I am too lazy to update the web side but back end is up to date.
| Hash Details | |
|---|---|
| Hash Number: | 282 |
| What: | Hockessin Hash #282 and AGM |
| When: | April 29, 2000 |
| Where: | Canby Park, Wilmington, DE |
| Hares: | Hornblower Make Me an Offer | Message |
| Nothing here yet | Hashers |
| Anal-ist Beeper Bumper Humper Cereal Killer Circle Jerk Cribsnatcher Cupcakes Deadhead Devil Woman Digital Dick Do Me On the Beach Gomez Groper Himalaya Hornblower Hot Lips Hot Pants Hot Pink Ho Lick It Clean Make Me an Offer Pulls His Toy Roadkill Rubber Son of a Ditch Stumpy the Sex Dwarf Toxic Shock Twat Ever Wingnuts | Hash Trash |
| Hockessin HHH - Hash Trash For Saturday April 29, 2000 Hockessin HHH Hash trash Run#282 The well hung agm hash Five years! Can you believe it? This fucked-up kennel has withstood the vicissitudes of time and debauchery for five fucking years, and now our jolly band of universal flotsam and jetsam have collected for our AGM meeting of the new millennium, schmillenium....who gives a shit anyway? In the usual context of gross mismanagement, ineptitude, inebriation, and used condoms, about 25 hounds collected at Canby Park, Thrillmington, in the clutches of our sadistic hares, Hornyblower and Make Me an Offer. A pair of hares possessing the kind of orienteering skills that suggest that they couldn't find their own asses with two hands and a flashlight. We started out with a tour de Canby; replete with checkbacks, falsies, and padded jock straps. We even got our feet wet (in surprisingly warm creek water) before emerging from the wooded parkland onto a bit of Maryland Ave. ass-fault. Then it was into the shiggy world that housing developers haven't been able to grab yet. Not too many thorns (Yay !!), but a few wimpy water crossings as we loped along them thar hills when, amid a highly orchestrated background of farts and belches, we got to the beer stop. The noisy display of gas production by most hashers seemed to debunk the myth that says that single females are incapable of passing gas because they don't get an asshole until they get married... Yeah! Right! Anyway, when we got our asses in gear (more or less) after the beer stop, we had a big split-up in trail choice causing us to straggle into the parking lot over a half hour span---running as we did for over an hour and covering a distance of 5 to 7 miles, depending on which path we selected. We finally took off for home or one of the homes of several hashers who volunteered showers and towels so we wouldn't have to stink up the AGM meeting. Eventually, between 5 and 6 PM, we met at Galuccio's restaurant near the Art Museum. It was sort of cozy there in the private room they provided us. It was a decent pasta buffet with sheep testicles, spicy hunks of goat dicks, stuffed armadillo mammaries, along with boring bread and a salad garnished with pigeon droppings and pubic hairs---and to wash down all of that exotica, we had the old sex routine of getting screwed by a high priced cash bar. The masochists who attended this noteworthy social event for the highest aristocratic stratum of Delaware bluebloods were: Gomez Himalaya, Groper, Roadkill, Hot Lips, Digital Dick, Do Me on the Beach, Stumpy the Sex Dwarf, Circle Jerk, Toxic Shock, Hot Pink Ho, Devil Woman, Cribsnatcher, Beeper, Cereal Killer, Al Bucci, Anal-ist, Bumper Humper, Hotpants, Pulls His Toy, Son of a Ditch, Twat Ever, Wingnuts, Cupcakes, Lick it Clean, Rubber (and Erin, his birthday girl who supplied us with ice cream birthday cake for dessert), and Deadhead. After stuffing our faces, we had our religious ceremony with appropriate hymns and Down-Downs to salute the outgoing orificers. Then, with our usual lack of Hash Respect, we elected the following orificers for the first year of the new schmellenium: Orificers for the Hash Grandmistress (Ohhh, that sounds good!): Groper Her job is to hatch loony plans for disgraceful Hash events, take the blame for all mismanagement fuck-ups, and bail us out when we get arrested. Jointmaster: Beeper His job is to moon the Hash in the absence of the GM Religious Advisor: Himalaya His job is to make sure that all Hashers will end up in Hell. Piece of cake. More fun there and it's warm. On-Sex/Webmistress: Devil Woman Her job is to maintain our crude and lascivious web site and infect the rest of the world with Hash virus. Hash Scribe: Buffy, Rubber, Lick it Clean, Himalaya These fools are supposed to waste everybody's time by writing idiotic horseshit Hare Raiser: Roadkill His thankless job is to be a pain in the ass until he gets you to sign up to hare a fucking Hash. Hash Cash: Gomez His job is to give you the finger and take your money until he has enough for a trip to Costa Rica. Brewmaster: Hornblower He will obviously drink all our beer (except for Maartens Piss) Hash Horn: Pulls His Toy And blows his horn at the same time! Wow!! Haberdasher: Bumper Humper His job is to keep us in high Hasher fashion. So fuck you, Tommy Hilfugger. | |
| Note: | |
| from web archive | |
| Files: | |
| WebsiteArchiveTrashes200-300.txt | |