Hockessin Hash House Harriers History

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Hash Details
Hash Number:1116
What:Hockessin Hash #1116 - The Double Hangover Hash
When:Jan. 2, 2016
Where:Yorklyn, DE
What:  Hockessin Hash #1116, The Double Hangover Hash
When:  Saturday, January 2, 2016 at 3pm HST 
Where:  Yorklyn, DE (would have been Hockessin, but you know ran there last week)
Who Hare:  Rumor has it that Crib is haring; and he is ready for a ball buster.
Friendlies:  Dog friendly. But not the apres'.
D'erections:   From I-95, take the Rt. 141 North exit, exit at Rt. 2 Kirkwood Hwy West (towards Newark).  Turn right on Rt. 41 towards Hockessin.  Follow Rt. 41 to Yorklyn Road (light in front of the Wawa). Head northeast on Yorklyn Rd for about 2 miles. When you see the nearly demolished NVF plant, cross the little bridge and park by the side of the road. Watch for bikers (bicycle type ); they hate runners.  Lost?
Bumpy Beaver
Bunion Butt
Circle Jerk
Closing Time
Devil Woman
Dirty Wet Pussy
Do Me On the Beach
I am 17 Cumming on 18
Kum On Inn
Lick Stick
Mount Me
Nocturnal Emissions
Over the Rainbow
Pickle Dick
Rubber Ripper
Stun Gun
Tinsel Tits
Trail Order Bride
Wet Lay
Woody Woodpecker
Hash Trash
Trash for Hockessin Hash #1116
So, the slobbering pack met at the intersection of Creek and Yorklyn Roads in some makeshift parking lot, across from a big barn, near a bridge in Yorklyn, DE (i.e., the d’erections from the hare were to essentially drive around in Yorklyn until you see some hashers) on a chilly, crisp, 30-40ish degree (I don’t know, it was cold!) afternoon of January 2, 2016 AD (aka, the second day of hangovers hash).
Hashers I remember being present included: Wet Lay, Bunion Butt, Pubeheateher, Necropheelmeup, Rubber Ripper, Groper, Spermit, Devil Woman, Circle Jerk, Do Me On The Beach, Cribsnatcher, Licks Dick, Nocturnal Mission, Bumpy Beaver, Mount Me, Butthead, Over the Rainbow, Stun Gun, Just Justin, Woody, Blow My Sweet Toots, Fuck 5, Just Beth, Pickle Dick, Tinsel Tits, Kum On Inn, Trail Order Bride, Asshopper and . . .?
Our lone hare for the day was none other than our founding father, Cribsnatcher, who thought his d’erections to said location were almost too detailed, which raised much excitement as to the prospect of what awaited us on trail.  After wandering around the mudholes that were the “parking lot” nursing our New Year’s hangovers with several more beers, Crib threw some marks down to at least give the appearance of commencing a chalk-talk, which no one paid attention to anyway since it was assumed all “marks” were up for negotiation.  We were assured of a beer near, which is all anyone needed to hear and we were off to wander the great metropolis of Yorklyn in search of some marks … any marks, and hopefully some beer.      On-On!
Contrary to most assumptions, marks were indeed found … going down the middle of the road.  Why the middle, you ask?  Though Crib really needs no explanation, it does bare repeating that our resourceful hare “auto-hared” this section by flinging flour out of his car window to save time.  Points for creativity, but still considered a violation by most.  Nevertheless, we marched onward until we saw PubeHeAteHer and Rubber Ripper stop dead in their tracks, do a 180-turn and sprint back toward everyone, which could only mean that the “Check-back 16” was not a joke.  The slower, brighter of the bunch simply shrugged and continued on the correct course, happily avoiding any non-essential movements as the not-so-bright FRB’s eventually re-grouped after much snarling, grunting and other such unidentifiable noises.
Up a hill the pack charged, plodded, slogged onward negotiating some checks and trails along the way until we reached a huge-ass field that no one seemed to know what to do with.  Some went left, others went right and still others hoped for the best by heading down the middle, but apparently no marks were to be found.  Actually, there were marks, however an apparent “sun glare” was blamed on the fact that the FRB’s completely missed a check with everyone else wandering around the field like a herd of rabid farm animals for what seemed like a small eternity.  Finally, Over The Rainbow was spotted following actual trail and there was much rejoicing after more snarling, grunting and unidentifiable noises.    
Trail wound down a paved path until at long last a Beer Near was spotted.  The confusion was not over yet, however as no beer was located in the immediate vicinity and more marks were spotted leading down the trail.  The FRB’s eagerly charged down the trail to the parking lot, however Crib’s easily-identifiable red car was nowhere to be found.  What could this mean?  Had Crib actually hidden the beer in the brush?  Turns out, he was still not back from taking his pooch, Michelangelo home but this did not stop the raging lunatics on a quest for beer as they began searching every bush (oh my!) and pile of brush within a quarter-mile radius (well, maybe not that far).  Finally, a familiar car showed-up and Crib emerged with a “What?” look on his face.  At least he had beer.  After several minutes of chilly imbibing, we were instructed to simply head back to the cars … which were basically a stone’s throw (if you had a really strong arm) from where we were standing.  
On In!   
After the pack managed to drag their asses the 1000 feet back to the mud-hole lot, our gracious GM (who had earlier served as Hash Cash) Dirty Wet Pussy stepped forward to serve as RA, for there were none to be found and sure-as-hell, no one was volunteering.  Circle commenced with accusations and songs aplenty.  Pretty sure Kum On Inn and Wet Lay drank for FRB and DFL, but since I had been drinking for several days and my brain was frozen, I cannot guarantee any accuracy here.  Our visitor, Spermit from Pittsburgh sang us a song about the far-away land from whence he came.  Some interuptuses drank for crashing the party and Circle drank for managing to have blood on trail (probably wasn’t actually on trail, but no matter).  Some person in an orange shirt drank for racist wear as well as others for simply having an athletic wear label *cough*cough*--bullshit!  Rubber Ripper drank for having shiny shoes and I’m pretty sure someone drank for having headgear in circle at some point.  And finally, the hare drank for partially auto-hashing a shitty-ass trail and managed to most-impressively chug his 24-oz water bottle.  At last, the hash got a piece.
Following circle, the pack descended upon Famous Tom’s for some meatball sandwiches, veggie soup, blackberry salad, Groper’s crabs (dip) and many, many more beers.  All in all, it was another shitty trail.  Stay tuned for Hockessin Hash #1117 this Saturday.
On! On!