I am too lazy to update the web side but back end is up to date.
| Hash Details | |
|---|---|
| Hash Number: | 295 |
| What: | Hockessin Hash #295 |
| When: | July 19, 2000 |
| Where: | None |
| Hares: | Buffy Make Me an Offer | Message |
| Nothing here yet | Hashers |
| Hash Trash | |
| Hockessin HHH - Hash Trash For Wednesday July 19, 2000 The We Got Peed On Hash Cool and rainy! What more could you ask for? It's gotta be great Hash weather otherwise why would we have about 40 hounds of the H4 meeting at the Concord High School in a noble search for mud and slime? Our unlikely duo of hares was Buffy (the smiling brute with the drill sergeant mentality), and Make Me an Offer, who stunned us all with her claim of being a vestal virgin. Shortly before 7 PM, we were on-oning (or, awn-awning as Beeper would say) over the ass-fault jungle around Concord Pike, north of Thrillmington in the "Small Wonder" state of Underware. (If you've read the Hash Trash up to this point, you've read 110 words, you fat-ass wanker. Don't you have anything better to do?). So, we careened up and down Mr. Roger's neighborhood, puffing and chuffing under the deplorable conditions of not being able to offend the locals or do any serious trespassing (which is what we do best). At least we were treated to about 10 metres of shiggy just before the beer stop. A few loud belches (in lieu of a Hash Horn which we still need!!) had us charging off into a little more shiggy and eventually to a genuine water crossing that allowed us the joy of having soggy sneakers. The homeward leg took us through the Concord Mall for the amusement of slack-jawed patrons. Our Mall jaunt was uneventful except for our being mooned by a pack of cub scouts who were shopping for back issues of Hustler magazine. Then we continued to tear-ass down the Pike for about an hour total trail time until a cross-country sprint took us back to the High school. We circled up in the rain and waited for the beer to arrive for our religious ceremony. We zapped the hares for arranging shitty weather, anointed a couple of cherries that Wing Nuts scared up, followed by various and sundry violators of non-rules that included Himalaya for celebrating a 45th wedding anniversary. Unbelievable! An old, horny Hasher putting up with one wife for all those years---and she's an alien, to boot. Anyway, having worked up a good appetite, we did a creditable job drinking the pitchers of beer and eating themeatball subs. It was an evening of a sensational revelation because Mr. and Mrs. MacArthur, being present at the Apres, learned that their daughter was a vestal virgin. | |
| Note: | |
| from web archive | |
| Files: | |
| WebsiteArchiveTrashes200-300.txt | |