It's pub crawl time again, which, as everyone knows, is Flamboyatron's favorite kind of trail. And yes, I've taken to referring myself in the third person. It's fun. Okay, so, we started at the Century Lounge in Olde Towne Bellevue (there's an "e" at the end of each of those words for a reason: it's old.). There was where we waited for everyone to show up, which seemed to take forever. I thought I was late, but then again, we were on SHT (Standard Hash Time, y'all!), so an hour after the predetermined time? Pshaw. Anyway, after a couple beers, and nerd talk with one of the Virgins, we were enlightened as to who was voted into the Mis-Management offices. In case you weren't there, or are thinking it's different from who was nominated (it really wasn't), here are the results:

VW is our new GM;
Spring Loaded Pussy is now Hash Cash, a position previously held (ha ha, sexual innuendo) by VW;
Our new RA is Urine Sodomy. Wait, he's not new. Whatever, anyway;
The OH3 Hare Raiser is....Urine Sodomy. He's in two positions.... more innuendo.
Hold the Meat has now been officially named Hash Flash (giggity);
The Guy Typing the Update (aka Flamboyatron, if'n you're slow... no offense.) is now the Hash Scribe, which is why I'm typing the update. Prior to me, this position was orignally held by Your Mother. Oh, burn. Anyway, back to the recap... By the way, if I've forgotten or neglected to mention any new Mis-Management types, go ahead and let me know the error of my ways by adding a PS or summat to the update.

After we were all educated on who now does what on the inner workings of the Hash House, it was Chalk Talk time. There were symbols, there were sexual jokes, and the bartender at the Century Lounge was scared. We done did our jobs, but we needed to run the trail, we did. So, after a blessing of the Hares by the incoming and outgoing GMs, we ran the trail. Shocked? No? Good.

After our 10(?) minute wait, we were off and after the Hares like a fat kid chasing a cake; slowly. Unlike the fat kid, though, we didn't tire out midway through. Oh no, we kept going because we were promised beer. And since we all (well, most of us) liked beer, we made a bee-line straight for it, and by that, I mean we ran around a preset trail like bees to indicate whether or not we found food. Going straight to it would be an i-line. Watch Dane Cook, you'll understand. And so, we hit EVERYONE'S favorite Hash Mark, the much loved, much desired, and sometimes the most worshipped, Beer Near at [Insert bar name here]. And we drank, and it was good, and the Hash Gods saw that it was good, and blessed us with more beer. Time to move on? I thought so...

The trail continued, and so did we, because that's what we do. And after being led through back lots and alley ways (and seeing a full view of No Name Mark's "equipment".../shudder), we made our way to the next Beer Near at [insert name here], also our last. We were none too happy about that, but whatever, I got over it, and so did most people. As we sat and enjoyed our beverages, Woody put on some music by the world's most beloved pedophile. Yes, I'm talking about Michael Jackson (He's BAD!), and the Thriller dance was done, and we all got down. Then the moment of truth arrived. One of our Virgins decided to spill beer on her lap, which wasn't so bad, were it not for the quote that followed. Here it is, ladies and germs, the reason why our newest named Hasher is named what she is: "Out of beer? I spilled beer on my crotch so you can go ahead and suck it out of there." Something along those lines, anyway. It was done after that. She was instantly named, but it wouldn't be until the circle that it would be official. So after the Great Beer Spill of 2008, we were given a time to go, and so we did, and what followed was probably one of the longer trails I've done so far. We went across the street to the On-In. Ha Ha, didn't see that coming did you? You did? Oh. Fuck. Oh well, more recap, then.

At the On-In, violations were named, though there weren't many, just your typical digitizing, technology on trail, some back-sliders, etc. The odd thing was that our own RA had to do a dead bug, which was lovingly done by No Name Nicki (she can give me a dead bug anytime...giggity). In retrospect, it wasn't odd that Urine Sodomy had to do a dead bug, just unusual. Love ya, pal. After the violations and announcements (see the calender and the Yahoo group for more information on those), it was time for a Naming! After the description of the incident (tell me you didn't see this coming, Bush), our former Virgin shall now be known around the world, at every hash from here on as Bush Beer on Tap. Congrats, Bush, you earned it (and how), and are now a member of one of the most elite clubs in the world, the Hash House Harriers. I dedicate this recap to you, your nerdiness, and your beer-soaked crotch.

After all was said and done and beer was celebrated, the Circle closed and everyone was left to their own misgivings. With that, I end this recap and will see you all on trail at the next OH3 gathering when we celebrate Woddy Wouldn't Pecker's and Jailbait's One Year and They Haven't Killed Each Other Yet aka Anniversary Hash.

Flamboyatron out.

In Attendance:

Hold the Meat
Hot Sement
Mama's Little Shortcake
Cooter Boned--Visitor (Abduction to take place on next visit)
No Name Matt
Painted Plastic P*ssy (Triple P)--Hare
Tico Taz--Hare
Urine Sodomy
Whack-A-Mole
No Name Amy--Virgin
No Name Jake--Virgin
No Name Nicki--Virgin

HASHERS.......LEND ME YOUR BEERS!!!! Okay, I know that won't happen without a bunch of swearing, so just lend me your ears (or eyes, since you will be reading this). Sit right back, and I will tell you a tale.........a tale of Hashers, and Trail, and Beer.

It was another glorious day for a Hash. Once again, the RA was able to convince the Beloved Hash Gods to bless us with fine weather, which was provided in full. We met up this fine day at NP Dodge Park for the start of the gathering and trail. Luckily for us, parking was easy for there was no massive soccer tournament occurring like the last time. Anyway, we gathered around for the start, enjoying the cold beer and warm sun. We socialized and met with some new Virgins. We were even blessed by some visitors from Biloxi. And, as a special surprise and treat, an old favorite came out of the woodwork and joined us for the day. Mama's Little Shortcake came out and decided to play with us. Albeit, it took some begging from Tico to get him out. But out he came, none the less. And so, after chalk talk was completed, Hares were blessed and sent away, introductions were made, and Father Abraham was sung (led by the no singing talent of Urine Sodomy).

The trail led us across the road and into Ponca Hills, leading up a very nice inclined road. We passed some very nice looking houses, and even saw some people out doing yard work. How Ozzy and Harriette of them. It was cute. Homey, even. But enough of that, back to the trail. And so, we came to a photo check at a very nice fountain where we were to have a group pic taken. Well, that did not go according to plan. Let us just say, something got broke, someone fell, and we had to leave the area in haste. Such haste, that the Pack missed the first of the BN's. Although, it would have been missed anyway, cuz the BN was written in the dirt. Not with chalk or flour, just marked in the dirt. But, regardless, it was missed, and the Pack continued along trail very thirsty.

As the trail continued up the hill into Hummel Park, we came across a landing of sorts. The kind where you can park yer car, have a picnic, and enjoy the overview of the dirty Missouri River. A very romantic spot. But, turns out, there was a BN marked in this area. And again, the Pack missed it. Oh, the trail was found quite easily. So easy was it found that the pack followed it instead of seeing the BN. Damn, we were getting mighty thirsty. So, we followed trail some more. Now, while we did not find any beer, we did find some people (possibly college ROTC students) having a paintball war in the woods. We were starting to think they stole our beer. But then, as the Gods granted us favor for good weather, but cursed us to miss the first 2 BN's, they took pity and led us to the 3rd BN. Which by this time, the Pack thought it was the 1st BN.

And because of that, one of the Hares was contacted to figure out the whole snafu, and that's when the Pack was informed of the mishaps. So, the Hares grabbed the beer from the first two stops, and made another two stops for us. It was very kind of them to do so. But, I also think they did it out of fear of the wrath of the RA at the forthcoming Circle. This will be a debate for future generations. But back to trail.

So, we continued on down the trail. Yes, finally we were going downhill instead of uphill. The calf muscles got a workout this day. The trail took us past the old "Altar of Sacrifice" which has been torn down and removed. It is no longer there. Good thing the RA has the Circles for Virgin Sacrifice. But, we then came across the "2nd" beer stop. While we stopped and enjoyed the beer, we were witness to more ROTC training of soldiers in training. They must have been practicing Infantry manuevers, but were doing it badly. But then, thats why they are students. I gave them one thumbs up for effort. And then, the Pack was off on trail again.

Up the raod we went, and then after losing trail momentarily, we were yelled at by the Hares in which way to go. During this, one Hare was snared. Snared by Urine Sodomy. I was so excited, I wanted to smack my own ass out of joy. But, find trail we did, and find beer we did. And then we were off once again to follow trail.

Now at this point, I would like to say that we followed trail like we should have, but everyone in the Pack Zen'd to the On In. Hey, we were thirsty.

And so, we gathered for the Circle. And the Circle was ran, violations were handed out. Special note about violations, the Hares received a Dead Bug, as did Shortcake. Announcements made, and the Circle was closed. And once everyone was transported back to their vehicles, we departed to the On After at The Alpine Inn. Great chicken.

And so, this closes another addition of the Hash Trash. I shall see you all on the next trail. Until then, ON ON WANKERS...

Urine Sodomy

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