I am too lazy to update the web side but back end is up to date.
|What:||Hockessin Hash #1138 - the Bimbo Hash|
|When:||June 1, 2016|
|Where:||801 Shipyard Dr, Wilmington, DE|
|What: Hockessin Hash #1138, the Bimbo Hash |
When: Wednesday, June 1, 2016 at 6:30 pm, HST
Where: Judy Johnson Field at Daniel S. Frawley Stadium, 801 Shipyard Dr, Wilmington, DE 19801
Who Hare: Three of your finest BIMBO's, Groper, Lost Penis, and Wishboneher -- "Trial promises to be both scenic and safe. It will be well thought out ... after all, it is a BIMBO hash. Actually the hares promise you nothing. The lower your expectations ... greater the chances you won't be disappointed ..."
D'erections: In case you don't know where the Blue Rocks play, this will help. Cum and look for hashers.
Dirty Wet Pussy
Do Me On the Beach
Hare Today Cum Tomorrow
Kum On Inn
Magic Carpet Ride
The International House of Virgins
The Wetter the Better
Tits of Steel
|Trash for Hockessin Hash #1138 – The Bimbo Hash|
So, the slobbering pack met at the Johnson Field at Frawley Stadium (actually, in a corner of a parking lot under I-95 in view of the Horizon Services billboard) in Wilmington, DE “A Place to be Somebody,” on a warm, summery 80-something degree evening of June 1, 2016 AD.
Hashers I remember encountering at some point or other included: Wishboneher, Hare Today Cum Tomorrow, NecroPheelMeUp, PubeHeAteHer, Pickle Dick, Butt Lite, Dirty Wet Pussy, Lost Penis, Skidmarks, Perfect Woman, Butthead, Kum On Inn, Lost Boy, Family Jules, Asshopper, Wetter the Better, Wet Lay, Bunion Butt, Dancing Fool, Cousin It, Groper, Toxic Shock, Fuck 5, Just Beth, Mount Me, Circle Jerk, Do Me On the Beach, International House of Virgins, Tits of Steel, Magic Carpet Ride, Woody, Jew Balls and ...?
Our hares (bimbos) for the day were the trio of Lost Penis, Groper, and Wishboneher, who had dressed in a sexy police officer outfit to “protect and serve” us because when hashing in Wilmington, it’s safety third. While we attempted to discreetly enjoy our beers out of the view of actual law enforcement (if security guards on bikes count), the hash shit was doled out to Family Jules to carry since she had not graced us with her presence for well over a year. Skids also reintroduced the sleeve of beer for one lucky hasher to carry and drink throughout the night, which unfortunately ended up being yours truly this time. The sleeve contained Narragansetts with the date of 1975 on the can, which by the taste of them is probably when they were actually made. Wishboneher wielded a rather threatening looking dildo-sized piece of chalk at us while the bimbos described the marks we should look for. In true bimbo fashion, we had some interesting ones: FF (Fucking False?), CBSN (Check Back Shot Near, though not necessarily together), NFW (No Fucking Way, aka you are on private property dumbass) and the familiar Beer Near. And so, with Wishboneher uttering the blessings of “May the cop-us-no-catch-us ...” etc., etc., etc., we were unleashed to the Wilmington riverfront like a pack of ... flightless birds.
We wandered around the parking lot for a while until some blue chalk lines were identified, which led us to a check, at which point Pube started chasing a rabbit and we all ended up in the “No Fucking Way” zone, aka Amtrak “get out of my train yard” property. Circle Jerk hit a false going the other way and we all stood around waiting for the clue train to go by until the bimbos revealed their special treat: a “Shot Near,” because it was a hot night and we had traveled a good 200 yards already. Pube and Kum On Inn delighted in this pause as they were trying to register for an actual race on their phones (a violation of epic proportion). So, under the shadow of I-95 we quenched our thirst on Lost Penis’ special lemonade until we started looking suspicious again to the bike patrol (who would follow us at a safe distance throughout the night) and decided to break up the party ... for now.
At last we inconspicuously fled the parking lot and headed toward the riverfront and wildlife preserve which makes Wilmington look a lot less shitty. Here we invaded a beautiful terraced garden area which looked like a fine enough spot for a “Beer Near,” and indeed it was, for Groper was waiting for us there with coolers of piss-in-a-can to compliment our lovely surroundings. Hare Today Cum Tomorrow could not resist helping himself to a Narragansett from the sleeve, while Lost Boy actually selected one voluntarily from the cooler that was spewing its contents out of a hole in the can, and actually doubled as a nice lawn sprinkler (or hasher shower, depending on where you were standing). Eventually, Wishboneher informed us that next we were to encounter a “Turkey/Eagle” split, which if we were wise, we would take the “Eagle” because it was “more scenic and you won’t get any more dirty that you would on the Turkey.” This seemed like reasonable advice coming from a bimbo, so we all heeded it like the sheep that we were.
Turns out that the “Turkey/Eagle” split was merely a circle-jerk around the same boardwalk outside the environmental center. While the dim half of the pack chased their asses around the loop, the sharper knives in the drawer simply leaned against the railings and watched as the bimbos smiled at how easy we all were. Eventually, we righted ourselves, climbed the stairs (which Lost Penis had strategically placed there as training for the CF Climb) and headed across the bridge and back into the preserve where Pube somehow identified the last “Shot Near” and retrieved a garbage bag with a container of purple liquid shoved into a stone bee hive-looking-thing. Said liquid looked good enough to drink, so we all enjoyed while still trying to reassure the bike patrol that we were really harmless and were simply trying to drink in every area of the riverfront that we could. At last, it was time to pound the pavement again, so back to the parking lot we moseyed, except for IHOV and Tits who took turns trying to tire Pube out with their “racist” behavior. There were some choose-your-own-adventure routes that people decided to take at the two remaining checks, but fortunately all roads led to the “On In” ... and the beer. Circle was eventually called to “order” by Skidmarks and the barrage of insults, accusations and debaucherous singing began. The bimbos drank for not having enough pavement or booze on trail. Wishboneher drank a few more times for not being able to part with her cop headgear and also managing to have blood on trail. Fuck 5, Kum On Inn and Wetter the Better drank for FRB, FBI and DFL respectively. Mismanagement was called into circle several times for no apparent reason. Pube and Kum On Inn drank for race registration on trail while IHOV and Tits drank for their racist actions. Lost Boy was accused of using nerd names again while Family Jules drank for being away too long. Speaking of nerd names, all “Karens” who were “cops” (Wishboneher for her outfit and Mount Me because she actually was) were made to drink together. Woody tried and tried to make the hash go in peace to no avail. Hare Today Cum Tomorrow was called out for drinking one of the beers in the sleeve, so we enjoyed a hushed social because the bike patrol was circling around again at the time. Everyone in bright yellow/green shirts was made to drink for their poor fashion sense, which included Lost Boy, Family Jules, Skid Marks, Asshopper and Wetter the Better. Those who had hashed more than three times over the past week were made to drink, which included most of the Cape Henlopen campers. In the midst of all this madness, we forgot to make our visitor, Jew Balls drink, so hopefully he will have one on us later. Finally, Woody was allowed to bid that the hash go in peace, so we all got a piece of peace and quiet.
Following circle, we all parked our asses in the parking lot and amazingly no one was arrested or made to cease and desist, though it may have been that the Wilmington cops had bigger fish to fry. The bimbos treated us to a lovely spread of pulled pork, black bean salad, Caesar salad, and some tomato/mozzarella salad while we traded our Narragansetts in for some of Fuck 5’s tasty home brew. All in all it was another shitty trail. Stay tuned for Hockessin Hash #1139 this Wednesday.