ReHash #228  "The Virgin(ian) Takeover"
Date:  Saturday, March 9, 2002, 3 pm
Location: Thriftway, West Galbraith Road, North College Hill
Hare(s):  Laa-Laa (Chip-N-Fail was MIA)

I approached this Hash with more than the usual amount of trepidation, since the last attempted takeover of SinCity by a Virgin(ian) was done by Pussy Whipped, but I digress . . . .

So we gathered on the windswept plains of North College Hill (first time ever for a hash) to see what Laa-Laa and Chip-N-Fail had in store for us. Except Chip had lived up to his name and failed us once again, so it was to be a solo adventure by Laa-Laa, and an adventure it was.  Wanks, in alphabetical order, were as follows:

Anal Vice

Beat It

Best Blow

Blue Balls

Dah Gimp

Damaged Goods

Eatapus

Fagwhore

Golden Showers

Holy Fuck

Hot Tub Slut

Laa-Laa

Lube My Johnson

Mark NHN Carle

Mystic Blow

Neon Knockers

Pecker Checker

Rusty Prick

Scooby Doo Em

Scum Sucking Fecal Feeliac

Shawn NHN Loftus

Smegma

Stacy NHN Stuck

Stinky Winkie

Termite

The Unalicker

Tight Sphincter

U Suck We Hate U

Vommitt Dog

Wedgie

The winds were blowing in from the West, threatening rain or possibly snow as the temperature continued to drop, and various hashers went back to their vehicles in search of another layer of clothing.  Lube My Johnson came straight from a rugby match (sounds cumpetitive) covered in mud, Best Blow locked his keys in his car again, Neon and Unalicker arrived late, and everything was pretty normal.

The Pack was informed by the Hare that we would be following the traditions of the Ft. Eustis (aka Ft. Useless) H3, allegedly the "oldest continuous hash in the U.S.," or some such, with their 1,600th (!?) hash being run concurrently this date with our 228th.  Can you say "Get a life?".  So we listened more attentively than usual to the Hash Talk.  A check was three marks in a triangle rather than an "X," a boob check was more anatomically correct than we usually see in these parts (maybe because we don't usually see boobs in these parts), and the other marks were fairly similar to ours. Oh, and the Beer-Near was to be marked with some sort of a bunny doll.

So the Hare tucked Homer into his vest (more about Homer later) and was off East along Galbraith and out of sight.  Because of the wind and cold we decided to forego "Father Abraham" (that's a good thing) and the Official Hash Legal Waiver of All Rights (not a good thing), and tried to keep warm for the next ten minutes.

Finally the Pack was off, following Galbraith for several blocks, then crossing the street into the entrance for the Clovernook School for the Blind, or as it is now known in politically correct terms, the School for the Visually Challenged.  But I digress . . .
We ran around the back of the school and across a very wet ball field, and into a small wooded area.  I got to a check near a small stream and kept running, eventually making a sweep North and East, through a subdivision, across backyards, and back out to Galbraith Road.  The only other hasher I spotted during this time was Golden Showers , paralleling between me and Galbraith Road, which made me kinda nervous. We found absolutely no sign of trail. There's nothing like a major long-cut to start off the hash and get the blood flowing. Eventually circling back to the school, and the aforementioned check, I realized trail had gone along the creek and HEADed South back towards Galbraith and the start area.  The Pack had already found the Beer-Near at the mouth of a tunnel under Galbraith and was long gone, judging by the empty beer cans strewn about.  The tunnel looked very wet and cold and dark.  So, discretion being the better part of valor, especially when you're DFL, I grabbed a beer and HEADed overland in search of trail and/or another member of the Pack.  The first wank I encountered was Pecker Checker, late-cumming, in search of the same Beer-Near. No sooner had I crossed back over Galbraith than I spied Laa-Laa by the cars, and various hashers returning from their vain search for trail.  Apparently few were foolish enough to enter the tunnel, and even fewer found trail at the other end, so most everyone significantly cut the trail short, spending a grand total of 35-40 minutes on trail.

Neon actually suggested that we go back out in search of the other half of the trail, but no one would take her up on the idea and it failed for a lack of a second.

Anyway, Laa-Laa then directed everyone to sign in on the pavement in chalk, which we did dutifully.  Another Ft. Eustis tradition.  Once the bulk of the group had returned erections were given to the On-On-In at the VFW in Groesbeck and we were off West on Galbraith.  Laa-Laa went to the Thriftway and was not seen for another 15 minutes. But I digress . . .

At the VFW confusion reigned.  Nothing new for a hash, but this was more than normal. No one seemed to know where we were to go, and the vets inside did not want us in there with them where it was nice and warm, so we were eventually informed that a keg of beer was to be delivered to the patio out back.  Which would have been a good idea anytime from Memorial Day to Labor Day, but not This Day.  Laa-Laa eventually showed up with a large container of fried chicken, and some potato chips, which were quickly consumed, partly out of hunger but mostly in an attempt to get warm, using the chicken as handwarmers. Can you say "feeding frenzy?" A vote was taken -- democratically as always -- and we decided to move the On-On-In to the Lucky Lady Bar on Hamilton Avenue in Mt. Healthy, which Pecker Checker had noticed on his way in to the hash.  So again we piled into our vehicles and HEADed off in search of beer.  As I led the way North on Hamilton I spied Len's Inn, and quickly stopped to see if it was hospitable for hashers.  They had draft beer, at $5.25 a pitcher, and a reasonable amount of room, so we flagged down the passing hashers, made cell phone calls to others to tell them not to go to the VFW, someone went back to Thriftway to inform Best Blow and Blue Balls to cum to Len's after AAA showed up, and eventually the Circle was opened. It had taken twice as long to get to the On-On-In as it had taken to run the trail, but finally we were settled.

Vommitt ran the Circle. The first order of business was to call the Hare into the Circle for some well-deserved abuse.  Various and numerous hare crimes were described, and then Smegma led the group in a rousing rendition of "Here's to the Hare."

Shawn, a virgin who Damaged Goods made cum, and Stacy, who Unalicker made cum, were introduced and welcummed and serenaded with "Why Were They Born?" 

Then our two visitors, Laa-Laa from Ft. Eustis and Eat-a-Puss from West Palm Beach, were welcummed with "The Name of the Game is 20 Toes."

We were informed that there had been not one, but two hare snares, by Gimp and Best Blow, respectively, so Laa-Laa drank again.  "His One Skin," with a fine addendum sung by Laa-Laa himself, "Roll Back, Roll Back, Oh Roll Back My Foreskin for Me."

U Suck We Hate U drank for sitting in the Circle, along with Anal Vice, who was recognized as the Front Running Bastard, Neon as the First Bitch In, and Gimp for being Dead Fucking Last, another Ft. Eustis tradition at each hash.

Other crimes included Vommitt Dog for the ratty-looking sweater he wore, Wedgie, Golden Showers and Holy Fuck for no whistles, and Lube My Johnson for having cum to the hash covered in mud, looking not unlike those folks in Australia who cover themselves in mud for some reason.  To ward off bugs, I think.  But I digress . . .

After a long absence Homer reappeared, with his carrying case, and in Pubic Offender's conspicuous absence was temporarily given to Unalicker for safekeeping.  There were also inquiries made as to the whereabouts of Wile E., PO and SCH4nort, but no one knew or cared.  (Actually that's not entirely true, we do care about Wile E.)

Stinky Winkie then announced hash analversaries, Fecal Feeliac for 50 (he's now the proud owner of an SCH4 fag bag -- wear it in good health, but not to The Dock) and Neon for 125.  "Get A Life."  And Damaged Goods was acknowledged for being MIA, with a down-down and another new song from Laa-Laa.

Various other putative crimes were alleged by the members of the unruly pack, including Rusty for a lost article (jacket), Blue Balls and Best Blow for being late-cummers to the Circle after AAA finally showed up, Wedgie for a lost lanyard, and Termite for some reason.  "They're the Meanest."  Followed by Best Blow for hash analversary number 130, "Happy Analversary, FU."  And Unalicker drank for a lost mug, and another for HEADgear, as usual, to the tune of her favorite song, the one that talks about bitchin' and the kitchen, doin' what she likes where she likes.

Dumb Ass Announcements were given as usual, including the upcumming Green Dress Pub Run Hash in Middletown on March 16 (thought I would plug that) and the Nash Hash in Dayton August 23-25. With that the Circle was temporarily closed, only to be reopened to acknowledge RU Deep and Tight Sphincter as late-cummers, both of whom were all dressed up and made-up and shiny, and didn't look at all like hashers.  More like poseurs, especially TS , who proudly announced that the only reason she was there was because she had -- and I quote -- "Nothing better to do."  But she signed in and paid her $5 and it was all good, right TS? WHATEVER. After a rendition of "Sally in the Alley," and a guerilla down-down for the entire group, to finish off the beer, the Circle was again closed. 

Money was collected and more -- much more -- beer was ordered and consumed, and the On-After continued at Len's, with RU and Pecker Checker demonstrating their swing dancing skills. We had successfully resisted the Virgin(ian) Takeover -- proving once again that The South Will (Not) Rise Again -- and amused the regulars at Len's, and "It Was All Good," as TS would say, "In Bed," as Quarter Barrel would add.   May the Hash Go In Peace and Get A Piece.

Disrespectfully submitted,

Hot Tub Slut