400th Hash (a.k.a. 400 Hills and Hounds Hash) Hares: Gourmet, Stinky Winkie, Sixty Nina, Body Fluid Hazard The erections said something about a “nig-ass hill” which had me fooled. Really, that was the only reason I was late. But I wasn’t the only one. Pecker Checker drove up and down Montana asking everyone where the nig-ass hill was. When he finally showed up at the circle, he had a black eye and no hub caps. There we were, actually, there they were, since I was later than usual and could not find a space before the pack made for the hills. ‘Usual’ is a relative term, having gone just over a year since I was late or even present at the hash. But who’s taking notes, besides me? There they were, at the dog park, looking rather at home with another pack of panting animals, scratching themselves, sniffing butts, and eating anything that presented itself as food. Mystic Blow and Hyper Hand Job did an exchange of dog collars with a beagle and a collie mix, and Golden Showers had a few accidental mountings. Other than that, the two packs kept to themselves, as most of our pack was busy mounting I’m Not Gay and theirs was going for the Soft-Coated Wheaton. Or was it the other way around? The chalk talk began and the fairest of the four hashers was promptly taken with the vapors when her co-hares misspoke. They then announced a cumpetition for finding on trail the most shoes with a beer in them. A city cop checked for rabies tags and a DHS inspector sifted through the flour bags. They deputized Hot Wax Me Officer when they found out her name and number, saying something about working under cover after their shift. The hares dashed off. The pack did a Father Abraham until the hounds began to howl and their owners complained. Sixty Nina drove off and nearly ran over me as I came dashing into the parking lot. When it was time give chase, the pack stopped licking themselves and followed the scent. All that is, except Got Crabs?, who hollered something to the effect of “shiggy ain’t cool” as he trotted down the road with a stray mongrel—or was that Penis Head? Down a short path, the hares laid a check that looked like a ‘T’ but we figured it must have been a erect ‘X.’ Lots of shiggy to another couple checks, prompt confusion in a creek bed, and then more trails downhill. Downhill is never good in Mt. Airy, because that means uphill later, just when you’re tired and have a dozen burrs caught in your knickers, as .38 Special might be wont to exclaim. So we ran down-down trail. We ended up in the creek. There was a Picture Check (PC), but everyone and his ego blew it off. Our wily hares next placed a Turkey/Eagle (Poodle/Shepherd?) split at our first—okay, our only—tunnel of the day. They also left us a bag of flashlights. Now, I’ve heard the expression about a bag of hammers, but some of us looked dumber’n both. We peeked down one tunnel, the Eagle, then the Turkey. The holes looked the same (as some hashers claim from time to time), so us FRBs took the Eagle like a pack of Schnauzers in heat. When we finally got to the end, there was a nice two-foot deep pond. Dah Gimp led the pack through until several dry-land hashers made a human chain to hoist each other out of the tunnel and avoid the water. Soggy Sparks did a splash down like a Labrador retrieving a duck, keeping only his head out of the creek. Just as the chain gang was getting efficient, the Turkeys started appearing at the end of their tunnel, taking an easy, dry exit on their side. Tight Sphincter led the way waving a shoe that she claimed she had found. Turns out she it was Unalicker’s, lost when she stopped to record crimes, imagined and real. Lady Ditech lost another one on trail. Maybe she should just get a Wile E. hash suit with the footies sewn on. That way, we can skip re-awarding the coyote to her after every hash, and she won’t go shoeless quite so often. Once we were out of the tunnel, we hit the first Beer Near (BN). Sixty Nina had some cool lips peppermint schnapps, plenty of beer, and a randy poodle. I got the cool lips and Eager Beaver got the poodle. We milled around saying how sorry we were for Soggy and snickered. Giant Tampon and Quarter Barrel wrestled for the last can of Newcastle Ale then realized it wasn’t a Schlitz. Unalicker told everyone who could not find another conversation how her unlucky (or was that una-lucky) car got hit with lightning, stuck going down a railroad track, and runs out of gas on the way to work. On out, Headwetter demonstrated a face plant. He did a pretty good job, because nearly everyone including Best Blow and Little Boy Blue Balls practiced a few along the way, 9.7 and 9.9, respectively. More checks, more hills, another shoe found on trail then another BN. ING, the most recent shoe finder, stuffed a beer into his sneaker and left it in the mobile BN wagon. 69a asked him what he was doing. He told her “I don’t know, but it looks like a crime to me!” On out, we headed back into the woods, scared up a buck, got to another PC, got mixed up, got back on trail, and after the 37th hill, finally came out to pavement and the On-In where Crabs? made his first appearance. Should have been renamed Got Cabs?, that shigless wanker. The hares were all laying naked in the dog park, having the canines clean the flour off them and insisting they really did not like it. “It’s more efficient than washing up,” Stinky was heard to say several times to a rather incredulous 69a. Circle convened at Duff’s. I left Homer in the truck, so the rest of us could have a little beer, too. There was little need, since Duff’s has man-sized pitchers. Hares were called forward for shitty trail and, in a rather unusual twist, forced to do a down-down. Before they could wet their lips, ING used a mother given name (MGN) and did a down-down, too.. Virgins: Beth and Todd. Jack NHN brought them both and should have drunk for having the biggest litter of virgins. Visitors: Frozen Kitty (Blue Grass Hash), Free Semen (Cowtown) No Wile E. On Trail: Unalicker (did she drink for that?) Hare Crimes: inducing panic in Sixty Nina MIA: 69a, BFH, Mo Balls, Eager Beaver, Jack, More Leggs, Porkless, Headwetter, PHead, 3 Way Time, and all Dayton centurions MGN: Frozen Kitty, I Do Boyz, TS, Mystic, Horny Again, and many more False Accusation: need I say it was our Dickerer-At-Arms The Unalicker? Reading or maybe it was piddling on a contour map prior to the hash: Gimp and HTS Running Off Trail: Crabs? Shower Before Circle: Soggy and Mo Balls. I don’t know if Mo Balls bathed Soggy or what, but I’m sure ING would like the video. Hares: for their nig-ass erections Missing the BN: Pecker Checker and Crabs? Running Across I-74 instead of tunneling: HTS, Next Time I Cum, and ?? Tech on Trail: Giant Tampon (shock collar she kept activating), Porkless (ID microchip in his neck that More Leggs had implanted last time he ran off), Y=Pi (brought her own chew toy, at least she claimed it was for chewing) Deputy Dicker officially neutered and placed under Una’s control: HHJ For being published and for cumpetitive cooking: Strox Cox Baxward (received the Betty Coxer Award for the most tasty pie or something) Cumpetitive Event Haziness or other pedigree problems: Crabs?, Pecker, TS, and Quarter Barrel Mailing w/o Postage and Raised Postage Rates: Una and ING Analversaries were finally drunk. I Do Boyz 5, Horny Again 5, Giant Tampon 10, Porkless 30, Special Blow 30, Penis Head 69, Suck This 70, I’m Not Gay 75, Lube My Johnson 85, Fourgasm 95, Hyper Hand Job 95, Quarter Barrel 125, Body Fluid Hazard 170, Tight Sphincter 180 Hare: Sixty Nina 5 By now the patrons were gone, Gimp was eating the last of his fries, and the circle sounded like a kennel. Order was not restored, so we continued. Those at the 100/200/300 Hashes: 69a, HTS, Gourmet, Beat It, Best Blow, Quarter Barrel and maybe a few others. Very Late Cummers: Famunda and Curdled Cum Engaged: Best Blow to Yabba Dabba Do Me and Special Blow to either some guy or a terrier she had met earlier Mugless Centurions: Stinky, Blue Balls, 3 Way, Gimp, and the rest of the hares, because when one hare drinks... Shoes: ING drank for his crime—cumming within a whisker of drinking out of the shoe, 1 shoe each: TS, Beth, Free Semen. They all won a flashlight and a beer TS drank for cumpetitively shouting that she had the highest number of analversaries drunk in circle. All Ho’s had to drink with her, which I believe means all the women that Pecker or HTS or Quarter Barrel slept with. Or maybe it was for sleeping with each other. I cannot remember anymore. All single digit hashers (those who started SCH4 hashing at #1-9): Phead, Best Blow Wile E. went to Una and Soggy. Soggy got him for showering with Mo Balls and video taping it. Blue Balls was in there, too, so I don’t know if he was the videographer or bought the rights to it. If someone has a better explanation, I’m not sure I want to know. Quarter Barrel and Frozen Kitty had a cumpetitive “show us your tits” event, ending the circle without a so much as a whimper for more.