Box/on-home: waaaaay off the road across from trail to Tarzan pool
Trail summary: Bro Run 5.5? None of these hares were there for the bro run two weeks ago, but they’re all original bros, having kicked it together in “The Great War” like a few bosses circa 1917. Point is, they’re old, and even if they aren’t as cool now, you know they were studs in their own time. Anyway, these vintage bros tooled around on the fire break road side of the road for a bit, then crossed over and headed to the top of Tarzan falls. They didn’t have the trail go down to the bottom, but, plenty of us stopped there to a) go Vidal Sassoon in the waterfall or b) take a pee break in one of the little pools. Trail then pointlessly tooled around for a while longer before ending as a circle jerk.
TFI and Two Buck Whore did some flying slash hare hunting. TFI stumbled upon Sawbones hiding in the prone position and politely asked, “may I please have your shorts sir.” Sawbones obliged, but not until Scratchy came out from his hiding place imploring his elder hare to stand and fight. “WE DIDN’T GIVE UP WHEN THE GERMANS BOMBED PEARL HARBOR!” Now Scratchy in full freight train mode is an obstacle to avoid, so TFI, in order to protect himself and his new shorts, literally put Sawbones in between Scratchy and him and did this awkward threesome dance (Sawbones being the holy spirit everyone always tells you to leave room for). Eventually TFI came to his senses, yelled on hare, and off went Scratchy to the road. There he found Two Buck. Our perennial flyer had a raging boner because in 15 years, he’s never caught Scratchy. There was some tussling, man love, and horse trading (at least one of those 3) before Two Buck got the shorts.
NOTE: Two Buck’s raging boner did not subside for 4 hours. No report if he called the helpline or not
Religion featured our Tyrant doing a perfect job at the FNG speech. Anyone who says otherwise is lying. He also did not go on a terrible fly. Another lie. We had a visitor from Sweden who was hilarious in only the way Scandinavians can be, and he sang us an awesome song. Our FNGs were minimal and middle deec, and Bush Master brought some gifts from San Diego. In the best piece of news, TOE STROKER IS CANCER FREE! This is awesome considering cancer sucks and Toe Stroker is amazing. She brought thank you patches for some who particularly supported her.
Tales from the trail involved a lot of the hare catching, plus some gratuitous nudity provided by Trampoline. Wait, nevermind, there’s no such thing as gratuitous nudity. Some of the finer ladies lingered in the back of the pack at the pool, pretending to be pillow-fighting mermaids. They re-Christened RRBs into Round Romped Bitches, and promptly showed all their derriere extraordinaires. (FaceJam, Brokeback Coastie, her FNG, random Canadian guy, of course Tramp, and maybe one other).
It was Minstrel’s birthday, but only his 39th, so PC’s present to him was to not be at the hash. We let him sing all the extended versions of his songs and even read from the Scriptures before a spanking tunnel for him and I think one other person.
After religion was a goodbye to Two Thumbs Up and Footfucker. Their adult names are Zach and Leah, which I now use as alternative lyrics to the Wiz Kalifa song “Black and yellow.” (sing it with me: “zach and leah zachandleah.” you’re welcome). Most of the stories were predictably about Footfucker, but they’ve made quite the great hash couple. They’re headed to San Diego in one of the AH3 retirement communities (Hawaii, Florida, DC also come to mind), and they’ll be missed. Honor to you both!
The on-on-on was beers and wings at Wanker’s pad. Those of us who stayed long enough got treated to grilled venison provided by Mary Pissmiss (shhh. Don’t tell Bambi).
On-on to the 1812! (the trail, not the war).
“What happens on the hash, stays on the hash...except when it’s written in the hash trash.”