I am too lazy to update the web side but back end is up to date.
| Hash Details | |
|---|---|
| Hash Number: | 1106 |
| What: | Hockessin Hash #1106 - Butt Lite's "ZERO BIRTHDAY" Hash |
| When: | Oct. 24, 2015 |
| Where: | New Castle County's River Road Park, Wilmington, DE |
| Hares: | Butt Lite Digital Dick | Message |
| What: Hockessin Hash House Harriers #1106, Butt Lite's "ZERO BIRTHDAY" Hash When: Saturday, October 24, 2015 at 3pm HST Where: New Castle County's River Road Park, Wilmington, DE Who Hare: Butt Lite and Digital Dick Dog/Kid Friendly: Dogs, not sure so please bring a leash. Apres not dog friendly. D'erections: From I-495, take the Edgemoor Road exit. Go north on Governor Printz Blvd, Route 13 North. At approximately 8/10 of a mile from the intersection of Edgemoor Road and Governor Printz Blvd, turn left into River Road Park (Business Signs at turn are Colony Pool Service, Inc. and Rosser Rentals). At NCC River Road Park sign, take right fork and park in parking lot between the two baseball fields. | Hashers |
| Asshopper Bumpy Beaver Bunion Butt Butt Lite Cousin It Dead End Digital Dick Famous Jack Hanna Job I am 17 Cumming on 18 Kum On Inn Lost Boy Lost Penis Magic Carpet Ride Mount Me NecroPheelMeUp PubeHeAteHer Skidmarks Spunk Monkey The Wetter the Better Trail Order Bride Wet Lay Woody Woodpecker | Hash Trash |
| Hash Trash for Hockessin Hash #1106 So, the slobbering pack met at the seemingly little-known River Road Park off Route 13 in Wilmington, DE on a lovely autumnal, 60-ish degree afternoon of October 24, 2015 AD. Hashers I remember being present included: Wet Lay, Bunion Butt, Pubeheateher, Necropheelmeup, Asshopper, Wetter the Better, Cousin It with Famous Jack, Trail Order Bride, Kum On Inn, Just Justin, Just Rich, Mount Me, Blow My Sweet Toots, Dead End, Lost Penis, Skidmarks, Lost Boy, Butt Lite, Digital Dick, Woody, Hanna Job, Just Mason, Spunk Monkey, Bumpy Beaver, Magic Carpet Ride and . . .? Our hares for the day were none other than Digital Dick and birthday-girl, Butt Lite who didn’t look a day over 59, but maybe because her birthday wasn’t for a few more days. While a small group of us were celebrating the arrival of Asshopper, well ... more-so the arrival of the beer, another group of slobs who apparently cannot read directions was gathered in a different area of the park wondering where the hell everyone was ... more-so, where the hell was the beer. Eventually, they figured out that they must move their cars in order to be part of the cool-kids’ club. Cousin It, however couldn’t seem to figure out where the road to the parking lot was, so said “fuck it” and took his Subaru all-terrain, for no grassy field should stand in the way of the beer being delivered. Out of seemingly nowhere, Hanna Job showed up after about 5 years’ absence after having seen a group of seedy characters milling about and realizing, “Hey! These must be hashers!” So after running home to put on a proper shirt, he convinced his impressionable 13-year-old son, Just Mason to join him as the token virgin. Parenting at its finest. So, Butt Lite stepped forward and described in cryptic detail how she had to bribe the cops in the park to leave us the hell alone, because obviously while laying trail, she appeared to be a threat to national security. We thank her for putting herself out there for the sake of the hash. She went on to explain that we should all take out our glasses, binoculars, magnifying glasses, etc. as she felt like she had to lay the marks “discreetly” to avoid being taken downtown for questioning. All we cared about at this point were the words “beer near,” so once the instructions ceased, we were off like a herd of house cats ... meow ... ehem, On-On! And so our assault on the Edgemoor neighborhoods began as we followed marks out of the park and into some areas that perhaps had never seen the likes of a hash. The hares did a fine job of throwing off the FRB’s with many checks, while actually marking the Falses. Pretty sure at least one sorry soul was led astray at each of the designated intersections while the check-hangers hung back to catch their breath and let the over-achievers figure out where the hell to turn…or not turn. Our virgin, Just Mason was keeping up well, finally getting his question of so many years answered, “Hey Dad, what happens at the hash?” “Well, son ...” On-On! Soon, we came upon a curious check that could go one of three ways ... or two, according to Woody who blew through a false because hey, it seemed logical. True trail went down a rather steep hill prompting the breaks to be put on to avoid blowing by the “beer near” that had indeed been discreetly placed in someone’s lawn. Turn’s out, “someone” was a friend to the hare, and had kindly provided us with not only a beer stop, but cider, ginger cookies and brownies too. And so, the friend of the hare became the friend of the hash and we imbibed and noshed and imbibed some more until Woody eventually came up from the wrong direction. As they say, “All roads lead to ... beer?” On-On! Following our foray into this lovely home, we were informed that we were about 75% through trail, so down through the neighborhood we went, and whadayaknow — River Road Park was just ahead. Those hashing smarter went straight for the cars, while those hashing dumber or seeking more punishment went looking for more marks. Indeed, Mount Me and Hanna Job discovered some marks…which ended up leading us in a square around a field. Well played, hares. Apparently there was on On In somewhere, though several of us not-so-sharp-knives-in-the-drawer took another lap around the parking lot ... for fun. So, it was learned that while Spunk Monkey was nearing the end, Pubeheateher and Just Mason were on his heels, so Pube says to the impressionable Just Mason, “Hey, go catch that guy in the skirt!” And indeed, he did. Somehow they let this man work with children. And so, our RA Skidmarks called for circle to begin in the parking lot as Magic Carpet Ride was setting up the Thanksgiving kids’ table she keeps in her car for emergency tailgating ... and down-downs. Accusations were slung hither and yon and songs-a-plenty were sung. The hares drank for not having enough pavement or cops on their shitty trail. Hanna Job got his own special interruptus song for being away the longest, while several other wayfaring hashers were serenaded as well. Thankfully, there was no hash crash or blood on trail, for that may have meant a trip to the ER. Our virgin, Just Mason was given a proper water down-down and was summarily welcomed into the hash family, like it or not. Pube drank for child abuse for leading the poor virgin into racist behavior. Woody drank for making up his own trail for a while and Kum On Inn drank for race wear that did not involve an orange shirt. Finally, the birthday girl hare, Butt Lite was given a proper side-side whilst the whale song was sung, further honoring her with a golden shower of beer. At last the hash got a piece. Following circle, the pack gathered at a local watering hole, Murph’s Irish Pub for many, many, many pizzas, a honking-ginormous birthday cake and of course, more beer, more beer, more beer. Thank you to our generous hosts, and happy 60th again to Butt Lite! All in all, it was another shitty trail. Stay tuned for Hockessin Hash #1107 this Saturday. On! On! Necropheelmeup | |