Tex/Mex: Day 2 – Whore-EZ

Well, on my first night in Texas, I’ve lived up to my hash name – Late Nite. I’m such a late riser that I’ve completely missed breakfast. No big deal! There’s always the Kings X’s down the block. How’s some Mexican food first thing in the am? or in this case, for brunch?

Just enough time for a leisurely breakfast and a quick change into my running gear, so that I can make the last U-Haul trip into downtown El Paso. U-Haul? Yep, you heard right! Although crossing the border in a U-Haul is illegal (not that wouldn’t stop hashers), the El Paso mis-management thoroughly believes that no hasher should pass up this experience (it’s also an extremely frugal method of transportation) for the Whore-EZ hash (or Juarez for you non-Tex/Mex initiates).

I run into Liqueur Hard again in the back of the U-Haul. She is such a trip! She tells me all about the previous evening’s antics in the hot tub (she must have been able to endure more than 15 minutes – it was too hot for me!). Why am I not surprised? Throw 20 naked people in a hot tub and some sort of rowdiness is bound to occur!

When we finally disembark in downtown El Paso, I run into a hung-over Brownie.

I ask him, “Where’d you go last night? I returned to the hot tub with your 12-pack of Yuengling, but you were gone.”
Brownie replies, “You mean I didn’t drink it? I was afraid I drank the entire 12-pack and couldn’t remember it.”

(cause it would be a real shame to drink Yuengling and not savor the experience!) Dude! Were you that drunk?

Of course, he’s not the only one that’s hung-over. My head is splitting! Must have been those d*mn Jager shots! How many of them did I drink, anyhows? Since my head is hurting, I have no desire to drink anything alcoholic, even though the game of 3-man at the beer check is highly tempting. Fortunately, C’Em Cummin’ has Aleve on him. Hand that over quick! Ahhh, drugs!

Now up until this point, I haven’t described my attire, but I’m wearing turquoise shorts, a MD sweatshirt, and my floppy hat. Why the hat? Cause my hair was being stubborn this morning and wouldn’t cooperate. When I take my hat off at the beer check (big mistake!), Bleeder (the DC one, of course – there are two in El Paso this weekend) and Is It in Yet? see my horrible case of hat head.

Is It In Yet? says, “That looks like more than hat head – that looks like just been f*cked hair.”
Bleeder replies, “Look at her! It IS just been f*cked hair!”

Says who? Haven’t you seen what hot tub water can do to curly hair? Look at poor Multipal Horse-gasm – her hair turned green from the hot tub!

Since the trail through Whore-EZ has been kind of long and I’ve built up an appetite, I join a group that are going to a local restaurant with wonderful steak and lobster. Yum! However, it takes forever for us to get seated and C’Em Cummin’, UPS, and I have to send our steaks back cause they’re not cooked right.

We go around the table and explain the meanings behind our names, but as I discover repeatedly this weekend, the G-rated explanation for my name isn’t good enough. Click here for the story behind my naming. I think the most interesting name at the table belongs to Multipal Horse-gasm. Let’s just say she has a piercing that permits her to enjoy her name….and she likes horses….need I say anymore?

By the time we arrive back at the hotel, most of us are beat and want to take a long nap. We have a couple hours until the bikers and babe party and we’re gonna need our rest in order to party the night away!

Tex/Mex: Day 1 - Lads & Lassies Pub Crawl

Squeezin', you bastard! This is what my drafts look like...don't you wish that you can wait for me to edit this bad boy? I ain't posting any more until I've edited this crappola - it's all out of order and doesn't flow right - does that make me a perfectionist?

Little Dinghy picks me up at the airport and plays the Tex-Mex El Paso song for me
I go outside in the frigid air with my plaid skirt and tank top and a winter coat
When I walk into the bar the first person I recognize is C’Em Cummin
Bleeder finally shows up.
I meet Royal Flush who is also an ex-White Houser.

TNT and P*ssy-whipped try to suck on each tit. TNT tries to buy me a drink, so that I will be more amenable to their attentions. Thanks, but uhhh….no thanks. I get the opportunity to witness more dick baring than I’ve witnessed in ages. Yes, I know! The purpose of kilts is to not wear any underwear. Well, guess what? I’m not wearing any underwear either! But I’m not flashing my cooch to anyone!



I go downstairs to listen to the outstanding band. While I’m standing next to Bleeder, I look to my left and whattya know? Is that Day Old Fish? Yep, sure is! And lookie loo! Here comes the infamous Brownie! And you know what’s the first thing out of his mouth?

“Wanna do a Jager shot?”
“Sure!”

Now I like Jager, but it’s usually something that I do not consume heavily. Tonight, I know I have at LEAST 3 shots. Recipe for disaster! I am totally lit. I’m dancing (as always), but who knows who I’m dancing with. C’Em Cummin’ pulls me off the dance floor and he and Brownie recommend a return to the hotel hot tub. Ooohh…a hot tub? Yes, please!

I go back to my room to retrieve the 12-pack of Yuengling that I brought for Brownie. I go back out to the hot tub, but Brownie has disappeared. The hot tub occupants want the beer, but I hold firm. Nope, this beer is for Brownie – I’m taking it back to my room.

People I know from DC Red Dress: B-Flat, Is It In Yet?, Liqueur Hard, High Beams
Now, Liqueur Hard, I never met at DC Red Dress, but I heard about her.

I tell her that and she asks me “What did you hear about me?”
“I’m friends with a mutual acquaintance of yours: Motormouth”
“Oh my gosh! You know Motormouth?”
“Yep, sure do. Were you the person that he threw over his shoulder and ran around the lingerie run over his shoulder?”
“I don’t think that was me”

Who's the Pervert?

My sister wants to have a tame bridal shower. Fortunately, one of her bridesmaids, J, has other ideas. My sis does have one rule: No male strippers! Hell! You don’t need men to have a good time! That’s an easy rule to follow.

First stop: a tea room. How cute! I love tea (I drink gallons of it at work), and this is such a novel idea (very girlie girl, too – Oh! Cut me a break! I have my moments!). I have one complaint, though. This is not a dinner joint. Sis, I def have higher caloric needs than you – don’t make me starve cause you’re not hungry. I mean, come on! You can’t expect that a little cucumber sandwich and a scone will satisfy me? (Maybe that’s the reason I’m always a DFL – I eat too much?)

Final stop: Sis’s house. Sis made homemade guacamole and white sangria (stuff is powerful!), while J brought pear vodka (good stuff!). J passes out the goody bags for us – and they’re naughty goody bags! Everyone’s bags have the standard fare: flavored lubes, massage lotions, and best of all! – a straw with a penis-shaped end. Most of the women are pretty shy, but hasher that I am (and bad influence on my sis), I encourage her to drink her sangria using the penis straw. I, of course, follow suit – you can’t ask someone to do something you wouldn’t be willing to do yourself!

Once we get good and liquored up, I introduce the next bridesmaid game: Who knows my sis best? The purpose of the game is for each participant to tell 3 stories about my sis. One should be false and two should be true. Wanna know what the stories I told are?

1. My sister is a true animal lover. She kept all kinds of pets growing up: dogs, cats, horses, a lizard, and a couple of snakes. She even made no distinction between vertebrate and invertebrate pets cause she even kept a pet slug!
2. My sister set our grandparent’s horse pasture on fire during a campout. She invited a bunch of college friends over and one of them threw a bottle of liquor on the campfire which exploded and spread the fire across the pasture.
3. My sister used to sharpen her nails into dagger points in order to practice her cat-pouncing skills on our brother.

My sis is interesting, isn’t she? Or maybe I’m just prejudiced. Guess which one is false?

J introduces the next game, which she purchased in a sex shop. It’s called Pervert. It’s basically the game “Have You Ever” with a board to track your progress and pre-printed questions on a deck of cards. K, sis’s college friend wins the game, but A’s little sister (who’s 15) isn’t far behind – what’s with kids these days? 15 is WAAAY too young to be THAT experienced. K is ashamed to be the pervert – why chickie? This is all gonna stay between us and I certainly don’t care what you’ve been up to. Enjoy yourself!

Strip Club City

My sister is getting married next month to her fiancé, A, and this weekend her bridesmaids are getting together for a bridal shower/bachelorette party. Well, I’m her sister, so of course, I’m a bridesmaid.

I haven’t been to Tampa in several years, so I def perk up when my sis drives down Dale Mabry. Wow! Strip Club City! There is neon all over. I don’t think I’ve seen so many strip clubs in such a short radius outside of Vegas.

My sister tells me a story of a bachelorette party she went to a couple of years ago:

Apparently, the bride was determined to go to a male strip club. They called 411 to find out where one was in Tampa (411? Okay…but that wouldn’t have been my first choice. I’d call a female strip club).

The name of the strip club that 411 found? The Male Room. And guess what? The strip club is a gay strip club! Now, my sister doesn’t have any issues with visiting gay clubs cause I lived with gay men in college and gave her a primer on gay night clubs by dragging her out along with my housemates (Okay! Okay! So I did party a bit in college – just not a bunch). I took my brother too, but that was dangerous cause he was underage (and apparently, a hottie to gay men). Sorry, bro! I hope I didn’t scar you for life!

In any case, some gay clubs are hostile to women. Badlands is one in DC. Well, the Male Room is one in Tampa. Did these bachelorettes care? Hell, no! Even with the gay men giving the bachelorettes the evil eye, those bachelorettes pulled out their $1 bills and stuffed them in the male strippers’ thongs. In fact, the bachelorettes ended up scaring the gay men away and closing the place down. That’s my sis! Go girl!

In any case, the Male Room is also located near Strip Club City. When we pass it by, though, the only sign on the bar is a flashing neon sign that displays, “Parking in Rear”. Wow! Is that a pun or what?! LMAO!!

Do We Belong in this Joint?

I am not wearing the proper running gear tonight. Sure, I’ve got my spandex pants and running shoes, but I’m wearing the most inappropriate sweater possible. My house is a disaster cause I haven’t done any laundry and I pulled out the thinnest, most holey sweater (without looking) from my drawer (cause all the warm ones were already dirty).

Ain’t got any choice. Regardless of how I feel, I gotta run to keep warm. I am SO not in the mood….typical female!

Railroad tracks. Ooohhhh…..how fun! You know, I think I actually run better on the gravel than I do on pavement. Wonder why? Any y’all more experienced runners got an answer for that one?

During the beer check, George Stuffed an Octopus calls me Becky. What? Dude! My name ain’t Becky!

“I’m gonna violate your a$$ for not only improper hash name etiquette, but for calling me by another girl’s name….in bed!”

I had to throw the “in bed” in there! Doesn’t that hash violation sound better that way? Sort of like the way you open fortune cookies and add the “in bed” to your fortune – much more interesting that way!

During the second half of the trail, we run through a section of Southeast. As usual, the kids in the streets are asking us why we’re running. You know, I’ve noticed a trend here…Why is it that when we run through the nice neighborhoods there are never kids in the streets? Don’t kids play outside anymore? Or do the nice neighborhood kids have more electronic toys? Hmmm….

While I’m in the ghetto, I’m behind the main body of the pack and start to cross a park. I slow down for a moment to catch my breath. As I enter the park, a police car pulls up. I ignore the cop car, but when I see my shadow on the ground in front of me I realize that the cop’s spotlight is on me. I turn around and am floored! The cop is 10 feet behind me on the sidewalk. How the hell did he get so close to me without me noticing? Is he looking out for my safety? Or does he think I’m a crack wh*re?

To the say the least, I run to catch up with the rest of the pack. I don’t want to get detained!

It’s a bit nipply out tonight, so I put on my white fuzzy hat and houndstooth coat. Last time I wore my white hat, I was violated for killing a Yeti. This time, I’m told I look like an English nanny. An English nanny? Am I really that much of a stick in the mud? I think not! The on-on-on is at the Market Inn. WTF?? The patrons in this joint have a pianist playing for the bar. This is the quietest bar I’ve ever been in. Of course, the restaurant doesn’t allow us to mingle with their regular patrons. No! I guess hashers aren’t good enough for them. They stuff all 50 or so of us in one of their back rooms away from everyone else.

The food smells delish as soon as we walk in, but the prices! The cheapest entrée on the menu is $18! The beers are going for $6.30. At least they’re serving 2 pints worth in a glass! I’m playing sober tonight – like most nights. Did y’all know I’m not a true hasher? Yep, it’s true. I hardly ever drink beer at the hash (Liquor’s better! I’m hardcore!). I’m a social hasher. I do it for the people (pun! pun!). Just Alex and Just Peter pick me up by each leg and hoist me between them. I’m wearing very low-cut jeans today and am trying to adjust myself so that I don’t display any plumber’s crack when D*ck Tac Dough jumps between my spread legs and pretends he’s gonna snack on me. Dude! You’re funny, but you’re crossing the line tonight! What’d I tell you last week about that kind of behavior?

Slacker!

Yes, I am just not motivated - wanna read my notes? I've actually typed up my crazy brainstormed thoughts (I have 5 posts I need to edit), but I don't think y'all want to see this stuff in the draft form...

To say the least I had a whirlwind weekend, but I ended up crashing early - What? No hashing on Sunday? I really wanted to go! Really, I did! But I woke up at 2pm (the hash started at 2pm) and wasn't exactly relishing a drive to Northern VA. So, I stayed home and watched NFL football without a hashing crowd. Yay, Redskins! (I'm not exactly a fan, but I've lived in DC long enough that I'm happy they won.)

Don't worry! I'll post something....

Put Those Away!

It’s New Year’s Eve and I’m heading to the DC ghetto to party in style. Party in style in the ghetto? Yep, you heard right. Rear End Loader lives on the brink of a full-blown hoodlum territory, within spitting distance of North Capitol Street (anything within spitting distance of that street is def ghetto). And his party? Black tie, baby!

Well, do I EVER have the best dress to wear! I’m wearing my $200 silk dress that I bought in Paris. I love wearing this dress! First off, the dress feels like pure sex against my skin. Second, it is the most flattering dress I think I have ever owned. Finally, and maybe most importantly, the neckline plunges to the middle of my chest.

When Obesiologist sees me he yells out,"My God, W! Put those things away! You're totally popping out of your dress!"

I look down and check my boobs. They're popping, but not popping out. Get over it, man! Haven't you ever seen boobies, before?

I take my shoes off because they are 3-inch stillettos and are killing my feet. I then realize I have a monster run in my pantyhose and take them off and throw them in the trash can. I narrowly miss Dano by an inch. Sorry, Dano!

Dano yells, "I thought you were going to give those to me, but I see that they were meant for the trash."

Dano, if you still want them, you can go digging in the trash - I'm sure those holey pantyhose will look great with your red dress next year.

I walk away from the couch and go into the kitchen to talk to some folks. When I return, I look for my stillettos, but they're gone. What??!! Where'd they run off to? At first, I think that someone moved them cause they were kind of in the way, but I look all over the house and ask all the guests if they’ve seen my shoes (I have to apologize, though, I was def a nuisance. I was NOT drunk, but when I get something stuck in my head, I sound like a broken record - a whiny broken record at that). My shoes have NEVER turned up! Who’s the wanker that can’t buy their own friggin’ shoes??!!

By the time I realize my shoes aren’t going to turn up, I’ve missed last train for metro. Oh well…what’s next on the agenda? A$$hole!

It’s my first time playing a$$hole (shocking, isn’t it? What the h*ll did I do in college, anyway? Oh, that’s right – I was a nerd). I make a major faux pas in the first round. Silly me! I somehow believe that by laying down 2 twos, and 2 kings will win me the round. Doesn’t do sh*t other than revealing my best cards to the other players. 3-2-1 F*ck Off has an absolutely shocked expression on his face. Dude! I’m not stupid! Just uneducated! I’ve got luck on my side, though. I’ve got a great hand. Have y’all picked up on the fact that I’m extremely lucky yet? I’m very good at games of chance (must be genetic – thanks Grandpa! Well, a good head for strategy doesn’t hurt either….).

Only 2 hours left until metro opens up. Lemme crash on the couch and walk out of the ghetto during daylight. Good idea!

And I Thought I Knew Everything About DC Hashing

As y’all know, I’m a dedicated hasher. Now I’m looking for some goodies to take out to the Tex/Mex Interhash in two weeks, and I’ve heard that DCH4 has good stuff. What’s even better is that I hear they’re having a pub crawl in Bethesda today. Wow! I can’t miss that! It’s in my hood, I get to check out the bars down the street from my office, and I get to hash to boot. Can’t beat that for an afternoon.

Well, first things first, I learn that Dead Hare is the GM. I didn’t know that! He hared with me on my virgin haring experience with the Sh*tters. I also run into Dust Balls, whom I haven’t seen since the EWH3 hash before RDR weekend. Well, whattya know? He's going to Tex/Mex too! I didn’t realize he was from Austin originally. And apparently he discovered my blog earlier this week. Hmmmm…..another fan?

Now, I am truly ashamed of myself today. I should be running (well, after my poor performance running at last night’s Full Moon, maybe I shouldn’t be). I forgot to wear a sweatshirt or sweater over my t-shirt and as a result have to wear my houndstooth coat to stay warm. Well, I’m not about to run in my heavy winter coat, so I’m walking today (booo!).

Second thing I learn about DCH4 is that there is no walker’s trail. WTF?? No walker’s trail? Not that I need a walker’s trail often, but it’s nice to know that it’s there when I need it (like last night). The walkers simply follow the same trail the runners use – how on earth do they keep up? Well, these walkers definitely do not pussy-foot around (pun! pun!) – they are some seriously fast walkers! I’ve got long legs and walk pretty fast myself, but I’ve gotta struggle to keep up with this crew (and most of them are older than me by at LEAST 15 years).

The third thing I learn about DCH4 is that there is no beer check in the middle of the run. These folks just do their thing and run back for their beer. Def makes for a quick hash!

Finally, these hashers take the slightest hashing infraction seriously. I get violated 4 times! 4 times! That’s a record for me! First, I’m a lightweight, so by chugging 4 beers within the space of 15 minutes is enough to knock me out. Second, I’m drinking some kind of Mexican beer – Texate or some crap like that (oh, sorry, will I be drinking nothing but Mexican beer at the Tex/Mex?).

So what do I get violated for?

• Being a first timer (nothing better than the first time!)
• Using the elevator to get out of the parking garage
• Sex on trail (I didn’t have sex on trail! Jeez, people! Apparently, my cell phone has the tune from Sex in the City. I thought it was just some cool salsa song. Who knew?)
• Sunglasses (Now hats, I knew about, but sunglasses? That’s a new one for me)

The ending circle ends with the traditional “Swing Low”, but I am criticized for using the wanking gesture for “cumming” in the song. Instead, I am instructed to thrust my pelvis outward and place both hands behind my head. No prob! I can easily substitute that gesture! Now after all my whining about drinking 4 beers, I surprise Dead Hare when I opt to join others in a round of Irish Car Bombs. They’re so yummy! I can’t resist. And guess what? I win the down-down!

Dead Hare teases the others, “Beat by a girl! Beat by a girl!”

I’m shocked! I never win down-downs. I guess drinking all those down-downs during violations was good practice.

After I sit back down, I find a nickel on the bar. Then 5 minutes later, I find two quarters next to the nickel. Why’re all these coins appearing in front of me out of nowhere? Trying to buy services? I’m not that kind of girl, you know. Of course, no one fesses up to placing them in front of me, so I start playing air hockey with the nickel and quarters.

We move to Caddies cause we want some food and the Harp and Fiddle isn’t serving anything other than their New Year’s menu. Well, you know those touchscreen bar games with a million and one types of games to choose from? Well, I seat myself right in front of one. Of course, I can’t resist playing with the touchscreen, so I start flipping through the menus to see what’s available. Woohoo! What’s this? An erotic game section? Yep, sure is. Let’s play the photo hunt game.

The first round we play, we totally suck. But once we figure out that we need to pay attention to the background AND the nude chick, we kick a$$! It’s also so much better to find the differences in the photos when you have 6 pairs of eyes looking instead of 1. I discover that choosing babes instead of hunks also increases the participation rate (Gosh! Who woulda thought?)

Sorry, guys – I’ve gotta go. As much fun as I’m having playing erotic photo hunt, I’ve gotta get dressed for the New Year’s bash tonight!

Karaoke Night

the Full Moon hash tonight

I'm a runner but it kills me - I meet Cornholio from AH3 and run into 6 of 9 again from Silicon Valley

Sing "It's Raining Men"
Run into P, a school buddy, on the dance floor - He tells me I was the social queen in school - I was? Hmmm...don't remember that - I guess it's all a matter of perception

A is looking pretty yummy tonight

One Boobie is Bigger than the Other

What a windy night! I already look like I have Farrah Fawcett hair, but this wind isn’t making it any better. The hash is in Georgetown tonight. D*mnit! I hate hills! Georgetown is nothing but one monster uphill run! But you know what? I don’t do too bad for a mostly uphill journey. There’s some good shiggy since it rained earlier and the trail is all bogged down and muddy – I’m a dirty girl today!

But even though I run well (for me), I’m still a DFL (I would think I would be getting better by now, not worse).

I meet a visitor from Silicon Valley. His name is 6 of 9. He explains that females can only fit 6 of his 9. Really? Or are you just telling me that? We are talking inches, right?

Now the best part of the ending circle is watching our RA stumble about. Zsa Zsa Ga-Wh*re is toasted. I don’t know how long she has been drinking today, but she can barely stand up. While the crowd goes wild with their “Lost Control” shenanigans, Big Bang suggests performing a “Shots Fired!”, as well (for all y’all that don’t know – that’s when the secret service comes in and tackles the Commander in Chief – in this case, hashers tackle the RA).

I reply, “You can’t do that! That’d be mean! She probably wouldn’t be able to get back up.”

We head to our on-on-on, which this evening is at Chadwick’s. Apparently, the bar didn’t expect so many of us because ½ the floor is occupied by suit types (no disparagement to the suits, I’m just not wearing a suit at the moment). Some look pretty annoyed at our presence (females), while others starting hitting on the harrierettes (males, obviously!). Once again, we harrierettes shock non-hasher guys by our blatant sexuality (Watch out, dudes! We’re some black widows, for sure!).

D*ck Tac Dough demonstrates for the suits what harrierettes are willing to do. He grabs me and displays his humping abilites. No this harrierette is just buzzed and doesn't know what the hell she's getting herself into.

I grab a suit guy’s a$ after Zsa Zsa dares me. Totally into the dares. Unfortunately, the dude isn’t that interesting, and quizzes me for 10 minutes on the reason I grabbed his a$$. Dude! Get over it! A girl grabbed your a$$! Hasn’t that ever happened to you before? Just smile, nod your head, and keep talking to your buddies.

Now while I’m having a fun conversation with Cum Dumpling, Quid Pro Blow and Just Katrina (I can’t recall what it was about – Bicycles? Kung fu? Does it even matter?), Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me and Just Elizabeth approach me from behind. Uh oh! Approach me from behind? Careful! Oh….I'm not a guy, I don't have those kinds of issues!

All of a sudden I hear, "1 - 2 - 3 - Go!"

Then I feel a hand from each chick grabbing each of my boobs.

I ask, “What was that for?”
“We just wanted to. You wouldn’t have stopped us anyway.”
E then grabs both boobs and exclaims “Oohh, guess what? Her left tit is bigger than her right tit.”

Really? I guess I’ve never measured them myself…

However, their antics start a precedent and the boob feeling commences....
Various people agree with E’s assessment after carefully measuring the circumference of my tits through the scientific grab method. I get the picture! No need to bash it into my skull!

To say the least, I have a wild and fabulous time. One of the best hashes in ages!

Drive Thru....What?

Today I skedaddle out of work early, so I can go to Chantilly for the hash. I haven't hashed with the Sh*tters in over 2 months. I'm overdue! Well, it's slow at the office (everyone's on vacation this week), so no one will miss me.

I'm warned by Jerkin the Gherkin that I will get my feet wet if I choose to run. I guess I'm not running, then, am I? (Of course, it doesn't help that my lazy a$$ is tired and stuffed from eating too many Christmans goodies.)

While strolling through the cornfields of Chanilly, I introduce myself to this evening's two virgins that hail from Lubbock, TX. Now it just so happens that one virgin is And How’s Her Bush’s son. Recruiting from inside the family now, huh? I totally give them the 2nd degree. (as I do everyone - no need to discriminate! You know, as my brain sidetracks, I can totally picture myself as an old harpy peering out my window spying on the next generation of rowdy hashers throwing hot tub parties at 3am 40 years from now.)

It’s good to get returning visitors, too! Gerry A$$ Tricks is back from Minnesota and Sideshow Jesus is in from Ithaca. I have actually forgotten that GAT isn’t a Sh*tter. I just assume he's just another regular. See, there! Some hashers fit in everywhere!

He def scared some civilians with his shorts and cowboy hat, though. Whattya mean it's warm outside? I don't care what the temperature is in Minnesota - it's still 30 degrees out!

At the beer check, I pick up a Bartles and James Fuzzy Navel wine cooler (mainly out of curiosity - I can't remember the last time I had a wine cooler - maybe the first year in college?). Blaaach!! It tastes like orange medicine! Nasty! I pour it on the ground. (Do hashers get violated for throwing away ANY alcoholic beverages or just beer?) Fortunately (or unfortunately for others), I leave the circle early to meet up with a school friend at the on-on-on.

My girl T (you know, the one that threw the re-bachelorette party) lives out this way and hauls her brand new housemate (from roommates.com, no less) to Bungalow Billiards. Poor dude! I think he's been blindsided! His jaw hangs open all evening while conversing with the hashers. T is an old pro - I brought her to hash social events back in June - nothing fazes her.

Gerry A$$ Tricks informs me that there is a Drive Thru Ho at some hash in Minnesota. Really?? Gotta find my fellow Drive Thru's, Driver's, Late Nite's, Late's, and Night's around the world, I guess. I'll make that my next mission...

Unfortunately, a chick the hasher men have been recruiting overhears Gerry A$$ Tricks' comment and calls me Drive Thru Slut. Thanks, chickie. I needed that. Nothing like a newbie to put it all back into perspective for you, huh?

Quick Note

Hey all,

I'm writing y'all because you're just gonna have to have patience with me. I promise to have stories of my antics and mis-adventures for you tomorrow evening, but I took some time off from blogging to relax my weary mind.

As a side note, though, Gerry A$$ Tricks wanted me to name-drop him on my blog so that Brownie can read about him in print. Not sure why that's important, but I already told GAT that I already mentioned him way back when when he nominated me for hash sh*t. Not good enough for him, I guess.

Oh, and Brownie, (you get mentioned twice tonight - aren't you special!) thanks for the Christmas presents! I'll give you a full critique later, but can already tell you that "Big Bootied Woman" and "Booty Call" are two of my favorites so far!

Hot Toddy, Anyone?

I’m up to more antics again on Christmas day. I’m a total clown when I’m with my family and today is no exception. I’ve been on a tea-drinking binge recently. Can’t get enough of the stuff, apparently (it is loaded with caffeine, though - I must be addicted!).

Pops (my grandpa), I swear, has been trying to get me drunk all weekend. That’s what I get for having a professional gambler as my grandpa, I guess. (Any y’all interested in lessons? He’s been at it for 40 years and still brings home the bacon – horse racing and pro football are what he excels at, though.)

He’s a wine drinker – nothing but Beringer White Zinfandel for him! (Please! No comments on his choice of wine. Stuff tastes like Kool-Aid to me.) He fed me 3 glasses on Friday when we went out for dinner.

“Pops, no more! I can’t take it – I’m a lightweight!”

So, today, I’m drinking my tea and he offers me some more wine.

“No thanks, Pops.”
“You need something.”
“How about something to spike my tea? Got any whisky?”
“There’s that bottle of Canadian Club in the closet.”
“You mean the 3-foot tall bottle on the swinging stand you brought back from Niagara Falls in 1980?”
“Yeah, that’s the stuff.”

I pull it out of the closet and my dad and my grammy look at me like I’m insane.

My dad tells me, “Don’t drink that. That stuff will kill you. You know how old that is?”

I laugh and pour myself a shot. Guess I like taking risks.

I also like the flavor of my hot toddy. Yum! Another please! So, I’m sitting at the dinner table with the family, having Christmas dinner with my hot toddy on a coaster while everyone else is drinking either wine or apple juice (ooh, a rebel! aren’t I?). Well, apparently, I’m laughing a little too loudly at my uncle’s tired jokes (which I happen to love) about how drinking whisky puts hair on your chest.

I tell my uncle, “I’m wearing a turtleneck. I’m not inspecting myself now to see if I’ve got hair on my chest.”
My cousin, A, replies, “You don’t have to have it on your chest. Look at my dad – his hair has started growing on his neck.”

I pull the collar of my turtleneck down, so my family can inspect my neck. Hairless.

My grammy is unimpressed, “W, no more for you! Someone take her mug away from her!”
“Grams – too late! My mug is empty. See?”

I tilt my mug and show the table that the damage is done. Again, I’m a happy camper.

A says, “Well, she isn’t driving home tonight, so she can have as much as she wants.”

Good philosophy, A! I’m glad I can count on you for support!

BTW, I’m still alive, so I guess drinking 25-year old whisky didn’t kill me.

Skipping the Hash

OMG!! How could I? I have moved heaven and earth for the last 6 months in order to attend EWH3 hashes and lookie here – a holiday party with a new, fun crowd sways me in the other direction. I’ve always been a sucker for meeting new people….show me shiny, new faces and I’m all over it….

Today is our workstream holiday party and since I’m the newest one on board, I’m doing my social queen best to talk and chat everyone up. Beware! I never shut up! The great thing about holiday parties – free food and drinks! We’re at Tommy Joe’s in Bethesda – not a spectacular place, but def low-key and great for mingling. I truly attempt to skedaddle around 6pm so I can metro down to Courthouse for the hash (sorry I missed it, Shamrock and Toothfairy! I’m sure it was a blast!). I am not very successful, though, my co-workers hand me another Captain and Coke which keeps me planted in Bethesda.

I’ve turned into such a blabbermouth recently – I swore I wasn’t going to tell anyone what the nature of my running group is, but somehow it slips out when I’m talking to one of my co-workers, E.

“Yes, I’m with a running group that drinks.”
“Ohhhh! So you’re a hasher!”
“You know about hashing?”
“Yeah, I ran with EWH3 a couple of years ago before I moved to Philly.”
“Have you thought about re-joining?”
“I need to get back in shape first.”
“Get back in shape? There’s no need to be in shape. I’m the slowest runner out there. Come back out when the weather is nicer.”

Have I finally recruited someone? We’ll see….but the possibility could def pay off for skipping a hash – wouldn’t you say that’s a worthwhile trade-off?

Christmas Balls Hash

What a beautiful, warm day! It’s 55 degrees outside – very atypical for DC this time of year. Beer is being served in soup bowls. Apparently, it’s less conspicuous that way. Soup bowls? Ummm…okay….

It’s the Christmas Balls hash! We’re going to run around DC’s finest landmarks without a trail trying to solve clues and find Santa’s lost Christmas balls (translation for Scrooges and Grinches everywhere: ornaments).

We run by the National Christmas tree (a sorry looking thing this year, I’m sad to say), Constitution Hall, the Reflecting Pool, the Smithsonian castle, the DOT, and wind up in the alley that was the site of our one and only catered hash (where are the caterers today?). It’s a pretty quick, fun run that really is just a series of ½ mile sprints for those that are more in shape than I.

I learn a few hash Christmas carols and get a songbook to keep for future reference. Very useful!

I earn my 25^th run mug. I can’t believe it! 25 runs already! How did that happen? PSA, you sure you have my hash count correct? Of course, I did participate in the WH4 camping trip and the Red Dress Run Fat Boy recovery trail, so they might have quickly inflated my hash count. Ahhh…who cares? What do I have to look forward to now? My 69^th run? Or is that an EWH3 tradition? I can’t keep my hashes straight anymore – jeez!

Bye, Bye, IHOV!

IHOV is going to Beantown to complete her masters degree. We'll miss you, chickie! You haven't been around long, but you Trashers sure make your presence felt, don't you?

Coincidentally, Beltway Bob's is being held at Wonderland, a few short blocks from Red River's place where IHOV's going-away party will be.

Toothfairy is there already and I tell him to order me a $1 foot-long hotdog cause I'm starving. It's a short walk to Wonderland, but it's still in a rather unsavory neighborhood, Columbia Heights.

When I arrive, Toothfairy tells me that he and Pimpsicle have bet on whether I can swallow the foot-long hotdog whole. A girl doesn't reveal her talents just to settle some silly bet! I eat my hotdog like a normal person. With ketchup and mustard on top.

DITE calls me at Wonderland and asks for directions. She and Friendly Thighs are only one block away, so I expect to see them walk in the bar in a few minutes. When 10 minutes go by and they still haven't appeared, I call her to find out where she is. She walked all the way to Georgia Ave! That's a good 2 blocks farther than they needed to go!

On the way, the two get followed by some shady-looking dudes. They're very thankful when they spot a police car and run to it pretending that they're looking for directions. You guys would have been fine if y'all had paid attention to where you were going!

DITE tells me she's having issues with her phone. When she pulls it out of her pocket, Pimpsicle touches it and it shuts off. She says it must be a “lesbian phone”. Interesting…

You know, DITE is very literary. She works for a newspaper and submits her work for publication to Spanish journals. Some of her work is erotic fiction.

Pimpsicle appears surprised, “You actually get paid to write erotic fiction?”
“Yes. I even have a story that is semi-auto-biographical and LNDT is a secondary character.”

This is news to me. I’m in one of DITE’s erotic novellas? How amusing! This goes along with my theory that I was a porn star in a previous life.

Pimpsicle asks, “What is your role and LNDT’s role?”

She doesn’t answer the question, but does answer that she has written many short stories in Spanish. Pimpsicle offers to collaborate with her to publish her stories as an anthology. Very ambitious, wouldn’t you say? But, he couldn’t understand the book even if it was published – it’s in Spanish, dude!

We head over to IHOV's party. Along the way, we run into this adorable toddler and his mother. DITE tries to be friendly and say hello. When she approaches the kid, he spits on the ground at her. DITE, you're not making many friends tonight, are you?

We arrive at Red River's place and are surprised to discover that we're among the first to arrive. IHOV did herself proud, though. She is quite the chef. Take note, guys! She baked cookies, a flourless chocolate cake, and made homemade guacamole. All extremely tasty and sinful!

What’s in this jungle juice? The stuff’s green, but IHOV tells me it's called Blue. After one full Solo cup and a few sips of a second Solo cup, my stomach is winding up in knots. What have you people done to me? You sure there isn’t any Everclear in this stuff?

Takes It Up the Ehhh is in attendance. Uh oh! He’s bad news.

I tell him, “I have a restraining order out against you. You can’t get within 10 feet of me.”

I cross my fingers to ward off his evil presence. I continue to ward him off for the rest of the evening. Like that really stops him...

Quote of the Day:
Nub: “What I used to be able to do all night, now takes me all night to do.”
I’m very sorry for you, Nub. Truly, I am.

I also wanted to write about the karaoke nazi that lives with Red River, but I'm tired and I've posted lots of stuff today. Maybe if you ask nicely, I can tell you that story another day...

I Need New Sneakers

Why did I come to the hash tonight? It’s miserable – cold and rainy. I slip several times on my way from my Bethesda office building to the metro. My sneakers should have better traction than that!

I think it’s time for a new pair – I’ve been rotating two pairs since June, but I guess I’ve worn down my New Balances a bit more than my Adidas (or maybe the Adidas are just better sneakers).

I decide I’m going to walk. I don’t need to bust my ankles on icy sidewalks. What??!! There are only 4 walkers? Half Pint, Mellow, SlipKnot, and me. I’m such a p*ssy. Well, at least I walked! Monday went straight to the bar from the beginning circle and the hares abandoned the pack as soon as the first runners arrived at the beer check. I smell violations!

And guess who’s scribing tonight? C*ck-a-Doodle-Do-Me! This should be interesting. She def has an active imagination! Ending circle is in the bar, though. Interesting thought and very considerate of mis-management, but not very effective. You can’t hear jack in the Big Hunt.

CADDM has entertaining violations – all made up, of course – but I can’t hear any of them. She tells me she has composed a new verse featuring me for “I used to work in Chicago, at the old department store”. Really? I’m still waiting to hear this song, CADDM!

Hashers can’t get to the bar too early. We drink too hard, too fast. Everyone’s home in bed by 10pm. What’s up with that? I’ve never seen such an early hash. Must be the weather.

Early New Year's Resolution

Exercise! Yes, it’s that time of year again. I’m thinking about all the turkey and cookies I’ve been eating this holiday season. Another concern is that I’ve slowed down my out-all-night-partying pace, so I’m not expending as many calories running myself into the ground. Now, I’ve never been one to come up with New Year’s resolutions and I’m a tad bit early to be thinking of them now, but there’s no time like the present!

So what’s a girl to do? Go out and take care of business! So I walk into my old gym that’s around the corner from my house, speak to the membership guy that still remembers me as a gym rat (I seriously spent 20 hours a week in his gym pre-2003), and join up for the same rate I was paying before.

Now in the future, I won’t be hashing and going to the gym in the same day, but it’s been forever since I’ve lifted ANY weights. Besides, if I work my upper body, I shouldn’t have any issues hashing later (a lower body activity), right? So I hit all the major muscle groups – all with free weights (except the chest presses – I use a Smith machine for those – they’re a bit dangerous without a spotter). Now chicks will never be able to lift as much as guys, but I’m mortified that I can only handle 3lbs on the skull-crushers. Where’d my muscles go? At least I could handle 10lbs before!

It’s 1pm by the time I get out of the gym, but is my exercise over for the day? No way! The hash is at 3pm in Sterling and RU-469 carpools with me. We are some dedicated hashers to drive all the way out there!

Damn! The hares say we are going to get our feet wet, and boy do we ever. When I survive the tunnel underneath Rt. 28 I’m thinking that’s the end of the water obstacles, but am I wrong! We have to cross a friggin’ river! There’s a cement block going all the way across the river (what’s the purpose of those things? Are they mini-dams?). I hike up my pants and stick my feet in. Brrrrr! That water is ice cold! Where did my feet go? I can’t feel them anymore. All the other creeks we cross later are warm in comparison to that river. Whose idea was it to do this hash during the winter? I’m such a whiner.

It’s a long a$ trail too. It takes an hour to complete the first half. Since I’ve expended all my energy at the gym, I’m only able to walk the second half. I hurt already! What’s going to happen tomorrow after my muscles get stiff? I don’t even want to imagine…

The ending circle is entertaining as it always is. I wonder who the new RA will be? I’ll miss SCFC – he’s pretty d*mn good.

Hokie keeps the Hokie sh*t (big surprise there) and almost gets the hash sh*t too because he had surgery on his a$ this week. He is on all sorts of painkillers and sedatives and is drinking heavily to boot. That dude is gonna go into a coma! Too bad he doesn’t get the hash sh*t cause the pack jokes that he needs a special display rack for all the hash sh*ts he has collected. Apparently, he already has one in his car – it’s his gun rack! Instead the hash sh*t is given to Read My Lips for inciting a fight with a black dude over his woman (no, I don’t know the whole story – I wish I did!).

Wow! We get FREE tortilla chips AND wings at Chili’s! Of course, I order a steak despite all the free food. Don’t ask me why! I could’ve been happy with wings, I just wasn’t in the mood. Likely story, huh? When are chicks EVER in the mood?

The poor waitress is swamped with all us hashers invading her bar territory. To top it off, there’s not enough seating for us all. We’re crowding the aisles making it impossible for the waitress to serve us.

There is an old lady sitting in the corner occupying a 10-person table all by her lonesome, but when Dano asks if he can separate the table, she snaps that she is expecting a party. After that, the dudes are afraid to approach her cause they think she’ll rip their throats out. Well! An hour later, about 5 people show up at her table, but they certainly don’t fill it. Nasty old biddy!

And finally a wonderful photoshop pic contributed by WH4's hash flash, Test Tube Baby.

Re-Bachelorette Party

My friend T just finalized her divorce 2 weeks ago and she’s celebrating her newly single status tonight. What a novel idea! She has reserved the back room at Aroma, brought munchies and provided an OPEN tab for her guests. That’s mighty generous of her! Since there are about 25-30 of us, her bar tab has to be huge! And I don’t get there until 8:30pm! Some of her guests have been there since 6:30! Of course, she’s responsible for inflating most of her own bar tab. Everytime I turn around, she has ordered another round of shots.

As soon as I walk into Aroma she asks me, “Kamikaze or Grand Marnier?”
I reply “Kamikaze”.

That’s the beginning. She buys herself blackberry martinis, buys me a gin and tonic, and buys RU-469 an apple-tini. Later, I walk up to the bar while she’s passing out about a dozen more shots. I grab one, but there’s an extra that no one has claimed, so I take it to RU-469 in the back room.

RU-469 takes one sniff and goes, “Yum! A buttery nipple!”

Well, whattya know? It’s her favorite!

T has invited a wide assortment of people to her re-bachelorette party. School friends, flag football buddies, co-workers. Even her parents are there!

I tell T, “I’d love to meet your parents!”

And so she does. T’s mom is so cute! Apparently, T’s parents have been hitting the bar tab just like all the other guests and are totally mellow.

I tell T’s dad, “T is wonderful. We all love her. You have a great daughter!”
T’s dad replies, “She’s a chip off the old block”.

Too funny! Her parents are so proud of her!

It’s great seeing lots of school buddies I haven’t seen in a while. RU-469 meets D, who partied big-time while in school.

I warn her, “Stay away from him! He’s a huge flirt!”
Of course, D acts hurt and replies, “I’ve changed!”
“Hmmph! We’ll see about that!”

Of course, D and other school friends tell me that I’m completely different (I keep hearing this over and over again – I can’t believe it’s that remarkable…). I’m more outgoing, laid-back, whatever…. People! When you have to study, you study! I don’t have any responsibilities now, so you get to see my fun side, now! Let the good times roll!

T’s party is an absolute blast! Needless to say, T has loaded her buck-ten frame with so much alcohol that she passes out by 10:30pm. Chickie, it’s your day, so enjoy yourself! But I hope you don’t get sick later…

She has a totally hot guy taking her home, looks kinda like a cross between Mel Gibson and Jake Gyllenhaal. She’s so lucky! Everytime we go out, the white dudes are all over her. Must be the Asian flava! Of course, being totally cute doesn’t hurt either… Love ya, T!

Shiner Bock? Or a Shot of Vodka?

Beltway Bob’s is at Hard Times Café in Clarendon today. I’m starving when I arrive, and order a bowl of their frito chili pie. How fattening! DITE does the smart thing and orders a salad. I wish I had your perseverance, girl! I’m really not a huge salad fan.

We discuss heading over to Clarendon Grill afterwards, but I’m not familiar with the band that’s playing and there’s ALWAYS a cover. OFE suggests going to Silver Spring to see a band up there. WHAT??!! As much as he talks down MD, he wants to leave VA to go to MD to party? Unbelievable! I have to tag along to see the impetus for his trek. It’s a band called Leaving Texas and they’re playing at the Austin Grill in downtown Silver Spring.

Lt. U-Wh*re-A drives a small group of us up there for the band’s 10pm release party. I’m a back seat driver the whole way! She’s never been on 66 or the Beltway! How can you live in the DC area and NEVER drive on the Beltway? Well, apparently, she drives from Lorton to Chantilly and has no need to traverse the messy DC traffic. I find it humorous that I need to tell her to stay out of the left hand lane to avoid a long-a$$ haul to Dulles airport.

Downtown Silver Spring is so pretty. I totally need to hang out here more often. Maybe some of my VA friends will be willing to make the trip out here. Or maybe I need to make some MD friends…

Leaving Texas is a country-rock band and is heavily influenced by Johnny Cash. Their songs are catchy, but they sound too much like songs I know already. One has a melody that reminds me of Johnny Cash’s “Ring of Fire” and another sounds like Tom Petty’s “Mary Jane’s Last Dance”. OFE is totally impressed, though, and buys an album and has it autographed.

OFE and RU-469 continue to brave the frigid weather by trekking outside for their smoke breaks. Before their third smoke break, an anglo-South African dude walks up to RU-469 and asks to smoke outside with her. Go RU-469! But why is OFE walking outside with her? Is he c*ck-blocking this dude?

After they return from their smoke break, the VA gang decides to head out. People! You came all the way out here and you’re heading out after an hour? Do as you wish. RU-469 and I are staying.

The South African dude offers to buy RU-469 a drink and she tells him she wants a Shiner Bock. I’ve already reached my 3-drink limit and tell him I don’t need anything. So what does he do? He finds out what I’m drinking from the bartender, buys me another captain and coke, and brings RU-469 a shot of vodka. What?? A shot of vodka? She didn’t ask for that! He misunderstood her request for a Shiner Bock as a shot of vodka. RU-469 refuses the shot and it sits on the table for the rest of the evening. Come on, live a little! That shot won’t hurt you!

After I finish my captain and coke, I eye the shot that’s been sitting on the table for the last ½ hour.

“Oh, what the hell! Gimme a lemon and I’ll do that shot!”

Big mistake! That stinkin’ shot puts me over the edge. RU-469 drives me home since my car is in Bethesda and cause I’m not capable at this point anyway. To make matters worse, I can’t sleep because the room starts spinning everytime I lay my head down. D*mn vodka shot! I sleep sitting upright on the sofa in order to get any sleep at all. I hate when I’m too drunk to sleep! Remind me to stay away from vodka shots at the end of an evening.

Steamy Windows

As always, I arrive at the hash earlier than the hares. Why do I always do this? Especially in the wintertime – it’s not like the hash ever starts any earlier than 7:15pm. It’s just more opportunity to expose myself to this frigid weather and catch a cold.

This time when I arrive, though, there are no arrows directing to the start location. I run into Just Rob, fortunately, and he is actually prepared since he has read the directions from the email. He walks with Cum Dumpling and I to the park on 41^st St. And look who’s here already! It’s Chicken F*cker and Just Shane. They’ve driven to the hash and have an excellent parking spot. While those two are busy packing stuff away in their trunk, I go investigate the park to see where the hares are and Cum Dumpling returns to the metro station to chalk the sidewalks to the start. When I return after unsuccessfully locating any hares, Chicken F*cker and JS have disappeared.

I ask JR, “Where’d they go?”
“Oh, they’re in the car.”
“Where? I don’t see them sitting in there.”
“Maybe they have the seats reclined all the way back. I’m sure I saw them get in the car.”

Well, I certainly have no shame and I certainly have an insatiable curiosity, so I just walk up to those steamed-up car windows and bang on their car windows.

“What are you two doing in there? Knock it off!”

They’re pretty startled, to say the least, and they DO have their seats reclined all the way back. I won’t reveal what they were up to, though – just let your imagination run wild! Of course, I also submit their names to the scribe for a violation. This one is too good to pass up! Besides, JS has never been violated before – she’s overdue!

I have to say that this hash certainly took a long time to get started. The hares are late cause they don’t arrive until 6:50pm and then we have to stand around until 7:20 to wait for Nasty Gash to arrive with the regulators for the kegs. Why aren’t those things kept in the beer van? I did hear through the rumor mill that Shamrock took the mirror off a passing car when she opened the door to the beer van. Can anyone confirm? That would have been a riot to watch!

Cock-a-Doodle-Do-Me is at it again this week with her flashlight. She’s pretending she’s some commando or some such by hitting people with her flashlight beam. Remind me to get her a laser pointer for Christmas. That will be more effective in “attacking” people harmlessly.

Kill the hares! Who’s idea was it to use baby blue flour during the wintertime? I can’t tell the difference between the snow and the flour. No wonder a large group of us get lost on trail! And then the hares paint an ON-ON on the side of a tree at the top of a hill diagonal to the check and way off the sidewalks? People! You do know that we are hashing at night, right??

All complaints aside, we have another naming tonight. O-beast-iologist’s friend that told the stories about the fat chicks last week, gets named Stairway to Hymen cause of his preference for meeting sloppy seconds on rowhouse stoops. He could have been named Stairway to HIV, but the females must have taken sympathy on him. You’re darn lucky, dude! Could’ve been worse…

Since it’s totally frigid outside, the circle finishes up quickly and we haul a$ over to the Dancing Crab. I change into a brand-new pair of jeans. Now before I packed my hash bag this morning, I removed all the paper tags off my jeans, but I forgot about the clear plastic label that runs up and down the pant leg. Halfway through the evening, I’m talking to OFE and look down at my pant leg and realize I’ve been walking around with a 14 Long label all night. I pull it off, but before I can trash it, OFE takes the 14 Long label from me and tapes it across his crotch (which he forgot to zip shut, incidentally). Whatcha trying to say, man? You need to advertise?

Tex/Mex 6

I'm travelling to my first long-distance hash! It's the Tex/Mex Intercourse 6. Day Old Fish mentioned it to me a couple of weeks ago and after speaking with Follow the Bleeder, I decided to check it out. A hash-friendly hotel, all you can drink and eat, 3 hashes and a pub crawl. It's over MLK Jr. weekend, so it should be a great time! I'm looking forward to meeting lots of new folks! Look out, El Paso, LNDT is heading your way!

Boycott Dremo’s!

I don’t usually drive because that means I have to be designated driver, but apparently, there will be extensive track work this weekend throughout the metrorail system. I don’t want to fool with that, so I’m driving to Dremo's.
Once I arrive at Dremo’s, IHOV tells me to call OFE cause he wants a ride. Well, what happens when I call? OFE is too TIRED to party. He’s chilling and says he’ll come out later.

“I know you, mister! You’re gonna veg out in front of the tube all night and not come out and party! I’m picking your a$$ up!”

When I arrive at the house, I knock on the door.

OFE replies, “Go away, you turd!”

“I’m not leaving unless I take you back with me….oooh, what’s that smell? I’m starving!”

Udder replies, “I’m making meat muffins. They’re almost ready. Do you want one?”

“Yes, please!”

OFE comments, “Yeah, eat some meat muffins and stay awhile, then maybe you’ll forget you came to pick me up.”

“No way, man! I’m chowing down and then we’re both outta here!”

Udder’s meat muffins are pretty tasty, but need a bit more salt. Never heard of meat muffins, before? Well, neither have I! Apparently, they are a new creation by master chef Udder Ho. Take Pillsbury biscuit dough, a sloppy-joe-like ground beef mixture, and sprinkle some cheese on top, and voila! Meat muffins!

I finally finish gorging myself on two meat muffins and drag OFE’s a$ to Dremo’s. He pulls a beer out of his fridge to drink in the car. Since he’s pretty quick tossing them back, he’s finished his beer by the time we arrive back at Dremo’s. OFE looks for a receptacle where he can throw away his empty beer can, but doesn’t see one outside the bar. He walks up to the bouncer and asks if he can throw his beer can away. The bouncer points to a corner and OFE tosses his beer can in.
All of a sudden, a dude pops out of nowhere and starts screaming at OFE.

“You’re not coming in here after you brought a beer on the premises! You just broke about 3 liquor laws with that trick!”

The dude stalks off and the bouncer tells OFE, “Sorry, man, I can’t let you in after he saw you. He’s the owner.”

WTF??!! OFE can’t enter Dremo’s? Uh oh! This spells trouble! OFE has a long memory and takes this kind of stuff personally (he already boycotts Whitlow’s for this same kind of thing). He swears vengeance on Dremo's and vows to never step foot in their bar for the next year.
To say the least, OFE is very appreciative that I dragged his a$ out of his house (extremely heavy sarcasm, here). He walks off to find a taxi back home, but Toothfairy waylays him by telling him everyone is going to change bars. So, we all head over to Ragtime, which is only two blocks away. I think Dremo’s is going to be pretty sorry they kicked OFE out:

1. 20 hashers up and walked out to follow OFE to Ragtime – that’s a substantial bit of business
2. OFE is part of mis-management. He can influence on-on-ons and such. There probably won’t be any more of those at Dremo’s on his watch.

Regardless, the night is not a wash. Ragtime is cool. There’s no cover, there’s a band and a back room where we all can chill and select our own music from the jukebox. Good times!

F*ck Dremo’s!

Black Fuzzy Scarf Top

What is wrong with me? I have a head cold and my right hip socket aches on occasion (I don't feel it when I'm running, though). I'm not old enough for arthritis!

I lose the pack almost immediately after leaving the circle. I manage to follow trail for the most part until I cross Connecticut Ave. Fortunately, there's a dude stretching in the park and he tells me what direction the pack ran in. I'm the absolute LAST person in. I'm so ashamed of myself - where is my posse of DFLs? Dick in the Eye, I've seen you tonight! Why aren't you running? Lazy mofo! Too cold for ya?

The brew crew didn't buy enough beer. WTF??!! We run out of beer about 1/2 hour after finishing up the hash. There is a surprisingly large number of hashers out for a cold night like this.

Eat Street Meat is a virgin scribe and does a pretty good job. He is funny on the spot and times his delivery well. I wish I could do as well as him. Although I'd like to be hash scribe, I don't feel confident with my delivery. I guess I'll just stick to blogging....

We have a naming tonight. Obese-iologist has a thing for fat chicks and cows. Since he has a doctorate, it's pretty logical that he should be a fat doctor. No?

Nub and Knee Deep share a birthday today! I buy Nub a bourbon and coke and attempt repeatedly to buy Knee Deep a beer, but the dudes are keeping her well-stocked. I tried, at least!

I love Dick in the Eye! She totally cracks me up! She has a conversation with Obese-iologist in Spanish.

After they're done speaking, he asks her, "How'd you know I speak Spanish?"
"You smell like you speak Spanish."
He's incredulous, "I do not!"

DITE brings Friendly Thighs over.

"Smell him. Doesn't he smell like chili peppers?"

Friendly Thighs gets close to him and takes a big sniff.

Obese-iologist is startled and asks, "What're you doing?"
DITE replies, "You smell like Spanish."

Dick in the Eye, I've missed you! Don't take an extended period off from hashing again! Keep your mama healthy!

Earlier, when all the chickies were changing, a black furry scarf was found in the bathroom. Since Knee Deep doesn't know who it belongs to, all the girls take turns wearing it. Cock-a-doodle-do-me wears it with her Elvis sunglasses and looks positively stunning. Then I run across Chummin' the Daughter.....

He's wearing a black fuzzy tube top. It looks like the scarf, it feels like the scarf, but it's around his chest like a top. Huh?

Knee Deep tells me, "It's one of those magic scarfs. It stretches into whatever you want it to be."
"Lemme try that on!"

I put it on and since its acting like a tube top, I have to take my white bra off cause it just doesn't match, otherwise. Big mistake! When you're only wearing one layer (that isn't very stable to begin with), you're a sitting target for hashers. Takes it up the Ehh keeps grabbing the bottom of the top and tries to pull it down, but I'm too quick for him. But watch out! I haven't prepared for harrierettes molesting me! Nasty When Wet grabs my boob! Since I'm bra-less, she gets a handful of furry boob. Aahhhh! I wasn't expecting that!

I introduce myself to Just Julia while wearing the black fuzzy top. She looks at me funny, but doesn't say anything. I'm a bit uncomfortable since the top keeps slipping down, so I go to the bathroom to change back into my other top.

When I come back out with the scarf, she exclaims, "Hey, that's mine!"
"I was just wearing it. Didn't you recognize it? The girls have been passing it around all evening."
"No, I thought your top looked familiar, but I didn't know it was my scarf."

Girl! Keep better track of your possessions! But we had some fun with it, didn't we?

At the end of the evening, I close out my tab and the bartender approaches me.

"Do you know that guy that was sitting at the end of the bar?"
"Yeah, he's a hasher - Bad Dog."
"Well, he left without paying for his meal and drinks."
"He didn't leave a credit card?"
"No, he up and left without paying."

Bad Dog! Shame on you! Go back to the Uptown Tavern and settle your bill, man! If any of y'all run across him, violate his a$$! You're giving us hashers a bad name!