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Sometimes a hash is more than a hash and DIMA and TITS 4 TOT’S hash was just that. You see we actually started the night before. In case you were unaware, SHUT YOUR PIE HOLE and MYTHDYCK are performing thespians. They are currently staring in the Roadhouse Theater’s production of the Exorcist. PIE HOLE stars as Fr. Damien and MYTHDYCK plays the possessed girls’ tutor. Looking for a reason to get trashed we started the evening at DIMA and TIT’s place for margarita’s. Joining our hares were the GM and GM’estress, Chocolate Starfish and Miss Libertitties, Fuck Face, Sir, HO, Fuck Face’s boss; Carle and myself. After a few beverages and some snacks we motored off to the Roadhouse. In case you haven’t been there before, the Roadhouse is a converted church that Sir and HO used to frequent.(Go Figure!) Now they do stage productions and allow you to bring alcohol inside during those productions. You gotta ask, just what were they thinking when they made that rule!
And so we sat and drank and cheered on our hasher/thespians.We found out that your not supposed to cheer during dramatic performances. We were also disciplined for being too loud and obnoxious, and threatened with ejection if we didn’t shut the hell up. After the final bows we met Piehole and Mythdyck back stage and made plans for part two of the evening. It is here that things get fuzzy. Seems we stole the director’s name plate from his office door, there was semi nekked dancing on 11th street and some fool was car roof top surfing across West 8th street. We ended up at Greengarden Café for a beverage or two. At this point the pack separated. Miss Tit’s, Piehole, Fuck Face, Carle, and I remained at the Garden while Sir, Ho, DIMA, Tit’s 4 Tots and Chocolate went east to Kelly’s Hotel. Seems another of our hashing brethren had recently bought the state line watering hole and Friday was his grand opening. Needless to say it was a late night by the time all the kiddies got home to bed.
Because of all the merriment of our Friday night pre-lewd, one of our hares had a tough time getting her ass out of bed Saturday morning. That left DIMA to pretty much lay trail solo. Fast forward to 2:30, drinking time. As I entered Night Flights bar, I found Ménage Blow working on the bar maids while our hare wore a nervous frown. Seems he still hadn’t heard from his bride and co-hare, Tits 4 Tots. She wasn’t answering her cell or house phone. Meanwhile the walking wounded arrived. In limped Chocolate and Miss Tits, just a little worse for the wear. In spite of the late night, Miss Tits still flashed that wonderful smile and passed around hugs for all. Chocolate sat on a stool. A travelling hasher from Happy Valley H3, Anticock, joined us. He was in the area for a family reunion and blew them off to hash with us. He had met and hashed with Eerie wankers previously and remembered T.V., Blow as well as Dick Traci and most affectionately Chemical Whorefare. As we sat around sipping our beers, Anticock related a story about actually sharing a shower with our Chemmi at a Poly Party several years back. This revelation brought about a monetary pause in conversation as we all though about that for a second….
Meanwhile Dima paced the floor waiting for his cutier half to get her cutier ass to the bar. Suddenly the door opened and in waltzed Soggy Box. Needless to say all appreciated her full chested hugs. After a couple of group photos, our hare sent us out for chalk talk.
And off the pack went. Blow and I took the early lead and we quickly found the trail going off road. The marks led us down a brush-strewn ravine into a small creek. We could easily see the marks continuing up the other hillside. Our hare had intended we wallow through the mucky waters but had neglected to notice the small tree laying across said mucky waters. Even hung over we were just smart enough to take advantage of this bypass. The trail led us across several fields south to the CSX train tracks. After a short hop, skip and jump down the track we found our hare tucked up under some trees with coolers full of cold beverages. Presently the rest of the pack joined us and we enjoyed the wonderful summer day. It was here that Dima confided a kinda funny story. Seems that very morning while laying trail; members of the Millcreek SWAT team, the FAA, the NSA, Homeland Security Anti Terrorism Dept and several other “alphabet” agencies confronted him. The very spot we were standing upon was part of Tom Ridge International Airport and someone had mistaken our hare for a terrorist agent. Poor Dima had to subject himself to a complete strip search (including cavity search) while they looked for hidden WMD’s and shoulder-fired ground to air missiles. He explained that were just hashers laying a trail. Unfortunately the alphabet boys heard “hashers” and instantly connected that to “hashish” and Turkey, a semi terrorist hot spot. It took quite a bit of convincing before the men of law relented and released out hare to continue his trail. Even so, we couldn’t help to feel we were being watched and I glanced around looking for the “little red dot” from a sniper rifles laser aiming point. Just at that moment a turbo prop commuter plane roared overhead as it approached the landing field. Oh how easy it would have been to knock it down with a water balloon sling shot….
Those thoughts were interrupted by a CSX train rumbling its way to Cleveland. And as if on cue, the missing hare Tits 4 Tot’s drove up in her little blue convertible. And there it was: Planes, Trains and Automobiles! T4T bounced out and profusely apologized to all including her hubby for her tardiness. Seems she was swilling beers down at the “ERIE YACHT CLUB” with all the rich folks. “Hmm there will be down downs for this” Blow said to himself.
And so we sat and drank and cheered on our hasher/thespians.We found out that your not supposed to cheer during dramatic performances. We were also disciplined for being too loud and obnoxious, and threatened with ejection if we didn’t shut the hell up. After the final bows we met Piehole and Mythdyck back stage and made plans for part two of the evening. It is here that things get fuzzy. Seems we stole the director’s name plate from his office door, there was semi nekked dancing on 11th street and some fool was car roof top surfing across West 8th street. We ended up at Greengarden Café for a beverage or two. At this point the pack separated. Miss Tit’s, Piehole, Fuck Face, Carle, and I remained at the Garden while Sir, Ho, DIMA, Tit’s 4 Tots and Chocolate went east to Kelly’s Hotel. Seems another of our hashing brethren had recently bought the state line watering hole and Friday was his grand opening. Needless to say it was a late night by the time all the kiddies got home to bed.
Because of all the merriment of our Friday night pre-lewd, one of our hares had a tough time getting her ass out of bed Saturday morning. That left DIMA to pretty much lay trail solo. Fast forward to 2:30, drinking time. As I entered Night Flights bar, I found Ménage Blow working on the bar maids while our hare wore a nervous frown. Seems he still hadn’t heard from his bride and co-hare, Tits 4 Tots. She wasn’t answering her cell or house phone. Meanwhile the walking wounded arrived. In limped Chocolate and Miss Tits, just a little worse for the wear. In spite of the late night, Miss Tits still flashed that wonderful smile and passed around hugs for all. Chocolate sat on a stool. A travelling hasher from Happy Valley H3, Anticock, joined us. He was in the area for a family reunion and blew them off to hash with us. He had met and hashed with Eerie wankers previously and remembered T.V., Blow as well as Dick Traci and most affectionately Chemical Whorefare. As we sat around sipping our beers, Anticock related a story about actually sharing a shower with our Chemmi at a Poly Party several years back. This revelation brought about a monetary pause in conversation as we all though about that for a second….
Meanwhile Dima paced the floor waiting for his cutier half to get her cutier ass to the bar. Suddenly the door opened and in waltzed Soggy Box. Needless to say all appreciated her full chested hugs. After a couple of group photos, our hare sent us out for chalk talk.
And off the pack went. Blow and I took the early lead and we quickly found the trail going off road. The marks led us down a brush-strewn ravine into a small creek. We could easily see the marks continuing up the other hillside. Our hare had intended we wallow through the mucky waters but had neglected to notice the small tree laying across said mucky waters. Even hung over we were just smart enough to take advantage of this bypass. The trail led us across several fields south to the CSX train tracks. After a short hop, skip and jump down the track we found our hare tucked up under some trees with coolers full of cold beverages. Presently the rest of the pack joined us and we enjoyed the wonderful summer day. It was here that Dima confided a kinda funny story. Seems that very morning while laying trail; members of the Millcreek SWAT team, the FAA, the NSA, Homeland Security Anti Terrorism Dept and several other “alphabet” agencies confronted him. The very spot we were standing upon was part of Tom Ridge International Airport and someone had mistaken our hare for a terrorist agent. Poor Dima had to subject himself to a complete strip search (including cavity search) while they looked for hidden WMD’s and shoulder-fired ground to air missiles. He explained that were just hashers laying a trail. Unfortunately the alphabet boys heard “hashers” and instantly connected that to “hashish” and Turkey, a semi terrorist hot spot. It took quite a bit of convincing before the men of law relented and released out hare to continue his trail. Even so, we couldn’t help to feel we were being watched and I glanced around looking for the “little red dot” from a sniper rifles laser aiming point. Just at that moment a turbo prop commuter plane roared overhead as it approached the landing field. Oh how easy it would have been to knock it down with a water balloon sling shot….
Those thoughts were interrupted by a CSX train rumbling its way to Cleveland. And as if on cue, the missing hare Tits 4 Tot’s drove up in her little blue convertible. And there it was: Planes, Trains and Automobiles! T4T bounced out and profusely apologized to all including her hubby for her tardiness. Seems she was swilling beers down at the “ERIE YACHT CLUB” with all the rich folks. “Hmm there will be down downs for this” Blow said to himself.
July 30, 2005 - Planes, Trains and Automobile Hash
And we were off again. Only this time no one broke out into a r*n. Seems in an effort not to draw the attention of the snipers at Tom Ridge Field, we slowly strolled down the lane-heading north. Soon trail took us into the upscale neighborhood of Wolf Run. Strolling down the quite streets six abreast (DID SOMEONE SAY BREAST?) Anticock observed that we looked like something out of a cheap spaghetti western. Indeed the locals were giving us long stares, realizing that we were out of place. Our intrepid hare had laid several false to this point, but I was onto him. Having dated a girl living near by, I knew full well just where he was taking us. And sure enough we soon arrived at the home of a vixen named Robin. While we had spent no small amount of time in the past trying to get Robin to hash with us, things never quite worked out. However she had spent an evening dancing with Chocolate Starfish last April and was intrigued. Knowing this, Dima had conned her into hosting a beer stop for us. We spent 15 minutes lounging in her driveway, enjoying the day. But the pack was restless to resume trail. While I would have preferred to remain behind, I found myself walking along with Anticock. I attempted to enlighten him to the Eerie hash. The pack surged ahead of us. As we rounded a bend I could see Blow shortcutting a parallel street and a lone figure swinging high on a school swing set. It was Soggy being Soggy. “Never pass up an opportunity for a free swing,” she playful giggled. With that she jumped off and blew past us on trail. We were now less than a half a mile from the On – In. Soggy, Blow, Choco and Miss Tits were in a tight pack making for the beer. Anticock and I, being a bit wiser, cut a tangent that put us slightly ahead of the pack. Miss Tits was to have none of this and crossed the road ahead of us. She was kicking it in to earn her FRB down down. The balance of the pack fell in behind us, while Anticock and I watched Miss Tit’s behind. Feeling the urge to put some pressure upon our FRB, I closed the gap. Sensing my presence (or maybe my B.O.) Miss Tits turned, gave that sly little smile of hers, busted a shimmy shimmy coco bop move and left Anticock and I standing in the dust. Completely deflated by this turn of events the pack caught up with us and we limped in to find our GM’estress already sipping a beer with the hares. All agreed we had never seen our Miss Tits run so fleet of feet.
Sir and Ho, and our beer stop hostess Robin joined us at down downs. There were down downs for birthdays, traveling farthest, blowing off a family reunion to hash with Eerie, out of towners, DFL, all done by Anticock. The rest of the hash also shared a down down or two. Our hares swilled beer for a shit trail and our MIA hare, Tits 4 Tot’s drank for not supporting her man. She implied that she would be much more supportive later that evening ;-) Food was severed and we mingled and ate.
All in all a very good day. As for me, cause NO One else will write these damn things, that’s the way it was.
On On
Swings both Ways