Hockessin Hash House Harriers History

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Hash Details
Hash Number:1337
What:Hockessin Hash #1337 - A Very Mardi Gras Hash
When:Feb. 22, 2020
Where:521 W. Main Street, Christiana, DE
Hares:Bunion Butt
Wet Lay
What: Hockessin Hash # 1337 - A Very Mardi Gras Hash
When: Saturday, February 22, 2020 at 3:00 HST
Where: Christiana Town Center shopping center in beautiful downtown Christiana Delaware
Who Hare: Wet Lay & Bunion Butt
Hash Cash: $7.00
Friendlies: Doggies are whole-heartedly welcomed on trail and the well-behaved ones at Apres. I guess you can drag along kids if you've got no other child care choices.
What Else: Powerful Hurricane libations promised. Delicious Mardi Gras Carniva'le and Vegetiva'le dishes promised. A dry trail is promised. One of these statements is false.
D'Erections: From I-95, take Exit 3 (Rt 273 East toward Dover). You'll quickly pass Delmarva Power site on your left, then turn left into Christiana Town Center. Wander back to a rear parking lot near the Club Champion golf shop. Park. Hurricane. Hash. Or map yourself to 521 W. Main Street, Christiana DE 19702.
Baby Jessica
Beulah Ball-Breaker
Bumpy Beaver
Bunion Butt
Cause for Blindness
Circle Jerk
Dead End
Devil Woman
Dirty Wet Pussy
Do Me On the Beach
Fast Eddie
Horny Hands
Jewel of Duh-Nile
Lost Penis
Mary Fucking Poppins
Pickle Dick
Pounds It in the Can
Rubber Ripper
Smells Like Hash Spirit
The Wetter the Better
Weird Al Spanks the Bitch
Wet Lay
Hash Trash
Trash for Hockessin Hash #1337
So, the slobbering pack met up in the ass-end of the Christiana Town Center parking lot on a sunny, near 50-ish degree afternoon of Saturday, February 22nd, 2020 A.D. for H4’s annal Mardi Gras Hash. Hashers I remember being present at some point or other included: Do Me On the Beach, Circle Jerk with Fast Eddie, NecroPheelMeUp, PubeHeAteHer, Mary Fucking Poppins, Slut Master, Devil Woman, Skidmarks, Lost Penis, Pickle Dick, Dead End, Port-A-Ho, Jewel of Duh-Nile, Rubber Ripper, Pounded In the Can, Asshopper, The Wetter the Better, Dirty Wet Pussy, Horny Hands, Bitchard, Weird Al, Bumpy Beaver, Beulah Ballbreaker, Groper, Smells Like Hash Spirit, Baby Jessica, Just Louis, Cause for Blindness, Just Caitlin and . . .?
Our hares for today were, of course, Wet Lay and Bunion Butt who somehow managed to receive a beautiful weather day from the hash gods because no RA was present to take credit. And so, we donned some beads and soaked up some sun whilst slurping down some fine hurricane drinks and a few fine brewskies as the hashers trickled in. As many of us reminisced about swimming on trail last year, our long-lost Jewel of Duh-Nile showed us the swim trunks he brought, just in case things got a little moist today. And once we realized that no RA was showing up today, Skidmarks and MFP were jointly appointed as Bunion blatted a few notes on his horn to gather us up. Wet Lay produced a virgin, Just Caitlin for us to sacrifice, er introduce to hashing as Bunion threw down some slightly off-white substance on the ground, which may or may not have been flour. We were to look for these off-white blobs as well as blue chalk and pink ribbons. There were to be some checks, some falses, perhaps a check-back and most-definitely a beer near or hurricane near. And once he remembered where to point us, Bunion threw-down an arrow directing us to Head straight into the shiggy at the end of the parking lot.
So, round the drainage pond went the hashers and into an area of tall, dead, pointy reeds which also contained many thorns, thus producing much blood throughout trail. We also encountered some shoe-sucking mud, depending on where one stepped and a water crossing or two before trail popped us out onto a road in an industrial area. A check had the smarter wanks Head-ing left whilst the dimmer ones followed Pube past a False for a while. Butt eventually, everyone righted themselves back on course and arrived shortly thereafter at the first Beer Near. And so, we sipped our suds in the midst of the construction equipment as we watched the wanks trickle in from across the grassy knoll. Since Rubber Ripper was first to arrive, the hare bestowed upon him the honor of carrying the backpack of hurricanes to the next stop. So, once we drank our fill, it was time to get on-out to the next drink stop, so ...
We Head-ed Head-long into some more shiggy following the pink ribbons and dodging more sharp, pointy objects along the way until we at last came to the Hurricane Near stop in a clearing next to I-95. It has been at least 5 minutes since most of the hashers had a drink, so the keeper of the backpack, Rubber Ripper was wrestled to the ground and the bag, which was hasher-proofed with a zip tie, was cut open with someone’s car key (turns out, a pair of scissors was in the bag the whole time, but what fun would that have been?). And so, the hashers being warm, tired, thirsty and greedy, pretty-much drained the bottle of hurricanes before the DFL’s strolled-in because the early-bird gets the hurricane, or something like that.
Once sufficiently liquored-up, or not so much, we Head-ed back into the shiggy and popped-out to a road where we got hung-up on a check for a while scattering the pack in 3 different directions. Then Bunion cams slowly strolling along, so we Head-ed in the direction of the hare and continued up the road until we hit the familiar territory of 273. Spotting the cars a while back, Skids and Circle decided to hash smarter and waited for a while till the rest of the wanks followed the blue-chalk marks around the shopping center and back to point A. And so, we pounded a few more cans of liquid happiness until the rest of the wanks made it back and we could all caravan to the home of the hares for circle.
And once everyone had arrived at the hares’ abode, including Port-A-Ho who had taken a detour to throw axes, we gathered around the ring of fire where proxy RA, MFP opened circle. The hares drank many times for their trail not containing any swimming challenges this year and not being thorny enough. Skidmarks drank for FRB, whilst Cause, Wetter and Bumpy had a 3-way for DFL. Many wanks drank for hash-crash and blood on trail, of whom Skidmarks emerged the bloodiest. Many interuptuses drank for trying to forget about us. Rubber Ripper and Pounded in the Can drank for running 10 miles earlier that day, having the nerve to brag about it and also wearing race attire. Our virgin, Just Caitlin managed to make it through seemingly unscathed and was instructed on how to do a proper down-down. Our visitors were recognized, the auto-hashers were shamed and Cause still can’t make no accusation. And someone impersonated Woody declaring that the hash go in peace.
Following circle, we feasted upon many Mardi Gras delicacies including muffuletta, gumbo, pumpkin mushroom soup and Wet Lay’s famous king cake, which thankfully did not result in anyone choking on any babies. And all in all it was another shitty Mardi Gras trail.
Stay tuned for Hockessin Hash #1338 this Saturday.