My first hash writeup

I've recently begun participating in an awesome activity on weekends. The club is called the Hash House Harriers, otherwise known as a drinking club with a running problem. A pretty decent explanation can be found here, and the site for my specific chapter (or kennel) is found here.

Here's a reposting of my first hash writeup, which was for my third hash:


Recap: Omaha Hash #323 - First Burn Hash

I'd already begun writing this when Urine Sodomy piped up and said he'd take over for Flamboyatron, but Urine was nice enough to let me write this recap since I'd already started, for which I am grateful. Y'know how it is... when someone else comes before I reach completion that's okay, as long as I get to finish too.

The day was bright and hot as we trickled into Buffalo Wild Wings. The mood was good and everyone was happy to see Hand Solo, back from the dead. Our group grew to an intimidating size - so intimidating, in fact, that the waitresses apparently were too scared to take orders, serve beers, and collect tips!

Eventually, everyone was gathered up by Cock Controller, who brought the pack out behind the BW3 and explained the marks he seemed to think he had used. He also gave the group his phone number before he sprinted off. The crowd was then entertained by Tico Taz singing a very amusing song about the days of the week and fisting. Then people wandered off for a few minutes, probably to find the men's room of every nearby establishment so that CC's number could be shared. Bronze Bunz awarded Hand Solo the Bra of Backsliding, which he manfully(?) donned.

After a short trip under a bridge and along a bike path, we reached a beer check, where Triple P caught up with us and Tico Taz fell into a hole (and didn't even get her name). Then we continued along the bike path until we saw Hand Solo doubling back along a street on the other side of a field. Being the lazy bastards we are, we gleefully cut across. The trail then meandered through a residential neighborhood where VW did some networking with the locals and gave out some of his hash cards, and Urine Sodomy got wood that lasted throughout the rest of the hash (if it lasts more than four hours, please call a doctor). We made it to a photo check we hadn't been warned we'd find, where VW promptly dropped someone's camera. Once the photos had been taken, we went on-on and were very fucking careful of thorns, as warned. Lost in Pi taught Thanks for the Mammaries a song to help her remember the digits of Pi, which is a good thing because now she knows that Pi begins with a 3. There was another beer check in some tall grass, but I was more like BUSHED Beer on Tap (AM I RITE LOL) and I decided to brave the possibility of insect bites and collapsed onto the ground. After many people helpfully offered a wide range of medical advice, we finished our beverages and then pushed through to look for the continuation of the trail.

After a while of not finding the trail, Bronze Bunz told me to go ahead and call Cock Controller, which I did. He said "go right", which I did. By the time I found the general area based on this detailed set of instructions, the pack was already picking up the marks on their own, which is a damned good thing because I wasn't very confident in the validity of "go right", anyway. Some of us climbed a gate, for which we received much ribbing from the folks who walked through the huge gap (still didn't get her name) that was two fence segments away from the gate we climbed. We then walked along a ridge until we came to the Turkey-Eagle split. All but a few folks decided to go for the Eagle. At the last minute, No Name Samantha and friends decided to switch to the Turkey, and did so by running down a steep hill. (Well - running down most of it... Sam decided that the last several feet might be more fun to traverse on her head.) Where the Turkey and Eagle met up, there was a Hash Halt. When the Eaglegoers finally caught up with the Turkeygoers, the pack progressed through some trees where it looked for a moment like the beer might have been stolen.

Finally we happened upon the beer at the final beer check. There was a declaration of necrophilia (from Hot Sement), and some spilling of alcohol (by Tico Taz?), and a hare was snared (though this hare was much cuter than Cock Controller, and was released back into the wild, where it was probably eaten by its mother for smelling like humans). We continued out of the wooded area and back out onto the street, where there was a K9 police car sitting on the street. Several hashers had some strangely paranoid reactions at seeing this. Hand Solo and No Name Nicki ranged out in different directions to find the trail, and the rest of the pack seemed satisfied to chill out at the corner and relax. No Name Nicki was the one who chose wisely, and the rest of us followed her up a hill and then down onto a pleasant little walking path that no one knew about. On this path, Tico Taz answered his phone to give people directions to where he believed the on-in would be, and I texted Cock Controller who had texted me because he was getting bored while waiting for us to show up. (We both drank for it later, of course.)

We then meandered through some more residential area, and into an apartment complex. A true trail arrow pointed people into a garage on one of the apartments, through which we walked to find the on-in and barbecue on the lawn on the other side. The apartment, unbeknownst to the hashers, belonged to Bush Beer on Tap (yours truly, this reporter) whose husband was there with Cock Controller, serving up grilled brats, barbecue wings, chips, and all manner of beverages.

After a short while, Urine Sodomy rounded everyone up for the circle. Violations were called, songs were sung, beers were consumed, and virgins were deflowered. Halfway through, we were joined by Hold the Meat, No Name Amber, and Deep Frodo, who brought his little hobbitlings with him. After the circle was dispersed, the hobbitlings expended copious amounts of youthful energy by running around and performing somersaults. Soon they were joined by Thanks for the Mammaries and No Name Vinie, who decided to have a drunken somersault race across the lawn, much to everyone's amusement. No Name Samantha and No Name Tasha were wrestling on the lawn as dusk began to fall.

I finally began encouraging people's departure, and people left to go attempt to find the on-after at Tico Taz's place, where I hear they finally arrived and watched some Carlos Mencia and drank some more alcohol.

In attendance were:
Cock Controller (hare)
Urine Sodomy
Penguin Pucker
Hand Solo
Tico Taz
Triple P
Bronze Bunz
Lost in Pi
Virgin Whisperer
Spring-loaded Pussy
Whack-A-Mole
Hot Sement
Bush Beer on Tap
Thanks for the Mammaries
No Name Anna
No Name Samantha
No Name Nicki
No Name Vinie (virgin)
No Name Tasha (virgin)
Hold the Meat (just for on-in)
No Name Amber (just for on-in)
Deep Frodo (just for on-in)
Frodo's hobbitlings (just for on-in)
Bush Beer on Tap's husband, Mike (whose patience and devotion are without bounds)

If I missed anyone or misspelled anyone's name, I apologize profusely. You may spank me for it at a later time. Email me for an appointment.

Love,
Bush Beer on Tap