploding with all the learning. Enough of that shit! Off down the road for our next adventure. After an incessant amount of running - at least 5 minutes, the little Hasherettes came on an old Hashing haunt. Naomi’s. Much history has happened there, but since he was getting married that weekend we will not speak ill of him. I digress.
Seeing a BN - we entered said establishment. It was vastly changed. It looked nice. Perhaps we had the wrong place. HOP and I bellied up to the bar to enquire if we were allowed in. The other Hashers I think were looking for the toilets, but since they couldn’t find them, it really just looked like they were casing the joint.
“Are you expecting a group of people?” enquired HOP
“ You need at least 5 people to get a pitcher” responded Delores ( not her real name)
HOP and I were thoroughly confused, but we did indeed have at least 5 people so lets get a pitcher of beer.
“What beers are we allowed to have O sweet Delores “ asked HOP
“Anything you want, and I have wine as well”
“Oh,” said I, “ Sweet Delores, we are poor wandering Hashers with no money, what has been paid for?”
“ Anything , he left his credit card with me”
Sweet.
I distinctly remember Nasty’s head suddenly popping up over the bar at this point, and there was the gentle sound of negative pressure all around the room, as the little Hasherettes blinked themselves to the bar.
Then the very very best Hash ever started.
Once everyone was ensconced with their favourite beer and wine, in the cozy warm wooded room, Dolores became even more friendly. More wine, more beer. How about the apple pie moonshine shots, they were very tasty. Well why not.
The first round was yummy, the second round was even better. The singing started, the stories of Hashing days gone by. It was finally determined that Dolores had been told by TOFU that we needed at least 5 people in a picture ( not a pitcher ). No worries, we can do that. So we took lots of pictures. We needed to show ToeFU how much we were enjoying his credit card. Who cares about the Apres, call ToeFU, we were staying.
Then like all good sexual fantasies, this one too ended. Awwwwwwww.
I’m not sure who the first person was to leave, but sadly the little Hasherettes unglued themselves, and wandered back outside into the freezing cold.
Still not sure why
At this point your narrator is quite drunk. So we will keep this simple. There was quite a bit of running. We got close to a winery, and tried to go in it, but unfortunately no credit card for us. Dammit. Crossed a road and down some steps to a Shot Near with Bird Dog. Running, running , endless amounts of running on the stupid Schykill RIver Trail. What does “PC” mean? Panty check? Photo Check - lets take some pictures. More running. Did I say that there was quite a bit of running? No - well there was. All this perfectly good shrubbery and we were running down a river trail. Eventually the running stopped, and we were back to the HHH.
I really cannot bring myself to say it was a shitty hash,. It was almost the best Hash ever. If only we had never left Dolores and someone could have come and picked my drunken arse up.
I’m shallow like that
On, On - Bushwhacker
#1035 The Type B Hash Part Duex/Dos/Zwei
A nipply cool Sunday afternoon waiting for ginger snatch and casting couch to find the correct on on location..... Breastroaker leads circle and off we go. Hash starts out going through many a pricker bushes up the mountain. Up up up we continue to go through more pricker bushes. After many pricks we hit a BN and partake in a variety of beverage. After all hashers have arrived we take off again.... up, up, and more up we go until we hit a SN where colorful syringes of Jell-O shots are offered. Next stop was a BN where Legal Easy arrives with a new friend she calls inchy the inchworm. As we take off for one last time we continue through the woods to a driveway that leads us to final destination of HHH. Definitely true B trail as I myself was FRB. Hashers gathered in circle for down down lead by a choir of Choo Choo, Beulah and Casting Couch. Afternoon of many prickers and climbing finished off with food and beer by a bonfire. Great type B hash by Hot Lips and Breaststroaker... no popo this year!!
On On, Gone Colioni
#1034 The Hash That Doesn't Suckie
The “Hash That Doesn't Suck” was the working title to this all-estrogen homage to Sucky Sucker's vaginal extravasation anniversary. Stay tuned to see if the hares were just blowing sunshine up our <insert orifice of choice>.
The Pre was somewhat sparsely attended...only Old News and I indulged in the splendid list at Barley Mow. Had we known what drink options lay ahead, we would never have left. Off to the lot by RACC we went. On On refreshments consisted of some ill-defined red stuff, which supposedly contained something “whipped”. We then gathered under the Penn Street bridge, as trolls are apt to do, to circle. The weather was perfect. As the clouds pissed, we received instructions from our hares. Sucky soon learned that a fine layer of construction dust was not the best medium for spray paint chalk talk. GM du jour, Foot Fairy, looked on bemused, then had us identify ourselves for later forensics. With that, it was On On...
Trail started, paralleling the banks of the crystal clear Schuylkill River, past buoys that probably had an actual purpose at their original location. Across the proclaimed “rape bridge” and onto the bank adjacent to Rt. 422. Slipping and sliding on jizz-covered rocks, I fully expected to be struck in the back of the head by one of Bad Semen's knee implants, as it forcefully extruded from it's intending location. Trail continued along the river until we encountered a tributary with waist deep, fecal-colored water. Some of our intrepid band balked at crossing initially, so I scaled the loose, slippery bank above it, using ferns and other trustworthy handholds, to find an alternate route. By the time I had descended the other side, all had traversed but Penny For Your Twat, who was graciously escorted by our visiting Green Peacer, Dancing Fool. We regrouped and continued on what became increasingly like a foray through rural Viet Nam. Passing the perennial homeless encampment under the Bingamen Street Bridge, we emerged onto the bridge itself...sadly without signs detailing our homeless plight and need for sustenance ie. beer money. Descending steps mid-bridge, we found a shot stop...well, sorta. We were treated to some fruitish “sangria” substance, which made even the most hardened hasher palate pucker.
Back to trail. Leaving our hares alone to deal with the lurking homeless person and his umbrella, we plunged off into the mist. We traveled the rusty underbelly of the mostly defunct Reading industrial region, plucked at by barbwire, sipping and discarding another rancid shot and trying not to plunge into the murky depths of the river. Past another encampment, we encountered an obvious blue sprayed “F”. The hares denied it's existence later, but we saw what we saw... Then, on to the rope...the string...the floss. With a tensile strength of roughly half a microPascal, even hashers knew not to rely on it to help ascend the slippery, steep hillside. Miraculously, we all made it to the top, to emerge onto a perennial favorite...railroad tracks! Lumbering along, we soon spotted Cougar Bait, doing the hares a solid by reinforcing the marks. A quick right and there was Beulah with yet another gut-wrenching beverage. Heaving as we trundled past the old Reading Brewery, we dodged left, then right...all the while marveling at the house with the rowboat yard décor. A few more blocks, over a tetanus-encrusted fence, and we crossed the HHH.
Fool and Penny were still unaccounted for, but in typical “fuck them” fashion, Circle commenced. We were all given another mushy cup of orange or red-colored swill and toasted Sucky's birthday in proper hash fashion. By this point, Foot Fairy appeared to be succumbing to the beer DTs, so the rest of the format was tossed out the window and we swung low. Apres was held at the newly remodeled Saucony Creek, which reportedly has resulted in a 50% decrease in the local prostitution employment rate. Food and drink was enjoyed by all. Several cakes were presented and promptly ignored because every hasher knows the the only good carb...is a beer carb.
Presented with the utmost reverence and deepest attention to detail and truth...
ToeFU
#1033 Alcohol Combat Hash
Beer wars! Hash # no clue
Monday Evening we all gathered at the NE Taproom for some swill and circle. Foot and Opto are the hares of the beer wars and if you’ve never gone to one before…You’re gonna be druuuunk. Cool fun fact this year: we were promised a plane! Whoop! Opto handed out poker chips, some red and some white with blue on them for some flare. Don’t you dare ask for a different chip because I’ve seen it firsthand…the mom stare... Poor Toby...or Packs. Anyhow, Grandmaster Crack does circle and everyone says their name for the most part. Hares give some rules and then the teams were split up, red and white (go red!) In true Foot fashion the plane he promised us was steel city beer , I believe…a very large one. Teams must finish it before they can go to their first destination.
Both teams were off…and onto Tophers! Both teams drank whiskey and beer…Red team finished and bought the White team shots, white team threw a hissy fit about the shots but some actually stayed and did some (go you guys!)
On to the next destination, red team was told hillside or something like that. Pink thinks Nasty messed up (ha!) but we improvised and met up with the white team at Buelah’s house for a super fun game of find your beer in the darkness of the evening and pouring down rain. I’m not quite sure how everything went down but I did hear a lot of this: You’re a cheater! You threw my beer! That’s my beer you get this beer! Why do you have a flashlight?! You guys cheat! Stop looking at me swan !
Onward to Hillside and up 83.5 steps of wet slippery death in the dark to Foot! This stop put a beer for every hasher (10) in a large red bucket…Whatever doesn’t go in you goes on you. This had proven to be true watching everyone chug the beer and the head! Who said head? Red team finishes before the white team and makes their way down the slippery steps of death back to NE Taproom, in the distance I can hear someone screaming about keys…wasn’t the red team…On-On! Back to NE Taproom and Not Twats keys were safe and sound and everyone headed back in. Foot confirmed we were done so some of us ordered beer until everyone came in. I’m not sure at what point I’ll stop believing Foot but last night wasn’t the night.
In the back room as Couch sat on the couch the teams competed in a game where they sucked beer out of an ice cube tray with a straw. Sounds silly but get a bunch of RH3ers together that swear they aren’t type A be very very Type A. Back to-You’re cheating!, you didn’t finish your beer, Cheater cheater Cheater! Old news was asked on multiple occasions to take his tampon out. Anyhow, from what I remember Red team won. Fudgie and Inu had a suck off, and there were an abundance of beers in circle thanks to Pink turning into the next AC/DC of accusations. Circle ended, people ate and drank more. Thanks Foot and Opto for a Soaking Wet shit show of competitive type A not type A cheater fun!
~DH
#1032 Lucifer is Gonna Boogie Hash
#1031 35th Analversary Hash
Oooof...it’s 8:47 Sunday night, my laptop battery is critically low and I am critically drunk. I tried resetting my facebook password four different times and each time it said “fuck you.” (Oh well, facebook is only used by geriatrics and Russian spies anyway (sorry, too soon???))
On-on to today’s
hash….. I thought about putting a sarcastic twist on it and saying
the weather couldn’t get much more beautiful, blah blah blah, but I
figured that’s been done before and we’d ALL know it was a
lie.
Sooooo tbh, after about two solid weeks of amazing fall
weather....the weather today was shit. I had boob sweat before I even
began the run, which in itself is impressive because I proudly rock a
flat-chested pair of A’s. We all trooped (trudged) through the hash
to *finally* make it to West Reading and drink some cold beers at Sly
Fox. (I would like to note that Sly Fox is one of my favorite
breweries, but picking a favorite would be akin to picking a favorite
child so I probably shouldn’t do it…..)
After leaving Sly Fox,
the hash took quite a difficult path to find the next beer check
(although I’m sure to the amusement of the GM’s), only to stop at
Barley Moe’s. In true fashion, I drank a beer solely based on what
the can looked like because I’m a sucker for a nifty design and---
I’ll try anything once. From there we all made the long trek
(run/walk) back to our cars before finally circling up at Canal
Street Pub for some good food and more good beers. *PS. I’ve never
read hash trash before, so if this sucks, sorry, fuck you.
Just
Kelly
***Edit: I did write this Sunday night when I was still
drunk, but apparently trying to reset my Facebook password and
ultimately trying to make a new account was deemed “suspicious,”
so I spent 2 days on Facebook probation…I guess they determined I’m
not a shady identity thief, so feel free to send me a friend
request.***
#1030 The Family Hash
#1029 Fudgie and Inu Last Hurrah Hash
#1028 Him and Schmimm
#1027 Bad's Analversary Hash
Casting Couch
#1026 The Hump Hash
So,
it was hot....really hot.
Hashers filtered in like moths to a
flame, knowing their demise was in their future.
Live hares are
fun to chase.
Crack would have been an easy target
especially with the ankle boot.
Cougar stepped up and proved to be
a challenge.
Pack was off and across the river(we use the bridge)
No more dead bodies please
Looped back through Wyo via a Brewers
BC.
Off to Wyo park to get crissed-crossed thought the creek.
A
cleaver hare slugged up through the center of the creek to cool
everyone down.... okay, almost everyone...
Back through Oakbrook
to raise the shooting risk then back to the cars....ish
Circle,
stupid shit, then off to the Gms house (thanks teacher) for food and
social stuff.
Great shitty trail
NFB
#1025 Float Hash
It was a smoldering Sunday afternoon when all of us degenerates met up for what would be a day to remember (or maybe not). When we gathered for circle to pay homage to the beer gods.
As we learn the rules for all the virgins, we finally load all our floats into the trailer (for no damn reason at all). After proper prelubrication and circle, we all scurry about. And into the woods we go, to lose ourselves and find our soul. With all the old heads showing the way for the virgins to climb through the bush, we all made it to the other side, with only a few scratches and minor tears. No plastic surgery needed.
The rat race continues. Winding through the park, we find our first beer break. Thank god for teacher bringing the hamms. On-On!
As we run in an out, and up and down the neighborhood roads, we realize the civilians are gazing and gaulking as we drink our beers while running. Thank God Old News was paying attention to where we're supposed to be heading towards. He was the leader of us slow pokes in the back! We wouldn't have made it without him!
Flip flop crew was pulling in the rear. Next time they will remember......all aboard the shoe leather express!
We all somehow made it back to the park! Old news, just Nancy, and myself found a poor innocent civilian passerby in a convertible who was nice enough to not run the stop sign and allowed me to hop over the side of his convertible door and right onto the top of his lunch. Where I smashed his sandwich with my nice sweaty ass, and gave us a ride back to the park. Our tubes were no longer in the trailer we loaded for no reason at all....and there we had more lubrication! Well deserved and well needed! Even though some of us found a ride! ;)
We all drunkenly stumbled into the river.
Cougar pulling the slow fucks with his kayak to catch up with the rest of the flock.
Most of the degenerates in the group had regular round flotation devices. Others had floating poop, an ice cream cone, a magical Unicorn, old school black tubes from the 80's and an Avacado! At one point or another, someone was floating by passed out on an air mattress! I'm pretty sure I also saw someone riding a Cock! I think the rooster won that battle!
Circle continued in the river.
Songs were sung. InU took blackmail pics ;)
My own mother, just Nancy, was the biggest drunk of all as her son in law had to carry her out of the river like a damsel in distress. She must really love nature because she seemed to want to dance with the rocks in the water as she stumbled around falling over. It looked pretty romantic. Apparently she's been a virgin all this time which is strange to me because my existence seems questionable now.
Foot fairie didn't pop his cherry (I mean alvarado seed) like he was hoping.
Bukkake doesn't remember anything as he stumbles away to puke all over himself.
We all drunkenly stumble out of the river to regather our belongings and dignity, like leaving after a one night stand.
Post-lube was spent at margaritas with car bombs and ass slaps! Thanks to breast stroke and packs it in the rear!
Old
News and Hot off the Presses drove just Nancy home. Thank God because
I was in no shape to do so.
I shoulda paid more attention I guess had I known I'd have to write this trash!
On-On!
Just Carol.
#1024 Old Fashion 4th Hash
(Merica!)
And
so, for the 33rd time – July 4thwas celebrated by RH3 oddly enough
on the 4th…….
Our band of Brothers (Hares) for this annual
gala were the well-seasoned Flamer, the ever-youthful Decoy, the very
proper (cough, cough) Toh Foh and the Hasher’s Hasher Foot
Fairy.
Upon arrival and a giant bear hug from Beulah (love those
bone crushing hugs) we were welcomed with an extravagant Continental
Breakfast of Rolling Rock, Donuts and Fireworks and not to be
forgotten Optopussy airing it out in the middle of circle having her
hair braided – was that included in the price of
admission?
Grandmaster – “Any Crack Will Do” got things
started in Circle welcoming 3 Virgins – Two in the Pink’s Brotha
(Just AJ) the newest addition to the Family Scroat (Just Alex) and
another new young Reading Hash Harriet.
So off we went (the
customary 10 min. head start not required – these old timers must
have laid the trail last weekend) down the steps and to left we went
only to find out that right wasn’t wrong it was right. The annual
merry mountain Hash was on for the 50 Half Minds in attendance. In no
time we found ourselves negotiating a rather sketchy downhill “Butt
Scootin’ Doggie” decent. Some looked like they shit their pants
and others probably did.
It was only fitting that our first B.N.
was located at the old Reading Premium Brewery, 9th & Laurel. Our
Nuclear Half Wits – Deathwish and AC/DC did some explorin’ and
destruction to the second level of the rustic remains. When all were
noticeably gathered the pack was off again – up, up and climbing we
went with a number of Racist Hashers running the steep uphill. Little
Scroat (fruit of my loins) was amongst the pack, he likes to drink.
Another B.N. at the Mansion House (a Moron property) – a Trash Can,
Fireworks and Beer what could go wrong – a wake up service for all
of Moron’s renters surely appreciated it.
After a Tour of
Pennsylvania’s 4th Poorest City we made it to the other side and
meandered through the Flour Defaced (Pray for Me) Cemetery leading us
up through some pretty rough Shiggy to the next Mountain climb and a
few new Mtn. Bike Trails ultimately ending at the Witches Hat and
welcomed by another Fireworks Show and found HHH.
After Crack
successfully negotiated a Circle War Stand Off with those in the
Witches Hat (We really can get along) we were blessed with the
arrival of the remaining members of the Family Scroat – Baaaddd
Teacher (Colorado Springs) and Just Alex (Reading’s newest
Virgin).
Deathwish performed 2 of his famous Hash Hymns, AC/DC
pants’d Two in the Pink, someone else pants’d AC/DC. Numerous
Accusations and Down downs were assigned including the Witches Hat
Hold Outs. The Best Line of the Day – when Bukkake was called into
circle and Decoy called out “And All Other Boy Band Members in
Circle”. A spirited “Swing Low Sweet Chariot” was followed by
“Spring Roll” performed by the Colorado Scroats – Little Scroat
& Baaaddd Teacher.
A little jaunt 1-1/2 miles down the
mountain we arrived at our favorite July 4th Apres “The Reiffton
Fire Company”. Sam Adams IPA flowed, a bountiful breakfast (2
scoops of each-no matter you only asked for one) Sausage, Bacon, Hash
Browns, Eggs and Fresh Fruit and apparently Irish Car Bombs for
Dessert!
I leave you with a song:
Leprosy
I'm not half the
man I used to be,
Every time I cough things just fall off of
me,
Oh I believe in leprosy.
Thanks - RH3!
Big
Scroat
#1023 Lion King Hash
I am sitting at the bar (where elsewhere would I be?) waiting for my late friends so I thought I would bang this out so people stop harassing me. I knew I should have written this right after the run but I was hungover. My memory for this trail is a little spotty, but here it goes.
A fairly large group of hashers gathered in the parking lot of Liberty Taproom on a moist and sticky summer evening, like 3 months ago. We took off through the streets of Anteitam and up the mountain. I think there was beer stops and a liquor to the rear perhaps?
I do remember we finished at Foot’s house and due to nasty neighbors, we were forced to circle in the kitchen. I am glad I didn’t have to clean up that mess.
After was at liberty, of course. After “just one more”x4. I stumbled home hence the hangover.
Sorry guys, thats all I got. See ya next time.
On-On
Not Twat
#1022 Da Hash
Bash Hash #1022, Ok this trash goes way back to a beautiful sunny day in June, well at least it was by the time we gathered in City Park, I kinda recall it raining all day right up until it was time for us hashers to unload our bikes for one of our so much fun Bashes, the highlight of circle was our hare for this trail Foot Fairy letting Teenbeat know he was not gonna be allowed to take part in this evenings activities without his helmet...so much for our saying there are no rules in hashing, lol.. hey but at least Tohs vehicle would not be harmed on this night!! So off the pack goes winding down through the city arriving at our first BN the Penn Tavern, after consuming beers the pack was off again to our next stop which took us to NE Readings famed dive bar Jack's Pub, more beers were consumed before the pack headed out again and going south on 10th where eventually we wound up at not our next BN but actually stopping at Taqueria Jalisco where us riders were treated to just about an all you could eat tacos buffet, after consuming many tacos the pack was getting quite thirsty by now, thankfully we only needed a short ride to our next BN Tophers where we were able to wash down all those tacos with more beers. Then the pack was off for another short ride where trail ended with the finding of the HHH markings at Skips Forrest Inn, coney burgers, dogs and more beers were enjoyed by all. Thanks Foot for the awsome tour of some of our Citys finest dive bars, definitely was another great Bash!!
On On, Old News
#1021 Eggs & Kegs Hash
What better way to kick off Memorial Day weekend than ramble through the sleeping streets of Reading with a belly full of beer on a sweltering Saturday morning? In what is fast becoming an anal RH3 tradition, the pack gathered at a dusty bar on 10th St., Jack’s Pub, for proper lubrication. Several semi-coherent local patrons gazed in wonderment at the growing bevy of bims, with more great asses, perky breasts and full sets of teeth than this establishment had seen in the entire last decade. The spunky, grey-haired bartender was doling out double vodka and cranberries to all who asked.
Our hares, Foot Fairy and Crack arrived, seemingly pleased at the robust turnout, which was quite good considering the exact details of the On On were made available some 15 minutes earlier... GM Crack held his usual extensive 45 second beginning Circle and the pack was off.
Through the glass-encrusted and urine-drenched alleyways, we went. Flour was fairly apparent initially. Within several blocks, I Want a Fucking Refund proclaimed she was going to puke. Victim of one too many vodka/crans or too little recent hashing...you decide.
We made our way to the first BN, La Rienda and were treated to Mexico’s only welcome immigrant...Corona. Then, back afoot and down Oley Street where trail magically disappeared. Several hashers ran up 6th St. toward Cafe Waldorf and “found nothing”. Others circled the Rite Aid, before heading uphill toward City Park. At this point, the pack fragmented. A half dozen of us seemed to think checking out the allegedly closed Sofrito’s was a good idea. Meh..not so much. Grill Then Chill was equally a bust.
At this point, a rare moment of common sense took hold. Since the Apres was on Penn Ave., why not head in that direction? We made it as far as Penn St. when logic again failed and we popped into our favorite “Do I really belong here?” bar, the Penn St. Tavern. Breaststroaker and friends were happily ensconced here, with a line of tequila shots at the ready.
Having killed any remaining brain cells, we left to head across the Penn St. Bridge and end this debacle. But wait....a call from Foot Fairy ....encouraging us to head along the trail by the river. He assured us the next BN was “just a bit farther”. A photo stop and an encounter with muggles in the park later, we still hadn’t found the BN. Then...a true trail arrow...pointed across the Tulpehocken Creek. We waded/swam across to find the hares in the drainage tunnel on the other side...beaming at having cajoled us into further self-abuse. A cold beer and all was forgiven.
The final leg of the trail took us through the ankle-breaking flood runoff trench from the mall and back toward Penn Ave. We entered the Beer Wall through the backdoor (Amelia?) and were treated to a fantastic breakfast buffet. I don’t recall where or if we had Circle. I was far too fascinated by the abundance of serve-yourself taps. Having been properly fed and beered, fellowship was shared, all to the smell of bacon, sweat and the lingering odor of the Tulpehocken.
Excellently shitty trail, Foot and Crack!
On
On,
ToeFU
#1020 The Medicare Hash
It was a beautiful Monday evening. With no plans, I checked the calendar. Oh, there is a hash tonight. It’s close by! Sounds like a good bad idea. Got ready, headed off toward the on-out. Thought I saw something about 6:15, I shouldn’t have any problems making it in time.
As I roll into the lot, Bad Semen is getting antsy. “Dances, you need to get parked! Pack is about ready to leave! You can’t be late!” I’m wondering what the big fuss is, aren’t these geezers retired? Don’t they have all kinds of time on their hands? I get the car parked, throw some hash cash at the hares and off we go.
The pack finds trail heading out of the parking lot towards the new Sheetz. Maybe they have some Geritol. No Geritol stop, off we go into the Highlands. How appropriate, a retirement community.
We end up at the front door, wondering what the deal is. The hares show up with further instructions, we are to board the 6:22 bus and get off at the second stop. We will find marks once we get off the bus. Sounds way too complicated for a bunch of half-minds. The bus arrives, financial transactions are negotiated and the pack gets on. The few other passengers look on in quiet bewilderment.
The bus arrives at what was probably the first stop. No one was waiting to get on, no one was looking to get off, so the bus continues on. At the second stop, a few a the pack got off, but the hive mind prevailed and got them back on, after all, the bus didn’t really stop at the first stop.
At the third stop, the pack gets off. No flour is found anywhere nearby. A few not quite half-minds decided to head back toward the previous stop, and found flour. The pack continued on toward the museum park area.
Trail could have gone right once we got to the park, but that would have been too easy, and flour was found heading off toward the West Reading pool. The pack crossed 5th street, and headed along the North side of the creek. It would have made more sense to cross the creek where we had a bridge, since the South side would have been more appropriate for the direction we needed to go, but we were already one bus ride into this fiasco, so what else could the hares have up their sleeve?
Trail led us to where the other bridge used to be. Imagine that. The pack proceeded to cross the creek, although a few enterprising members had taken the southern route and avoided the crossing.
Flour led us to Jungle’s place and a shot stop. The reenergized pack then headed off toward the Thun trail. But alas, flour did not take us to the trail, there was some lovely shiggy to be found in back of Berks Catholic. The pack emerged on the other side, following trail to Lancaster avenue and across, ending up at Mott’s for a bear near.
Flour then led us down through the nastiest parts of Shillington, finally ending up at RUSeen for the on-in. Pizza was already there, and everyone started to dig in. Eventually we were able to get a circle going, where accusations were made, songs were sung and down-downs were consumed.
Swing Low ended circle and the hash went off looking for a piece.
For
the kennel,
Dances
#1019 Red Dress Hash
Whoever DIDN'T write this trash should be shot! Red Dress hashes are extraordinary events, well worth retelling...
#1018 Whip
it Good!!! Totally 80’s Hash
It was lovely day at the end of April; sunny, no hot, and no rain (perfect). The kennel was treated to “Whip it Good” hash shirts from the hares before circling up in the parking lot of Ollie’s. The 80’s theme was a hit mostly everyone was able bust out some of their 80’s style clothes (bright colors, and short shorts). Fudge Packer, Big Scroat, and Roids even came rocked out 80’s hair style. Two in the Pink was the tall a Richard Simmons look alike. And Hare Today Cums Tomorrow wore pantyhose on his head, glad the cops didn’t think he was trying to rob a bank 80’s style.
The hares, Hot Lip, Casting Couch, and Hares Today Cums Tomorrow, were called into circle for chalk talk. Casting Couch pasted out four different color scrunchies to everyone, while Hot Lip explained the kennel was split up in to teams based on the color scruchies and every team member had to be present at each stop to start the challenge before the team would be able to move on. (Sounds like a good bad idea!) As the halfminds took off, several of the hashers were taking head counts for the number of hashers in their group. (Boy what a competitive group! )
At the 1st stop, we were treated to several different flavors of Mad Dog and a Rubric Cub Challenge. The challenge was to get one side with all one color; that sounded better than getting all the sides. All the teams were working hard at the challenge by the time I got there except my “orange” team which were glad I finally showed up. Just Karen was not worried she has this challenge under control, in a matter of two minutes she complete the challenge for our team. Go Orange Team! The team next to us decided the challenge was a little too much, so they started cheating by peeling the color stickers. The “orange” team felt bad for them so we gave them our cub as we took off. The hares allowed the rest of the teams to take off.
The hashers ran a little ways to crossed over the creek to get to the stop, Hamm’s and Break Dance Challenge. Each team picked one hasher to break dance. Blue team picked Breast Stroker, Orange team picked Roids, Yellow team picked NFB, and last team picked Two In the Pink. Some the warm ups were extremely funny to watch especially Two In to Pink. I can’t even remember what he and NFB did beside it made me laugh my ass off. (Some pictures were posted.) After Breast Stroker did several moves some hashers remembered the moves from his routine in the Berks County Dancing with the Stars, he even wore the same outfit. Even with all of Breast Strokers well practice moves the hash favorite was Roids with his break dance moves. Go Orange Team!
Off the pack went to a Turkey/Eagle slip, Eagle went right down around the park while the Turkey went right to the next challenge behind RUSeen. The Hares went all out with B&J wine coolers for the stop with Simon Says Challenge. By this time several hashers decided to switch teams before getting to the stop. The half minds demonstrated even after several beers and shot stop they can play a wicked game of Simon Says Challenge. Refund, Orange team, showed off her memory skills by taking down two teams but Toh, Blue team, revealed his extremely impressive memory skills and won the challenge. Alright, Go Blue Team!
The pack was off to find the HHH behind Skateway. We circled, we sang, down down were consumed, finished all the mad dogs and had a fucking blast with accusations. The Apres were at Skateway were hashers could show of the rolling skills from the 80’s while being slightly intoxicated.
On On!
Suckie
#1017 So long, Swamp
Sitting in some pub wedged between a mountain and a stream, sucking down a Diet Coke, watching all the smarter people drinking Car Bombs. I feel 2 hands slip seductively around my waist – things are looking up!
“ Hey Bushy, it’s your turn to write the Trash”. Suddenly the Diet Coke is looking so much more exciting.
Lets start with some disclaimers. I cannot remember anyone’s names – real ones or Hash ones. So I am just going to make them up. Good luck working out who you are.
SWAMPS FAREWELL HASH or the Hash That Everyone Gradually Farewelled Themselves From – including the Hares.
It
was a moist warm afternoon as the pack started to form. Money changed
hands, a few sexual favours were given or hoped for. It continued to
be moist and warm, and continued and continued. After about 20
minutes the hounds became bored, and started to remove clothing,
search cars for possible dregs of alcohol. The afternoon remained
warm and moist …………… aaaagh, and finally the hares showed
up. It was a close thing the local pubs were looking enticing. Flour
was waved around, instructions about finding alcohol and then taking
it all the way to the back of the pack were given – won’t that
cause spillage? Elbows were waved in a general direction and about
2/3 rds of the pack waddled off. The other 1/3 including the farewell
boy, disappeared and were never seen until much later. Who knew there
was this much shiggy and wet ditches to crawl through in suburbia?.
The pack happily meandered around winding streets, glass strewn
undergrowth, boggy swamps until the 1st beer stop. A brief
discussion, and I mean brief, was had on the size of Fudgy’s penis
, and we all moved off. A few busy roads which in true Hasher fashion
we scuttled across without looking left or right, the weak will die,
more beer for the rest of us. Entering the cemetery, about 10 Hashers
decided to farewell themselves and short cut to the Apres. Hashers
meandered around the cemetery carefully avoiding certain grave
markers while peeing on cursing on top of others. Eventually the
trail lead down to the Tunnel. Apparently there was a shot stop, but
no-one could find the bloody bottle. It took about 10 minutes for the
hounds to give up on the search, however this gave Verna time to
appear over the hill she had been exploring and rejoin the pack. Fun
and joy subsequently disappeared as the foot race down the Exeter
River Trail began. Did I mention it was a warm moist day? The fast
people took off, and the slow people just took off all their clothing
and huffed and puffed down the trail. More bottles were found, but as
it was difficult to determine where the back of the pack was, since
again we had lost more people, we just drank in place. ACDC could be
heard screaming up on the railway track, (interestingly it appeared
he was running in both direction at once ), however we ignored him.
At the True Trail heading straight into a large muddy drop off,
Fudgy, Inu, Trash unhitched themselves from the pack and disappeared.
Now down to about 12 Hashers the rest of us stopped for beer and
water at Tofu’s vehicle. Tofu proudly absolved himself of any
responsibility for the trail – I thought he was a doctor not a
lawyer. Apparently he just delegated where it should be dropped. I
don’t think that counts. Whatever – your trail sucks and
apparently all the Hashers except the idiots at the beer check know
where it is going and have already gone there.
Off we go, down
some gravel road, and then for something different up onto the
railway track. I love watching Hashers run on the tracks. It’s like
a cross between a drunk who is having a stroke. The next part was a
piece of genius. The trail leaves the railway for a steep shiggy
covered descent into a shiggy covered bog. This is where intelligence
is determined. At least 6 Hashers made the appropriate – Fuck that,
response and continued on the track. However, 6 of us, myself
included, threw themselves gainfully over the edge of the cliff. I
will treasure the angry screams of Opto as she impaled herself like a
fly on every available thorny branch on the way down. It is a true
talent. I myself found no shiggy and was a mere 12 inches away from
her. How does she do it? Down into the bog and back onto…………..oh
my god, the Exeter River Trail, will the torture never end? The next
absolute and complete stroke of genius came at the end of the Exeter
River Trail. Parked probably within eyesight but not on trail was a
Beer Check. However the 5 dumbest Hashers ( myself included ) stayed
on trail, past the parked car, into the overgrowth where we then
thrashed and crashed our way BACK to the car. Again the angry screams
and cursing of Opto could be heard for miles as she once again
impaled herself on every available thorn.. By this time the railway
stroke people had come down from their IQ challenge and were confused
by all the drama and blood at the beer check.
Lets wrap this
oversized thesis up. A group of Hashers, who realise they are the
only idiots not at the Apres. We have accepted that we are morons,
but no more! We are going to run straight to this pub, where ever it
may be. Does anyone know where it is? No, not really. Well let us
demonstrate our intelligence and just run randomly anyway. Eventually
we find ourselves at the HHH. However every other Hasher is already
inside the pub drinking beer and refusing to come out. For some
reason we wait, we wait and wait. Eventually the smart Hashers come
out of pub and join us. We continue to wait. Oh, even the Hare with
all the beer does not want to be here. Eventually Not Twat rolls up
with the beer and the drinking and accusations commence.
ON
ON
Bushwacker
#1016 The Honeymoon Hash
Love was in the air. The Hash Gods smiled down on RH3. 2 Hashers found love. Yes, with each other. Angels smiled down on the glorious day when they headed to wed. Birds sang, flowers bloomed, and the sun beamed down. What a wonderful day!
Then the next morning they woke up and decided they would like a Threesome. So Pooperlicious and Cougar Bait decided to ask Optopussy to join them in laying down some trail to remember. Can anyone remember it? I know we met at a park in a development in Sinking Spring. I’m quite certain that all those fast paced Hashers took off and found beer.
I found myself on trail with our own Greek God, Bad Semen, Suckie Sucker, Beulah Balbricker, and Penny for your Twat. We wondered thru some developments and some back country roads getting farther and farther away from where we started. Eventually one of the FRB’s called Beulah to check on the 5 of us and instructed us to head to Paradise by the Slice in Wernersville. Because every threesome should end at Paradise!
When we arrived we found a lone Hare (Cougar) and some other hashers who preferred Drinking to Running, waiting for us with some fine Hash Nectar. We all loaded up into a pickup truck. There were probably 15 of us. Inside and in the back. Safety Third. We headed to the home of the Newlyweds.
Circle was held. Orange food was eaten. Down Downs were drunk. Accusations were made. Silly songs were sung. People changed their clothing in the yard. Family and Neighbors were amused. Dogs got drunk. Typical Honeymoon Hash.
On On,
Hotlips
#1015 Nothing but Crack Hash
Flash back to Crack’s “Nothing Butt-Crack Hash”
The hashers had to contact their dealer to discover the secret location for the hash. The official Hash schedule said location TBD. What the f is TBD, is that like soup of the day. With the help of Zuckerberg himself the location was announced about an hour before the start, ostensibly to keep the cops from finding out the super secrete location at the “Tennis Court by the Army Reserve”. Ok so this was the first Monday night hash of the year. Daylight saving my ass – Snow covered the ground but Crack, Fudgie and a great, great , great ,great past grand master and Cougar showed up in shorts, dumb asses it was nearly dark by the time the hounds were released and the frozen kennel scampered off. Lil Red Riding Ho was in good form and sprinted off the front with Eats Grammy in close pursuit. Soon the front running bastards were out of sight of the rest. NFB took off in a random direction yelling follow me, follow me, follow meeeeeee waving his arm frantically. No one took notice and nor saw him again until the circle. The sun finally came out at the top of Yellowstone park in Shillington where we held the circle. Then the sun set plunging us into near total darkness. We shivered and shacked and sent up rescue flares so the DFL’s could find us in the pitch darkness. In the mean time we drank the 6 pack the that the hares brought to the top by donkey. The beer bitch managed to save a few cups for down downs, then sweet chariot was song. A grizzly bear was spotted and everyone sprinted back to the lot. Lil Red Riding Ho, made it safely as did most of the rest but EATS Grammy got eaten.
Anyway, that’s the way we remember it.
Respectfully submitted:
Lil Red Riding Ho and Eats Grammy
#1014 An Old Fashion Hash
Hashers,
The
hash group met up at Deer Lake Pub and Restaurant for Hash #1014.
Beers were had and items were purchased in the bathroom for the
Après. Circle was done at the pub, where paying attention
during circle was important for later in the hash, which I was not
paying attention. Hairs were Cougar Bait and Toe Fu.
We
were off, fashionably late. Down the road we go, heading
towards a lake, knowing this was not a Rogue North Trail, I knew
would not be crossing the lake. Then came our first Turkey-Eagle.
I chose eagle. NFB, Swamp and I ran back down route 61, across
a bridge and onto our first crick. This was an easy crick to
cross. Around the fire company that was having a tent party,
back down the other side of the lake. Still running all on
road, pondering why I have trail sneakers on.
And
now to the check that would take us through the marshy swamp.
Navigating this swamp will be easier than what is to come. After this
marsh, we had our first Beer Near, or was it! If I would have
been paying attention, in circle (story of my life) I would have
known it was a Beverage Near. Packs Um handed me a Hamm’s out
of the bag, and I drank. So, I missed out on the Old Fashioned.
While enjoying our beverages, we watched the bald eagle in the
trees.
Off we go to our second crick. This one was a little
bigger and one foot was going to get wet. Now we are hashing
along a chain link fence going through a boggy creek, no way to save
your shoes now. Now I'm glad I have my trail shoes on. Come out
of that to a parking lot back onto the road where the Turkey-Eagle
were meeting up. NFP did backtrack a little on the Turkey trail. Then
we are at our second Beer Near, me still not realizing there's old
fashioned in the bag.
Off we go again immediately to another
Turkey-Eagle. Swamp, NFB and I go Eagle again. I ran the
road, some crossed a cornfield, we all met up at the same place, at a
Check. Pretty sure most hashers went up the 20-foot mud wall
that was a deer trail, which led to nowhere. After hunting for
trail on top of the hill, it was decided to go back to the road and
go the other direction. Swamp, NFB and I continue down a road
to a true trail marking.
Swamp and NFB went
straight down the road, I decided to follow the true trail.
True trail went immediately to a rather large crick or small river.
Looking around, there was no bridge in sight. Could not find
any logs to MacGyver a bridge to get across. So, I stepped on
in. Halfway across, I'm balls deep in this thing, I now regret
this. At least I had my necklace with enough beads, that if I
was going to drowned, I was hoping it would float me to safety (Thank
You In U). Almost across and the fear of going blind from
hypothermia is in the back of my mind. I'm out of the water and
I can still see, I'm not blind nor am I shaking uncontrollably, as I
have a history of this, and I am back on trail.
Ran
one block and there was the HHH in the grass alongside of house.
FRB was yours truly, DFL was NFB, with POE not finishing and
returning back to the pub.
Thank you
One Ball, Two
Ball, Red Ball, Blue Ball
#1013 V Day Hash
Someone probably got VD...
#1012 Ground Hog's Day Hash
And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. Yeah, that was like three times. And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. There it is again. And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. Seriously, I could do this shit all day folks. It NEVER. GETS. OLD. And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. You see? There it goes again, and lets just give it one more And so… like the swallows returning to Capistrano, the pack assembled for yet another Groundhog day Hash. You’d think I would have learned my lesson after the last few GHDH experiences. I KNEW what I was getting myself into – heck, we ALL knew, yet we showed up anyway. For those of you who haven’t experienced a GHD, Reading-style, Hills, U-Hauls, Hamms, Shots, BAMBA Lot, Trail. That about sums it up, but for those of you dying to know how this hash ACTUALLY went, well…. After a brief game of musical vehicles (designed to minimize our auto-footprint at the new and improved Antietam Lake parking lot) the illustrious Horn-O-Plenty sent a pack of about 35 off into the woods with all sorts of spray-painted directions, to which none of us really paid attention, and then we were off… get this UP hill. I know, shocker right? Trail zig-zagged up the mountain in the general direction of Rotary Park (and quite possibly Kugler’s Roost if you listened to the old-heads who thought they were “in the know”). Instead, we found ourselves at the BAMBA lot, downed some orange food, and hopped in the U-Haul driven by Bad (I’m only a Teamster) Semen. I positioned myself strategically in the UHaul – hoping to cop a feel from Choo-Choo (hey, I’m not looking for the Supreme Court nomination anytime soon, what do I have to lose?), and when the back door slammed shut, I braced myself with one hand firmly on the wall, and the other went explorin’. When we arrived at the drop-off-zone, the door went up, and I – to my embarrassed surprise – found myself faceto-face with Swamp who had apparently been the small spoon to my big spoon for the entire ride. I’ll be honest – I threw up a bit in my mouth at that point – but in 21 years of hashing, that’s not the WORST thing that’s happened by far. The pack alit upon another trail – this one taking us (surprise surprise) through a shot check, skirting behind some private property and (wait for it…) back to the BAMBA lot. Dude. I did NOT see that coming (and neither did Swamp as mentioned in the previous paragraph, but I digress). After fueling up on more Hamms and Orange Food, it was back into the Auschwitz transport, for a trip down the other side of the Hill. Trail started across from Rotary Park, passing yet another shot check (thanks hares!), and then back on some pavement for a trip up the motherfucking double-black diamond ski trail known as Polly’s driveway. More Hamms, more shots, and then some instructions from the hare to go back down the fucking ski slope driveway, turn left go for a while and “look for orange markings, and head-in.” Yeah so, ha ha ha the orange markings were on the fucking UHaul, so another ride in the UHaul, and another Baatan deathmarch up Polly’s FUCKING DRIVEWAY. Circle commenced once all were in, and while the rest of us were freezing our little tails off, Crack decided to take his time – I don’t know if he was trying to be funny, or if he was starting to experience the early effects of frostbite, but the little fucker seemed like he couldn’t remember the who/what/why/when of the circle. Liqour-Box from LVH3 seemed to be the easiest target, consuming a half a case of Hamms on her own (with a big smile on her face to boot), and then Trailer Trash was called in for wearing new shoes, making for a cold and miserable downdown for her. Then it was back down the hill. Being the experienced hasher, I made a beeline for Swamp’s car (Because FUCCCK walking down that fucking driveway again) – and we managed to fit 14 hashers into his poor little Mazda for the trip back to the cars. Apres was held at Foots’ mancave/swingin’ bachelor pad. Great chili, some tasty cookies, GroundHog Day Movie playing on Foot’s TV, and a fine assortment of beers. Shitty Hash—Shitty Trail – Shitty Apres.
On On, Decoy
#1011 Hot Crack-olicious
Don't remember the trail number but it was starting to snow. We start trail and I end up falling behind. There was ice. Walking up a hill, ice everywhere. Getting lost happened. Didn't see any signs of where I was going. Followed a set of what I thought was one of the hashers dog footprints. It got colder and colder. Walking up the hill full of snow and ice. No marks in sight. I went my own way. Getting lost in trail is my thing that happens on accident. Kept walking till I saw NFB and tried to run on snow. Me and snow do not get along well. I was told I went on my own trail and didn't follow a hasher dog foot prints.
On
On, A Penny for Your Twat
#1010 Swampsicle
It was cold...the end.
#1009 The New Years Day Hash
It
was a mild New Years Day as 20 or so half minds stumbled into City
Park to try and clear their bodies of the poison from the night
before... or give it a second dose. We also had two new boots in the
group, Just Jason and Just Clare. The hares, three beloved RH3 bims
had something a little different planned for the pack. We divided
into groups and were given an address on a paper and the groups were
off with their celebratory NYD leis and noise makers. First address
led us to the SouthEast Branch Library were we sucked down some
shots, got a selfie of our whole group, and then received our next
direction. Back across city park and on out to Hampden Park for more
shots with Beulah, another selfie, and our next destination. On out
further up Hampden Blvd towards Excogi’s Brady Bunch Home, but we
found the fruited whiskeys and screwdrivers at a closer residence
(HotP’s parent’s house I think). Now, here’s where the trail
got turned up a few notches and we really started sweating out the
booze... time to head up the mountain. The several shots prior had
the pack looking a little sluggish as they put one foot in front of
the other up the rocky slope, some hashers sticking to the trail and
others straight bushwhacking up up up. Finally upon arrival at the
top, we were greeted with more libations at the Pagoda before turning
us back around to go back down the switchbacks to our final
destination, Wanner Mansion (Beulah’s abode). We circled, we
accused, we sang, we swung low. Apres ensued in the mansion where
with traditional New Year’s Day pork and kraut, and a successfully
stuffing of every hasher present into one of the smallest kitchens
ever. Good times!!
~Any Crack’ll Do
#1008 Day before Day Before Hash
😜
Sung
to the tune of 12 days of Christmas
12 pricks a poking
11 wanks
a prancing
10 shoes a drowning
9 streams a crossing
8 virgin
tears
7 holes of mini golf
6 greasy pizzas
5 trailers
rockin'
FORE golf balls
3 drink stops
2 deer carcases
and
a hasher who got named Trailer Trash.
Yours truly,
Johnson
Gets Paid for Oral on the Spot
#1007 Boilo Hash
Picture
it….Reading, PA 2018
A bunch of us gathered outside at
Mike’s wearing our finest headlamps – Breast Stroaker, Choo Choo,
Dances with Whores, Exploited College Girl, Hot Lips, Nasty Panties,
Not Twat, Sinderella, Suckie Sucker, Tongue Ya G-Spot and two of
Santa’s helpers – Just Joe & Jungle Blow. There was a quick
appearance by Beulah Breaker, who took all our money and beat feet.
We got instructions from our hare, Any Crack’ll Do before he headed
out with the pack to follow a few minutes later.
After a
couple jaunts up and down the same fucking street we finally found
trail that led somewhere and were on our way. We came upon the shot
stop in the corner of a parking lot…but RPD was there first. Most
of us just kept on walking, but not Suckie! She grabbed that bottle
and carried it off while Hot Lips distracted the cop with her….hot
lips of course (and a friendly “Hi”). ON-ON!
Our trail led us
past some G rated blow up figures…lame! Clearly none of these homes
were those of hashers.
Beer Near! We found Old News
and Bukkake sitting at the bar at Sofrito. On the way out Suckie
grabbed the bottle she stashed outside in the bushes and we made our
own shot stop as we sipped from bottle just outside the door before
continuing back to Mike’s to find out what this boilo stuff is all
about.
HHH and circle was in the parking lot across from Mike’s.
Which we found out after some of us went into Mike’s and looked
around for HHH in there. After all, we are half minds!
<
Nasty Panties >
#1006 Santa Fucks the Hash
Hashers in there most festive outfits gathered in one of Readings parking lots taking in the amazing views while we awaited the arrival of our GM or more importantly the arrival of our beloved Hamms!! Crack looking like a walking advertisement for Miller Lite called for circle to begin, after receiving directions from one of Santa's Elfs which to the enjoyment of the hashers there actually was gonna include a BN on trail this year....the pack was off for maybe a block or two before all the hashers were stumped for a bit searching for any sign of flour, eventually the pack was on trail which went over the river and through West Reading to a wind up at a bunch of railroad tracks, eventually finding the BN on top of a rather large sized hill with much better views then the on on lot, for some less fortunate hashers there path to the BN was impeded by a passing freight train but at least a considerate hasher did manage to toss a beer over the passing train into the awaiting hands of legal...well actually she was the first to pick it up off the ground!! HHH was found by most where from what I hear a rather pretty swift moving circle was held, probably due to the fact that FF was way off trail and wasnt present with all his normal interruptions, off to the on after at one of our favorite establishments (probably the only place that would put up with our shenanigans) Decarlos where we were treated to wings, fries, and a whole bunch of great liquid refreshments And this my fellow hashers is where this story is gonna end due to fact that myself and Hotp had to leave the Apres early due to a prior engagement....Thanks Santa for another great day of Hashing!!!
On On, Old News!!
#1005 Always Sunny in Exeter Hash
Little Big Dick wass assigned this trash...guess he couldn't rise to the occasion. Little Big Dick was assigned this...guess he had couldn't rise to the occasion.
The pack met near Trout Run dump after a pre-lube at Liberty. Fudge and I were the hares, so naturally...it was cold and rainy. BNs were consumed. Liquor backs were ignored. Apres at Reifton Fire Company.
ToeFU
#1004 Pretryptophan Hash
AC/DC sucks and failed to submit hash trash...
Roids
Hares - the Beautiful OcotoPussy and Foot Fairy.
Time after time
I've done my trespassing
But committed no crime
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of down-downs in my face
But I've come through
And we'll keep on drinking 'til the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers (Team NFB)
'Cause we are the champions of the HASH world
And my hash name calls
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
I thank you all
But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure run
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
And I ain't gonna lose to Team NFB
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end
Fudge Packers are the champions
Fudge Packers are the champions
No time for losers (Team NFB)
'Cause we are the champions of the HASH world
We are the champions, my hash friends
And we'll keep on Drinking 'til the end
Fudge Packers are the champions
Fudge Packers are the champions
No time for losers (Team NFB)
'Cause we are the champions of RH3.
At Skips, we forced ourselves to drink our beers as quickly as possible. Thank God the trash can to my right was kind enough to help me out. Before departing we left a token of shots for the losers.
Suckie Suckerton (aka Choo-choo)
#1000 – the 34DD Campout 2018
On-On!
On-On!
On-On!
On-On!
#999 The Bookends Hash
#998 The Family Hash
#997 Lucifer On Wheels
#995 Totally Legal Hash.
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.
#994 The Float Hash
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.
BUKKAKE 💦🤑
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..)
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
#987 Whores N More
GladHeAteHer
#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
(Come play with us at the Keystone in May! I hear it's another Type AA trail.
🙂 )Thanks Breast and Hot lips.
The pre-lube changed and I was already lost!
With a mighty thirst and a sense of defeat.
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…
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
Just Kate (with some help from Exploited College Girl)
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.
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.
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
#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
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.
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!
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
#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??
Peace out - LBD
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