Carla Phillips Damian Canterini Ramjet Afterbirth Debbie Shacter Hot N Sloppy Down Under Viper Vixen Rare Meat Skippy Dick Ding Dong Bitch With An Attitude Sleazy Rider Backseat Box Minnie Brew Lame Bahrain Micheal Polydoroff Spewing Reptile Rude Dog Blow Dry Wilma Wisecracker Ugly Mug Headbanger Phred Shiggy Pitts Love Byte Ride Me Muff Snuffer Asshole Foreign Lesion Bubbette Rats Ass Condom Mints Niplets Dribbles Crusty The Clown Don Damour Virgin Master Only On Top Dawgy Style Mushroom Whiner MC Hasher 4" Hole Break Wind Not a Homo Pam Gray Marque de Shiggy Patchwork Quilt Celery Geezer Pleaser Wooden Eye Red Eye Slippery When Wet Dumb Dick Nancy Fina Flip Flop Open Wide Ron Holy Dick Good Head Sherpa Patrick Mclaughlin Mark Snyder Fergie Dick On The Rag Boner De-boner Super Duper Pooper Scooper Corkscrew Used Rubber Swilley Kaptain Krash Sanitary Not! Bunny Banger 0 & 6 Brown Hole Tastes Great Wet Dreams Katherine Thomson Jeff Hollington Christine Hollington Wild Sex Keyboard Queen Sleaze Puppy Booger Mr. Twister Ouch Tripod Hired Snatch Coffee Bean
Overbearing Landed Gentry: Cheetah & Tailgunner
Having been served steaming bowls of (hash)shit the previous two weeks, I was understandably skeptical about the chances of enjoying a proper sit-down meal, as it were, on this, our glorious 10 years of hashing event. I was, however, comforted by the fact that two progeny of our all-wise, slightly-askew Grand Master (in absentia), Skypilot, were entrusted with haring duties. After mulling about and enjoying the company of various regulars, old-time hashers, and the Atlanta crew (who were kind enough to join us, and to leave their "beer" behind), the pack found flour on Henrico Road.
|Aside: The weather was theoretically perfect for hashing. Sorry to waste space with this, but I have this thing with weather, specifically, with the Weather Channel, and the girl whos on around 10pm. Forget I mentioned it.|
We crested the seemingly endless hill, and realized that we had experienced a monumental circle-jerk. Down the Hill, we crossed a creek and went under a RR trestle. I dont think we were on trail at this point, but we trudged on down a rough dirt road, and picked up trail soon enough. Hitting a check that fooled no one, the pack veered right into the woods and up a hill, a stretch of running that, in terms of sheer mental and physical strenuosity, was roughly equivalent to watching a Loverboy video with a straight face. Minnie Brew, Boner, and I played hash tag up the hill for a while, then finally found ourselves in some narrow weed-lined paths that led to a check at a T-intersection.
|Aside #2: About this time, listening behind me, I seriously wondered if a larval alien was escaping from Fergie. Fergie, a word of caution --- if you continue to wear that pack, we wont be be able to tell when it really IS a larval alien, and you might be denied the prompt medical attention which, Im sure youll agree, such a trauma would necessarily warrant.|
The On-In: The water was cold, and so was the beer. Atlanta H3 bought us a cake, and we all blushed and shyly glanced down. This was widely regarded as a near-perfect hash, but of course, comparatively speaking, after the previous two weeks worth of hash-abortion, I would consider lying on my back, twitching, in Death Valley while Lilliputians yanked at my nose-hairs a near-perfect hash. Love, Niplets.
Virgins: Carla Phillips, Debbie Shacter, Nancy Fina, Ron, Patrick
McLaughlin, Mark Snyder
Out of towners: Shiggy Pitts, Spewing Reptile, Only On Top, Patchwork Quilt
Original Pinelakers: Down Under, Ugly Mug, Cheetah, Mushroom, Marque de Shiggy, Wild Sex, Bunny Banger, Flip Flop, Corkscrew
Too Long: Super Duper Pooper Scooper, Rude Dog, Rare Meat
B-Day: Red & Wooden Eyes, respectively