ReHash #481

Date: Sun, 23 Apr 2006 23:33:33 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Gee , a resurrection at beastor — Rehash #481 Beast or Egg hunt!

I arrived at the parking lot of the Taughannock sled hill just in time for the chalk talk and a greeting Sideshow Jesus (making his first Ithaca appearance in one and a half years, wonder what he was doing Friday (and if it was good)...?); ya see, I went to this "event" a couple months ago in South Carolina, at which I ran 26.2 miles, but not before talking to who I thought was just a random local attending the same event. But it was not just another local; it was an Ithaca hasher from before my time, SSJ. SSJ had promised to punish me for my m*r*thon at the next opportunity, which was today... But for that we would wait for the circle...

Also in attendance were our newlywed hares, Butt Floss and Little Oral Annie, Pippi Schlongstocking, Cocksmith, Just Kenny, Scooby Snatch, Just Doug, Just Rob, Hot Lips, Dances with Head, Pussy Pong, Extra Testicle, Spike, Unidentified Feathered Orifice, and Bedside Pole Dancer. And of course, the dogs... Maxi Pad, Just Indy, and Just Arlo (stay tuned). Maybe there were others present, I am a hasher, how could it be expected that I would remember all of you?

Anywho, Floss proceeded to explain the differences between the easter beer hunt, and a regular hash (checks will have a number, that is how many goodies are hidden near this check), and when he was done, we checked it out... Around the pond and into a patch of some kind of thick brush, which would have been terrible, but there was beer, and eggs hidden through out it, so it wasn't that bad. Making it even better Tequila Bill joined us. Off we went again, short hashers leading the way since there wasn't much head clearance (HEAD? WHO SAID HEAD?). Out onto a trail where we could stretch out a bit, down hill, across the sledding field, more beer! And this time I was actually able to find some (I had been shut out at the first beer hunt), maybe it was because I could stand while hunting... Mmmmm... Rolling Rock (from a cute little 7oz bottle) and Jelly Beans... On-on again! Across a small stream through some thorns, across a slightly bigger stream, across a road, through some woods to more beer! 3 beer checks on one trail, awesome!!! At this point Spike complained about how his sack was too small for his booty, I don't understand how or why one would even try putting ones ass in ones sack... Also PP found DWH's huevos. Once we were convinced that we had found all the treats that were to be had, we checked it out again. Apparently Dances had a most magnificent hash crash about this time, witnessed by almost everyone besides me. Up a hill, and along a trail, down a hill... and up a short steep hill again to more beer. How much beer are we going to get? Not that I am complaining... At this beer hunt, I found a beer and some candy right away, and sat down to enjoy it, rather than looking for more. It was an absolutely beautiful spring day, not what it had been (cold and rainy) in the morning. Days like this were made for hashing... And I was happy to be hashing... Speaking of hashing, once I had soaked up another beer and much of the nice surroundings we were, on-on again, across the hill top, and down the side, where Sideshow and I found evidence of a crash by the hares while setting the trail, a down-down for them later... onto a trail we went and across a bridge which had no less than one hash mark per foot over it's span, and up a muddy hill, Sideshow slips right in front of me, in slow motion, I see him start going down (If your girlfriend tastes like shit, flip her over...) only to plant a foot and seem to go up upright again, but this would not last long as he slid again this time to the other side, and crashed. I could have stopped to help him, but what could I have given him to help? I didn't have any beer to give him, and that is clearly what he needed... Well I soon had more beer, for less than fifty yards past this beautifully choreographed hash crash there was another beer check. Floss and LOA sure know how to set trail! At this point I saw Scooby and (I think) just Doug sprint for a beer they simultaneously spotted, Scooby got there first. A short little jog along a very wet trail, and we were at the On-In...

Punishments began. This is what I remember...

Floss and LOA drank for setting a Shitty Trail that was way to short on beer and long on running...

Hash crashers, Dances With Head, and Sideshow Jesus, UFO and Bedside drank for that offence.

Newlyweds (our hares again) drank.

Spike (what?!? Spike got a down-down? why yes he did...) drank for finding an empty beer.

Sideshow drank for cutting off his hair, Floss and I (Lord Bürpenstain) joined him for cutting off facial hair (and when one hare drinks...), also drinking for hair modification were Dances and PP (think down south). ET joined us, but I am not sure why...

Bleab (Sideshow Jesus) and Blab (Tequila Bill) drank.

SSJ and I drank for that "event" down in Myrtle Beach (I didn't know the hash had had a special song for m*r*thon punishment). In the interest of accuracy, and to prevent harm from befalling the innocent (as if any hasher, especially Sideshow, is innocent) I would like to point out that Sideshow competed in a different event at the same time and place, only running half as far as I did.

Cocksmith was the FRB of sorts for the day, having found the most trail treasure, she did a down-down for it.

Dog owners drank.

And dogs were named... The retriever formerly known as Just Arlo, is now squatter (ya see, he pees like a girl) and the collie formerly known as Just Indy shall forever be known as Crazy Eyed Indy (for obvious reasons). Arlo did a down-down (with pippi's help) and Indy got a bit of a beer shower...

We pondered naming some humans too... It seems Just Rob can't cum to the hash on his own, and needs someone to help him cum, names considered were "Where's my fluffer" and "Bob Dole". But we tabled the discussion for later. Also, it seems Just Doug, who is in his late 20s has a girlfriend who (very) recently turned 20, "Fucking Barely Legal" was one name that was considered, but this too was tabled...

Just as we were getting ready to grill, our beautiful weather was gone, and the rains had come. Circle was abruptly closed and PP saved the day by going into one of the cabins through a window and opening it for the rest of us so we could eat all the goodies hashers had brought and discuss Ithaca's hash weekend 2006...

Weenies were roasted, dirty jokes were made, and we decided that this years Ithaca hash weekend will hopefully be the weekend of September 22 at the 4H campground.

Also Pippi hinted at getting Bürpenstain to attend other hash weekends this summer. All I can say to that, is bring it on-on...

-On-Out
Bürpenstain

-----------------------------------------

As photographic evidance will no doubt show. After the rain stopped and we were able to exit the cabin, Pippi Schlongstocking and I (Bürpenstain) recieved side-sides.

I guess this is what happens when I try to write a rehash with beer in the system...

On-out (and this time I mean it!),
Bürpenstain

ReHash #482

Date: Tue, 23 May 2006 05:38:25 -0700 (PDT)Subject: IH3 Trailer Trash Re-Hash

Whoohoo!! I reckon' this hash was filled with lots o' drama, so where do I start? Well first of all, to fill you in on the latest trailer trash gossip, some hashers done run off and got hitched!! That's right, and no, we ain't talkin' 'bout Little oral Annie and Grandpa Flossie, that's old news, it's Tequila Bill and Staffy Puller! Congrats to the newlyweds!!!! And boy are you lucky Staffy, that man can BBQ and he's got a full set of teeth!

Ok, on-on to the hash- Arriving first on the scene was Just Bob, who was an hour early to the hash. For this, and several reasons including following EVERY false trail set by the hares, and an interesting shirt he was wearing, which he will have to explain to all y'all later, we really wanted to name him (a) "Little Dimmer," or "Little Dimmy" was also suggested, but he ran away from the hash too early to be named. Smart man! After Just Bob arrived C-Smith, Tequila, UFO, Bedside, hares Floss and Pippi, and yours truly, LOA and hash-hounds Peez- like-a-Girl, MaxiPad and CraZeyes.

On-on we went through areas I didn't even know existed in tburg- all the high rent dicktricks, we went up Kentucky Ave, past a lot of pick-up trucks, down an embankment through a stream where we done saw a row boat just stranded in the middle of the water. We also saw lots of other nice things, like a perfectly good tire or two, a broken bridge, and oh yes, we had a genny cream beer stop with some pork rinds- not one but two different flavors. Yummmyy! On-off we went through many trails and woods till we done end up at the nicest trailer in the park where beer was drunk, and more pork rinds were handed out. Bedside even managed to find a beautiful bright magenta chair cushion to lounge on that someone was just throwin' out, can you believe that? How wasteful.

After a few minutes it looked like a tornado or something might blow in so we vacated the trailer and took up residence at LOA and Floss's rich cousins place down in the village where we waited out the storm. Pippi greeted us all with some nice cheese whiz and cracker horsie do'vres, served on one of those fancy Styrofoam plates, He sure does know how to throw a party. Down-downs were handed out to the hares (we didn't hand out a down-down to Floss for gettin' lost in his backyard while setting- we didn't want to make him feel bad, it's been a while since we've let him out of the house, after that nasty incident involving sniffing glue and wrestling a moving school bus.)

Down-downs were also given for BLEB, BLAB, BOBBIT (C-smith, Tequilla, Staffy Puller) and for not dressin' in their Sunday best (C-smith, Tequila). Also for dog owners, comes latelys, hash crash by a hare while laying trail (Pippi) and his wife while running it. We should have given a down-down for the best Sunday dress of the day which would have gone to UFO and Bedside (pictures will be following!) LOA and C-Smith drank for being too high-class trailer trash, refusing to eat pork rinds, but indulging in the cheese whiz and crackers. Bedside & Floss drank for actually being trailer trash. Bedside, UFO and Floss should also have drank for the beans they apparently all ate for breakfast.

After down-downs we had a BBQ grilled by Tequila of chicken, hotdogs, burgers with white bread; mac and cheese made by Pippi; dessert from Staffy Puller. Lots of beer was drank, cheese whiz was down-downed and snorted, and a great time was had by all! The next hash will be set by Lord Burpenstein...maybe that's why he didn't show up? Was my Lord too good for the likes of this trailer trash?

On-out, your trailer trash correspondent,
L' Oral A.

ReHash #483

Date: Tue, 13 Jun 2006 11:46:47 -0400

Run #: ?? (June 4, '06)
Hare: Commander Burpenstain
Start: Plantations off Freese Rd.
In attendance: Spike, Hot Lips, Floss, LOA, Country Cock, Just Karen, Just Amanda
Scribe: Country Cock

Many apologies for taking so long to get this out. Seeing as it's almost time for the next hash, I'd better stop killing kittens and get to it [Note for Just Amanda's sake: actually, no kittens were killed during the writing of this rehash]. I'll make up for tardiness with lengthiness (and thus give those who weren't able to attend a virtual tour, as it were. Specifically, Toothy, we missed you and hope you're doing well in the final leg of your pregnancy. The hare even had something special for you, as you'll see, which, don't worry, we didn't go anywhere near!).
    It was a crappy, rainy day, like most of the past few weeks, but not too terrible a turnout compared to the past few hashes. (For you virtual hashers, fill your tub with a layer of about six inches of mud and periodically run the shower--cold only--and whip yourself with tree branches while reading this.) I arrived punctually at 3:15 or so to find Spike and Hot Lips sleeping in their cars (yes, each in his own car), no doubt resting up for the cold, wet death march to come. This was, after all, a (fill in the title) Burpenstain hash. So I turned up the radio and settled back to watch the rain and mentally and physically prepare myself for the ordeal His Burpness was still out setting. Floss and LOA soon rolled up, followed shortly by the Burp Himself, who opened his trunk to reveal several cases of crap beer--warm, to boot--which, now having joined him in diminishing rains outside, we tapped into as further preparation. He even had a case or two of non-alcoholic beer, prompted by a rumor that Toothy might be joining us (he must have thought she's a heck of a lush).
    We stood around shooting the shit a while and just about when we'd decided it was sufficiently dead and we should perhaps start this hash thing, a neon yellow Neon pulled up alongside with Just Karen and Just Amanda. (JK got out and, announcing that it was or had recently been her birthday, put on a paper tiara, which she sported the entire hash.) Apparently, JK had been to one (or more?) recent hash and liked it enough to not only come back but drag her daughter into this mess, too. I can just imagine the scene at the breakfast table:
JK: Good morning!
JA: Eh.
JK: Hey, I'm doing this thing later and I'd like you to come along.
JA: Eh. [Scribe's note: I don't mean to disparage JA, but she's a teenager...]
JK: I think you'd like it. Maybe we could skip church and all that God stuff and run around in the rain, through muddy fields and woods? [voice getting higher and trailing off at the end there] And even though I can't let you drink, there'll be lots of beer and, well, frankly, I've been a little worried about you. I just don't think you've been cussing enough lately, and these folks ... their language can get pretty effin' colorful. JA: Hmmm. Yeah, I guess. But only if you wear your tiara.

    Which was great for us (not the tiara, lovely as it was, but the fact that JA came along), 'cause JA was not only a trooper through the extensive shiggy B 'n' S had us run through (sans beer, mind you!) but she was fun to make squirm. But more on that later.
    Finally, at about 3:45, after some comparative reminiscences of their recent experiences in Australia from Floss, LOA, and Spike (the usual hash talk about beer, pubs, and sheep, with a slightly exotic flavor), the consensus was we should get on with it, so B 'n' S ran us through chalk talk and off we went. First, along plantation fields, with marks soon found (meanwhile JA and JK were off on the perimeter running their own trail, for which they would be summarily punished later), then along another plantation field, skirting a stream, and to a check. (Amazingly, marks were laid well enough that they weren't washed away; maybe B 'n' S could give future hares some pointers.) After some mishaps, true trail was found along a path into the woods and off we were into what I consider the Monkey Run area. Off we went, then up and up and up we went, then, checks here and there, and down we went (you know the deal), until we reached a check near one of the bridges over Cascadilla Creek. This was soon solved across said creek, and led to Beer Check #1. We took the cooler to a more secluded spot by the creek and settled in to watch a group of kayakers go over the small dam there. Which, much to our chagrin, they did effortlessly. But they weren't quite so good at catching the beer Floss tossed to one of them (which, it turned out, was one of the non-alcoholic ones, so no great loss).
    More shit was shot, a tree that had fallen into the water was shifted a few feet (I never understood exactly why, and the only thing that could have made it entertaining--watching one of the kayakers slip off while trying to walk it--failed to happen), we drank our beers, and were soon off again. Trail led back over the creek via the other bridge (the bouncy wooden one) and along the creek for a bit. Somehow, we wound our way over to 366, which we crossed near the intersection with Forest Home, and then into the trailer park. Up the hill and to a check that had us stumped for a while and then trail led to the far reaches of the park and through a tiny break in the trees back onto trails within another area of the plantations. Along plantation fields again and to a check at Turkey Hill Rd.
It seemed like time to be heading back, so I checked down, caught a mark and then an arrow leading onto an old railroad bed and then ... a false! Yeah, a false after an arrow. I know! Well, B 'n' S would drink for that later (he also couldn't count marks before falses, setting four on several occasions. The shirt he wore that day reminded us he's in theoretical and applied mechanics, which apparently doesn't require math). Back up the hill and true trail was found across the road into a small development of huge, new, ugly houses. A left at the end and back onto, you guessed it, the railroad bed that was a false a minute ago. Along that for a bit, past what was purportedly Little Miss's former house, along it for a bit more, and to another Beer Check.
    Somehow we got on the topic of the Internet and all the fine things to be found there. Meaning, of course, porn. Which led to someone mentioning a site where you can watch a kitten being killed while you pleasure yourself (based on the, I believe, fundamentalist Christian attempt to dissuade self-pleasurement by trying to convince people that every time you do the deed alone, another kitten dies. Which, of course, led to someone setting up a site where kitten-hating self-pleasurers could satisfy two of life's great pleasures at once.) This discussion went on for longer than warranted simply because it was so much fun watching JA writhe and squirm at the mention of either self-pleasuring oneself or killing kittens. Plus the cursing thing: any curse was met with protests and more squirming. We just couldn't get enough of this!
    But, actually, eventually we did. And off we went looking for trail again. It was soon found along the same railroad bed, which led, eventually, over 366 on that bridge that is so obviously an old railroad bridge but which very few of us had ever scoped out to see if there was a trail along it. There was indeed, and it soon led us to Monkey Run Rd. and a check. (Somewhere around here we lost Hot Lips, who had to get back home.) I seem to recall this was a backcheck (wish I'd written this closer to the actual event so I could actually remember...), but in either case, true trail was found on a trail starting from the left side of the parking lot that few of us knew existed. Into the woods we went. Checks here and there, more trail running, and eventually back out to the lower plantations, along those fields, and back to the start.
    Circle time: We all agreed the trail sucked and was way too dry and sang a happy tune to B 'n' S while he drank for that. In no particular order, I recall other offenses included FRBs (Floss, Spike, and me), Bleab (Spike), Blab (JK and JA), B 'n' S for not being able to count and setting falses after arrows, Comes Lately (me), Bobbitt (JK and JA; even though they did run the whole trail, they cut off a small amount of the beginning ... you see, this and other offenses I can't recall were a product of us trying to come up with any excuse for a drink, even if it was someone else drinking. As Groucho Marx once said, 'Here's to your health, your beauty, your grace, and your generosity. Which gives you some idea of how desperate I am for a drink.' Or something like that). And JK was given a side-side, tiara and all, for having clocked in another year. (JA is so lucky, or, perhaps, unlucky. How many of us have seen our mothers do a side-side? Just put some more singles in the jar for future therapy sessions for her, JK). More target practice on some shit and we soon departed.

Next hash: June 18, Staffy Puller and a mystery co-hare.

ReHash #484

Date: Mon, 19 Jun 2006 14:02:54 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Hot and sticky rehash, June 18th, 2006

Location: Ridgeway Road in Willseyville
Hares: Staffy Puller, and Ball Wrinkle, with at little help from Tequila Bill
Virgins: Just Jessica, and her pooch Just Mindy (who doesn't take any shit from dogs 4 times her size)
Hounds: Pippi Schlongstocking, Cocksmith, Dances With Head, Pussy Pong, Liquor Harder, Unidentified Feathered Orifice, Bedside Pole Dancer, Just Bob (If you want your proper hash name, stick around for the circle!), Spike, Women There, Capt. Slimy, Puker, Crazy Eyes, and Pees like a girl...
Hash Scribe: Baron Bürpenstain
Hash marks not normally used, but used at this hash: Nipple Check

As I was driving down Ridgeway road on my way to the start of the hash, I came upon our hares, walking down the road, apparently toward the trail head, so I offered them a ride, and they accepted; one would think that an act of such generosity would be rewarded with warnings pertaining to particularly onerous false trails, but it was not, more on that later.

After unloading the hares at the start of our trail, I cracked open a cold one, and began bitching about the heat, as it had been 95 degrees at the bank I drove past not much earlier. After a chalk talk from Staffy, we were checking out the trail. I went off down the road, to the railroad bed, and saw flower "on-one", 10 feet later, "on-two", a very short distance again, "on-three", and then an arrow, "on-on-on!" Across the creek that drains the swamp, which required complete soaking of my shoes, less than 60 seconds into the hash, only to find a big fat X less than 50 yards past the creek. Now, if I were in possession of more than half a mind, I would have taken this experience, and decided that staying close to the hares was a good idea, but... I do only have a half-mind (if that...). Back out to the road to check it out in some other di-erection. I heard hashers who seemed to be on true trail going south on the very same railroad bed that your truly, Just Bob, and some others had just checked north on, so south we went. After a short while on the railroad bed, we came to the nipple check. After explaining this mark to some who were not familiar with it (this check must be solved by a female hasher, unless one of them flashes the male hashers at the check), Cocksmith, Just Bob (are you sacrificing your genitals?), and I believe it was Bedside Pole Dancer took off into the shiggy surrounding the railroad bed. On-on-on from the left... Into the woods I went, only to hear false moments later. I guess the hares can't count. Back out and across the railroad bed, through some shiggy to a trail, which we followed briefly only to cut back through the shiggy to the same railroad bed we had just been on. And south we went on the railroad bed... Past where the FLT comes in on the right... Past where the FLT leaves on the left... Just Bob told me he suspected we were on a Back Check trail, as we had run past several side trails at this point. Pippi and Spike, who were in front of Just Bob and myself apparently had a similar conversation. After much more running, Just Bob and I were almost up to Pippi and Spike, when Pippi and Spike stopped, and stood in awe where the railroad bed comes out on to white church road. Just Bob and I soon figured out why Spike and Pippi were so shocked, BC 35.

In case you didn't hear that I said BC 35! BACK CHECK 35!!!

Now, I have seen some double digit back checks in my day, but most of those were on narrow twisty trails that required the marks to be close together, we had been running on a railroad bed, the marks were spaced out quite a bit.

Knowing that we were at least a mile and a half from the beer now, there was only one thing to be done, we turned around, and started running, sweeping up many shocked hashers along the way. Discussion of appropriate punishment for the hares began... 35 down-downs was proposed, as was an icing... As we ran some hashers seemed to lose their will to go on, slowing from an eager run in search of beer to a defeated walk in search of relief from the heat. As we were running back I spent a few minutes talking to our virgin for the day, Just Jessica, I learned that Just Jessica works on stuff pertaining to birds, and bats, and their unfortunate interactions with wind turbines, and that she, like me, is of Midwestern origin. I also noted that she might be too smart to be a hasher, as she was able to deduce the reason I am called Lord Bürpenstain after only one monstrous belch, I blamed it on the beer I had at the trail head, but honestly, I probably would have been burping anyway. When I (finally) got back to where the checking was to be done, I could already see much of the hash sipping their beer in the shade on the FLT. It seems that TB knew where the beer was, and didn't run one hash mark worth of false trail in getting to it, and that Dances With Head had stumbled across the BN prematurely when avoiding shiggy trying to get back to the railroad bed earlier. As the last of the hashers who had ventured down what could possibly be the longest false trail in the history of the Ithaca hash came into the beer near, we noted that Arlo was one dirty dog, and that we couldn't tell if Toby was, being a black lab and all... Eventually someone (no doubt one of the hashers who didn't do the back check 35) decided that it was once again time to check it out. And off we went, along the FLT with a check and a Y and a short excursion off to the side of the FLT for a little while only to return to the FLT until I heard Dances yell "beer near" Eager to begin relaxing again, I sprinted past Capt. Slimy, Women There, Cocksmith and Arlo, only to find that Dances had made an ass out of you and me, by assuming that Ball Wrinkles truck would mean beer, but no beer was found, nor were any markings in flower to indicate that we should have found beer. Dejected, I walked out to the road, and up towards Eastman hill. Up-up Eastman hill on the FLT we went, Just as it seemed the trail was getting flatter, we made a left up a switch back trail, which was also up-up, but we stopped to cool both hashers and hounds alike at a small spring coming out of the side of the hill. Up the hill we trudged. BN spotted, look for the beer! Further up the hill another BN? Then we found a backpack containing a lot of warm beer, and a bag of ice which was failing miserably at its appointed job... I 'enjoyed' a warm Genny cream ale as the rest of the hash arrived. Apparently Genny cream is Liquor Harder's mom's favorite beer, which gives Liquor Harder a funny feeling about the beer. We pondered the finer points of cheap beer. Is it better to have a cheap beer that tastes like piss, or a cheap beer that taste like nothing? Most advocated beer with no flavor, but some of us chose the beer with bad flavor. Dances and Just Jessica discussed bird watching, and I noted on Just Jessica's ankle a tattoo of a Great Blue Heron. After a couple of group pictures, we were on-on again. Going only slightly farther up the hill, before turning off trail and through some possible broken ankle territory before going around to cross the abandoned Eastman hill road, and go down a seriously steep incline which Ball Wrinkle had decorated with a large rubber snake right in the middle of the trail. At the bottom we found a check, where Pippi and I relaxed on a log while waiting for more hashers so we could check. Well, pippi got so relaxed on this log that he farted in my general direction. I protested "you could have leaned the other way", But pippi claims he couldn't have, as he would have tipped over... Anywho, 3 more hashers arrived, and we spread out in all directions in search of flower. I found no flower, but I did find a nice cold creek about 50 ft. from the check, As I rejoiced while cooling my feet and ankles in the cold flowing water, Arlo's mom sent him over to cool off with me. After Arlo and I played in the creek for a while somebody found trail heading back out to the road, and the on in. I trudged downstream, trying to stay cool as long as I could, and found one spot in the creek deep enough to induce shrinkage, after that part of the creek, I felt sufficiently cooled and took the most direct route available back to the trail, and along the road to the on-in, where we found Toothy Lunker, Just Drake, and Fishy Fingers who had cut off the trail, an excusable offence considering the state of Toothy's baby bump, but we would punish them none the less. Just Bob, and Spike had to leave early and missed the circle.

After carrying some coolers a little ways off the road, we opened the circle. After punishing the hares for a setting a shitty trail, we welcomed our virgin, who made, who made herself cum.

We proceed to punish various hashers for various offences.

Bun in the oven — Staffy (plus the other hares) and Toothy

Fathers and Fathers to be — Tequila Bill, Ball Wrinkle (and when one hare drinks...), Fishy Fingers, Women There.

Everyone who saw the BC 35 — Pippi and Lord Bürpenstain (Spike and Just Bob had to take off...)

Everyone who did none of the BC 35 — DWH, Pussy Pong, Tequila Bill, and more I believe...

Bleabs and Blabs — Our Virgin, Just Jessica was willing (eager?) to do another down-down even though it was explained to her that virgins need only drink once if they wish, and UFO and Bedside both drank for BLABing even though I am sure only one of them (UFO?) was navigating...

First Bastard In — Dances...

Kilt in the circle - Pippi

Bird watching on trail — Dances, Just Jessica, Your Truly (for spotting the Great Blue Heron on Just Jessica during a bird watching conversation), and Ball Wrinkle (who had watched as I extended my middle digit after the BC35)

There were more accusations made, I don't remember them, and shame on you for expecting me to!

We paused the circle so we could continue making accusations later if needed, and headed (HEAD, WHO SAID HEAD?) over to the home of Staffy and TB so we could feast upon all the goodies hashers had brought, and that TB was about to grill. A good time was had by all.

ReHash #485

Date: Wed, 5 Jul 2006 13:55:43 -0400 (EDT)
Subject: Hash House Harriers hit Hammond Hill

A lot of alliteration, eh?

Dances With Head and Pussy Pong were kind enough to set a shitty, shitty trail trough Hammond Hill state forest yesterday for the likes of myself (Bürpenstain esquire), Pippi Schlongstocking, Cocksmith, Harry Condom, Jr., Extra Testicle, Butt Floss, Little Oral Annie, Spike, Just Jessica, Visitors: Moroccan Mole and Whack a Mole both of the S.H.I.T. hash down in DC, and Virgin: Just Ellen. Pooches: Squatter, Maxi Pad, and Just Mindy.

I was BLABing, as is often the case, and I was late to start my pre-hash beer, so I drank quickly as Dances gave the chalk talk. This, of course, prompted much belching as we were checking it out (across the street, all around the parking lot and down the hill to the south, before finding true trail heading north along the road we drove in on). The belching, and comments pertaining to it from Whack-a-mole, reminded me of something that had happened on the day before the hash. It seems that my burps made a fellow runner from New Hampshire think there was a bear in the woods, until he got close to me and noted that it was just some burping freak... Down the hill all the way to the other road, where we went up the hill... At this point my legs complained "you fool, there was beer back at Dances' car, why did you leave" I told them to shut up, because I was going to hash! As we were trudging up the hill and turned onto a trail going into the woods Just Ellen noted the shirt I was wearing and asked if I had gone to med school in Peoria, Illinois. I told her that I hadn't, but that I had held summer jobs at the med school in Peoria. Well it turns out that Just Ellen and I are from the same small city about 800 miles away (anyone care to guess which one?). We kept going up for quite some time, at least it felt that way. One of our hares seems to have a fondness for placing hash marks on horse shit. As the trail turned from uphill to rolling hills we came across Just Diane who keeps telling me and LOA that she is going to come to the hash, but she doesn't... This week we even brought the hash to her, but she still didn't join us... So Just Diane, when are you going to hash with us? Spike and I soon came across those wonderful marks B and N (in that order, right next to each other) and Pippi, who appeared to be on the verge of tears. Apparently he had been looking for beer, unsuccessfully, for several minutes by the time that Spike and I arrived. I was on my way to a culvert to see if the beer was there, when I almost tripped over a cooler. Beer found.

We sloshilized as the pack of thirsty harriers arrive and joined us in sloshilization. Conversations about home between Just Ellen and I made the rest of the hash realize that Bürpenstain was a freakin' nerd in high school. Various hashers threw a big stick in various directions, and Max was having a ball retrieving it...

After the beers were drunk we checked out the trail again, hoping to find more beer. Pippi and I followed a trail into the woods. We split up at a Y and I heard him on-8 while I was on-2, being the idiot that I am, I reversed my course to join him, only to hear him, and a couple other hashers counting backwards as they ran back towards me... The dreaded back check (at least it wasn't a BC 35). Well, we kept going back to the Y and went where I had been. Up and down the rolling trail, through a couple of shoe sucking muck holes. We came upon a check... The hares can't count... at least 3 of us thought we were on true trail, but none of us were on the same trail... By the time I got back to true trail, Pippi had come across another beer near, and again, had not yet found beer. This time we were still hunting the beer when Dances (who set the beer) arrived to help us find it, but he was useless. Someone found beer, and we went as long as we could allowing Dances to search in the wrong area while we drank. While drinking we discussed various topics: theater, bodily functions, illness... We even discussed searching for flower, but only after we drank the beer, and munched the chips... While we were running through the woods trying to dodge the horse shit, and mud holes we came upon a Y and a mountain biker at the same time. We asked about flower on the trail he had come down, and said something about seeing some letters. ON-IN we figured, and took off down the trail. ON-IN it was as we saw the marks for ourselves and made our way back into the parking lot. We wanted beer, but we would have to wait for Pussy Pong, as she was carrying the keys to Dances With Head's car, which held the beer. Eventually 5 smiling women (among them PP) and one Moroccan Mole came walking out of the woods. We got some beers and opened the circle.

We made the hares drink, for they had set a shitty trail.

We made the virgin drink, because she is a virgin. When asked who made here cum, she readily anticipated the next question and went strait to the sexual interpretation of cumming. I see we have a true hasher in Just Ellen...

Floss and LOA drank because there was an article about their nuptials in the Ithaca Journal.

We made the early arriving bastard and late arriving bastard drink. I was the late bastard; we had some difficulty determining who was earliest. Someone asked if it was Just Jessica. No... She learned from here first hashing experience not to be the first one there (I think I said last week that she was too smart for the hash, I think I might have been right). Anyway, I am rambling, because I have forgotten who the early bastard was. Whoever it was drank with me.

Dances drank (with PP of course) for fucking up hash lyrics.

Pippi drank for FRBing.

We made Pippi drink again for being the first one to both beer nears and not finding any beer.

We then made Dances drink (and when one hare drinks...) for not being able to find the beer even though he hid it...

ET mentioned head, we chanted about fuckin in the woods and the damage that it does to the forest.

Then Arlo decided to investigate Max's head. All this talk of head, and licking, and licking heads made me express my feelings about licking heads. I had problems with my prepositions and the meaning of the words I said was completely different from my intensions. (I prefer to be receiving the licking of the head, I stated that I had no problem with licking the head... I guess it is a good thing I already have a name, thank goodness for my gastrointestinal blessings). Anyway, with the "WHO SAID HEAD" award at the perimeter of the circle, I crossed over to lick it... Dances seemed very eager to sit on the head, once I had licked it...

All this talk of heads led to the distribution of some awards. Extra Testicle got the "WHO SAID HEAD", and I got ET's namesake. We drank together.

I accused Floss of doing well in a competitive event without participating in it (Floss the amazing), he owed us a down-down for that. I was made to join him, as was LOA, as we are fools who often try to run fast for reasons other than getting to beer. We were sang a little ditty about how serious hashers don't do m*r*thons. For a variety of reasons, one being accuracy, the second, and major reason being that I like beer and I knew it would get me another down-down, I corrected the hash and stated that the event I had done on the previous day was not a m*r*thon, but an ultr*-m*r*thon. I got the extra down-down...

Somebody noted that Dances was sporting new footwear. Pippi, being evil, decided that Dances needed to shoot the boot Montana style. For this, Pippi needed not only Dances' shoe, but his sock, for filtration purposes... Upon seeing this spectacle, Just Jessica exclaimed that she would never wear new shoes to a hash (providing more evidence that she is way to smart for hashing).

I accused Dances of fucking up hash songs, but since we already punished him for that, I received the punishment.

Floss was made to drink, because the dude tattooed on his leg had his eye poked out by a thorn. And we decided that everyone who had been inked should join him. After they drank, we decided that all tattoos should be shown to the hash. Moroccan Mole was the only one on whom the tat was not already apparent. He unveiled a huge piece covering his whole back, and made many other tattooed hashes feel weak for their lack of commitment.

We decided that circle was done, and that even though the circle was done, that didn't mean that the festivities were done... so we reconviened for an on-after at the crooked board, where we had more beer, beef sticks, and horse shoes were played...

On-on till the next time, Bürpy

ReHash #486

Date: Thu, 20 Jul 2006 15:58:56 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: Ithaca Rehash 2006-07-16

Sunday was a beautiful, sunny, and humid day. Perfect for a hash. There was no designated hare, so Dances With Head brought flour, anticipating that a hare would be selected from those in attendance.

The Ithaca die-hard hounds trickled in, and immediately started working on a pitcher at the Fall Creek Saloon. The bar is was obviously dog-friendly, because Puker (aka Toby) had two other doggie friends to play with. After killing two pitcher of beer, the hashers though they had waited long enough for any stragglers to arrive.

We decided that we would have a tag team trail. The first hare would run until caught, or a beer stop was reached, and then a new hare would be selected. We drew lots (actually, I volunteered) to see who the first hare would be.

I (Ball Wrinkle) took off like a turbo-charged box turtle. I had left my trusty hound in the care of DWH, so I was travelling light. I didn't want to be caught, so I zigged, and zagged my way through the streets and eventually arrived (uncaptured by the hounds) at the Chanticleer. I ordered a pitcher of their cheapest beer with the $7 I had in my pocket, and sat down to wait.

I didn't have to wait long. The arrived shortly with my poor overheated dog in tow. The bar biatch wouldn't let him stay inside in the A/C, so I retired to the outdoors to pamper my little 4-legged friend. Don't worry, he was fine, just panting up a storm to keep cool.

The hounds finished the pitcher, and Lord Burpenstain was selected for the next leg. He headed down the street like a cool breeze. We wouldn't see him for a while. He's too fast for this pack. After waiting at least a full 30 seconds, we gave chase. We soon realized that we hadn't taken note of the direction he headed, so we did a bit of extra checking. Damn! We mighta got him if we had just... Anyway, we found the scent, and made our way further from the start point. What the heck is going on here? We didn't sign up for all this exercise, besides, those two pitchers at the start, plus one more were starting to take effect.

We got off trail, back-tracked, tried a new angle, and found a which-y-way. At this point, we knew we were pretty close to Castle Burpenstain, so we gambled all our drunken energy on one direction. BINGO! Lady Luck was on our side. We arrived at Castle Burpenstain, and after some double-talk from Lady Burpenstain about the whereabouts of the Lord, we spotted him. He had to make a beer run to the local Quicky-Mart for the beer stop.

So we chilled out with his neighbor Don?, and a pair of hyperactive Pit Bulls Bitches that Puker wanted NOTHING to do with. I thought they were cute, but Puker was Mr. Stuck Up.

After drinking a few Red Bull 16 OZers, DWH headed off to set the final leg.

Sorry DWH, but we didn't follow your awesome trail. We just took the most direct path back to the Creeker.

Back at the Creeker, we were joined by a bobbit + reluctant virgin.

We sang to the hares (each other) and to the bobbit + reluctant virgin. The virgin ran off after hearing the singing. Not hash material I guess.

We consumed a few more beers, ate some munchies, and left for our homes.

The End

ReHash #487

Date: 12006 August 9 17:40:49 EDT

Hash No. ???, Friday, July 28, 2006

Scene of the crime: Multiple seedy drinking establishments in the vicinity of the Ithaca Commons.
Perpetrators: The Ithaca hash and multiple strays from as far away as Jacksonville Beach H3, FL.
The Crime: Not enough beer consumed, and a suspicious game of Poke-her.

Details:
It was a warm, sunny afternoon when Pussy Pong and myself came strolling down the Ithaca Commons to join in on a “New Moon” pubcrawl hash, when we came upon Mud-Man and Robin Wood wandering aimlessly and eating pizza, just outside Center Ithaca. “Follow us”, we said, and led them to the dark and shady Moonshadows Tavern.

Once inside, and before the pitcher of beer was filled by the barperson, we were accosted by several more suspicious hashers - Floss, LOA and Pippi, then Spike, and soon followed by Hops On Pops, and a bunch of virgins that would come to out-number the Ithaca hashers! Among the virgins were YTBNs Cathy, Natalie, Marni, Cindy, John, Yolanda that actually particiapted in introductions and trail, we scared 3 others off before trail started! Also, Just Carolin is an unnamed hasher of 5 years, started in Guam, lives in Gainesville FL; and Hops On Pops is from Jacksonville/Gainesville, FL. Apparently she's been hittin' trail quite a bit with some other former Ithaca Hashers, Sphincter Sicle and Pond Scum. There were the usual greetings, and a song about who had head (HEAD?!, who said head?), just to warm the virgins up a bit. Soon (ok, not so soon, but eventually), we moved to the back room to attempt a chalk-talk, and then I grabbed a piece of chalk and ran out the back door like a two-bit criminal, running this way and that around the streets of downtown Ithaca.

Once the hashers noticed I was gone, they took off running for me. Pippi found me first, seated innocently in Pete's Cayuga Pub, but the rest of the crowd soon joined in as well. We lost a couple virgins to dinner at The Lost Dog, and another, Just Cathy, demonstrated her exotic dancing skills, and we all drank some more beer.

This time it was Spike's turn to run away like a criminal, and he led us to that no-good place called Felicia's Atomic Lounge. Fortunately, Felicia had beer for us, or I don't know what we would've done! Hops On Pops introduced us to some Red-Headed Sluts (the shots), too!

ButtFloss grabbed the chalk and ran next, leading us on-down to Uncle Joe's Sports Club, where we found yet more beer. Some of the virgins flirted at the bar, and we all had fun.

... But after a long delay at Uncle Joe's, MudMan, Robin Wood and Just Cathy grabbed the chalk and ran out the door. When we ran after them, all we saw were chalk-drawings of hot, nekkid wimmen on the sidewalk, which we followed with glee. So gleeful, in fact, that we soon got lost, and were accosted by the very hares which we sought to catch! And where did this occur? - why right next to Uncle Joe's, of course - it was a circle jerk.

The unfinished pitcher of beer was still there, and someone bought another, and we had a randy ol' time. We almost did circle right then and there, but no, Hops on Pops said we should round up the guilty at the original scene - MoonShadows. So one last time, we ran off after Hops, up and down the streets. While passing by Chanticleer, a long-time fugitive from the Ithaca hash ran out and joined in the throng - none other than Skywacker!

On-in to Moonshadows we went, and took over the front of the bar for all manner of passersby to see me mess up circle. One thing I've left out thus far is the Poke-Her game that we'd been playing on trail all evening - Hops On Pops handed out one card to each of us at each bar, in a game of 5-Card Stud. It turned out that there were several outstanding hands, but Little Oral Annie, who'd been given 5 cards just like the rest of us, had the winning hand - Six of a Kind (queens)!!! So circle soon commenced, and Hares, Poke-Her champs, virgins, cums latelys, and all other manner of wankers drank for their crimes.

Truly a Shitty trail! Many thanks to Hops On Pops and her no-longer-virgin friends for visiting us here in Ithaca,
On-on,
-Dances With Head

ReHash #488

Date: Fri, 17 Nov 2006 16:08:21 -0500

Well.... Bürp is setting trail this weekend, and, while i could prophetically write a rehash for this hash, i decided that i should play dumb (it’s so easy, after all) and give this cautionary tail, set in historic view, of Bürp’s trail-setting procedures.

So there was this hash...

Many many moons ago, i showed up at Troy Park on South Hill for this hash. I was expecting a large turn out for such a wonderful summer day --ah the days of summer past. But alas, Hare Bürpenstain and Hare Just Karen were sitting on the edge of a gravel parking lot, chatting away with Road Kill and some other Just whose name escapes me in my old age of story telling. Then Inspector Speculum showed up and that other Just had to go. Not sure if those two things were related, but it makes a great insinuation.

Anyway, the ten of us took off on trail, heading up hill, through minor shiggy, and into the raspberries. There was this detour through the forest, and then we all stopped at the large green water tank for some beer, making sure that all fifteen hashers made it through the local neighbourhoods alive.

After a good round of drunkenness and listening to Road Kill talk about his technology on trail that lets him follow the score of the game, all thirty of us ran back through the woods and down the hill, where we got to invade Ithaca College. Being summer, the campus was absolutely filled with one or two students, but we couldn’t get them to have a beer and sing hash songs. You know how snobby those IC students get...

So all fifty hashers ran off, back up the hill searching for beer. It wasn’t until we came to the cement chute thingy near the swampy pond that we stopped for another case of beer and a long round of chatting about nothing in particular. So all of us --there were only a hundred or so at this point; some must have wandered off-- sat around checking out the large snails on the walls and talking about stolen panties while drinking the world’s highest quality beer substitute. A fun time was had by all. Some passers by passed by, talking about dog poop, but immediately went silent when they spotted us hiding in the low brush off the side of the old-people walking trail. Alas, that many people just cant hide in a single cement chute thingy.

So, in relative shame, two hundred hashers hashed off to the end of the hash, where they found an “On In” and Pippi, LOA, Floss, Dances, and PP hanging around in a playground awaiting adoring adolescent fans.

With all the extra people, the hash just couldn’t fit in the park anymore --zoning restrictions and such-- so we meandered over to Inspector Speculum’s house, which just happened to be right next door. There was beer, a sinfully unused hot tub, and a grill. Down downs were enforced and Pippi lost something like his virginity and was looking around on the ground for it.

So... that’s the kind of trail Bürp sets: thousands of hashers running through shiggy-covered forests, avoiding pondering beer-deprived college students while listening to Road Kill talk about how he is losing money on the game he is following on his new cellular toy, only to end up hanging around lecherously in playgrounds, lamenting the limited supply of the highest quality beer substitute available in the near-by minimart.

Yes my friends, be warned of Hare Bürpenstain and his wily trail-setting ways... or you could be next (this Sunday).

-- Spike
Hash List Bitch

ReHash #489

Date: 12006 August 16 13:51:09 EDT

Start location: North side of Monkey Run
Hares: Toothy Lunker and Little Oral Annie (The blonds)
Hounds: A lot
Virgins: Just Linnie, Just Sam, Just Melissa and Just Adam (that’s right, 4 of em...)
Wanker writing this rehash: Lord Bürpenstain

When I arrived at the parking lot where Hanshaw road makes a 90 degree turn, and the day’s hash was to start, I was rather thirsty, but no beer was present. Lot’s of hashers, but not beer... So I socialized (couldn’t sloshilize, I had no beer!), while we awaited our hares, who we assumed were setting beer. Soon the hares arrived. It was good to see Toothy getting ready to run a hash. She hadn’t hashed since my virgin hash!!! Anywho... Since Toothy and LOA were going to make us run to beer, rather than give us some at the start, we demanded the chalk talk begin immediately...

As soon as the chalk talk was done, we took off into the woods, a couple of Ys later we came to a check by that building back there that Cornell owns. From this check Trojan took off into the woods, I heard him on-2 while other hashers were scattering in various directions not finding much. After not hearing Trojan for a while I figured he must have been on, and I took off after him with Pippi shortly behind me... I soon heard false coming from behind me... Our hares had hidden the X. So back to the check we went, and true trail was found going the other direction behind the CRC building and into the woods. I worried about Trojan, but other hashers who knew him better assured me that he would be alright. Sure enough they were right, I passed Trojan running along on true trail (how did he do that?) going down the hill to the rappelling line. Most hashers went single file down the hill with the aid of the rope (it’s a good thing the hares put this part of the trail before the beer), but Dances With Head found his own path down, which was a little scary to watch from the bottom (I didn’t want him landing on me...). From here, we forded Fall Creek, and ran upstream on some overgrown trails, then we forded Fall Creek again and ran upstream some more along the bank, then we forded Fall Creek, and ran upstream, only to ford Fall Creek and turn downstream (this should have been a clue, but I am pretty thick). Then we started up the hill out of the Gorge... Just Bob, Just Sam, Pippi, and yours truly, were on our way up the very steep incline when Just Bob exclaimed “BC5”... Back down to where we came out of the water, and upstream we ran, all the way to the washed out bridge, where we found a check. The Hash scattered in hopes of finding beer soon (I feel that I must remind you at this point that some of us had not had a drink since breakfast). Just Karen was on-on-on across the bridge so I swam across the creek to get to the trail... To my surprise, nobody followed me... I ran along the trail going upstream, finding 3 marks, and then no marks for quite a while, then a Y... I found no marks on either leg of the Y, but I could hear on-ons coming from upstream, so I took the fork of the Y which stayed close to the creek. I ran in solitude seeing no flour, or hashers, but continuing to hear on-on coming from upstream. As I closed in on the source of the on-ons I had been hearing I realized that the source was on the other side of the creek, so I found a break in the woods and jumped down the cliff to ford Fall Creek again and found Just Melissa running up the shore. In a hundred yards we came to a check (complete with pack arrow pointing across the creek), so I forded Fall Creek (again) and ran upstream on the trail I had been following when I got lost (I am told that the last of the 3 marks I saw across the bridge was to have been an X... I still can’t figure out what Just Karen did, and how that solitary Y got over there...). I soon caught up to the hash, at the beer near after crossing under the rte 13 bridge. As I arrived and grabbed a brew, which was sorely needed at this point, the hash was realizing that Maxi Pad was MIA, so Floss took off back tracking to find his pooch. Just Mindy and Just Jessica were having a blast playing with a stick, and Just Sam was taking pictures of the enthusiastic pooch and her mommy (Hey Just Sam, you should send your pics from the hash to Dances With Head: danceswithhead@hotmail.com).

Soon, we were off again, you guessed it, fording Fall Creek... We weaved through the thick growth on the bank and up the hill to Lower Creek road. Here the marks switched from good ole reliable flour to thin pink chalk... A T was the first mark. A couple of little Hs were found going left, and off we went looking for the 3rd... I was following Trojan, I figured he must have been seeing marks, since he didn’t slow down at the intersection, and went left, and even back into the woods... I realized he was just running to where he thought the trail was, not where the trail actually was, so I turned back, and LOA showed some of us a tinny little X off to the side of lower creek road... So we ran down lower creek road... And further down lower creek road, and then even further down lower creek road, we couldn’t see any marks, it seems pink chalk doesn’t stand up to cars very well... Up at the front of the pack Country Cock and Just Karen had the message passed to them from LOA that they should stop at the stop sign at Pinckney rd for a check. We scattered, repeatedly asking LOA if we were on, as there was no way for us to tell given that we couldn’t see the hash marks, but then, all of a sudden, we could see the hash marks on Pinckney rd (which must have less traffic than lower creek). On-on-on we went north on Pinckney... As I was running along, something caught my eye in the ditch on the side of the road; I stopped and grabbed what I thought was a stuffed dog, but it was actually a puppet (who had some nose damage), so I stuck my hand up his ass (which made him much more expressive), and named him George. Further a long we went, and were able to see all the marks, even the BC8... so back we went and off along the boundary of a field, and around a corner to a power line clearing and out to Etna road, where CC went left, and others went right... Soon a beer near was found on the right, and we shouted at CC, but I guess he couldn’t hear us... We sloshilized... I discovered George’s ass makes a great koozie. Eventually CC came to the beer near, we discussed hash naming with virgin Just Linnie, and we learned how Country Cock came to be known as such, my naming was a little more obvious. The hash figured out that we were on an A2B hash, and that the B was Toothy’s nearby house. Some hashers who had to leave before the on-in, and took off to get transportation back to Monkey Run from Fishy Fingers... Country Cock helped the hares out by carrying the beer from the 2nd beer near to the on-in, and Pippi and I helped CC out, lightening his load by exactly 2 beers.

We spent a fair amount of time waiting to start the circle as hashers retrieved cars, and LOA looked for Floss and Maxi Pad... The hash got its chance to meet Just Ardis, who was having a drink of her own... Toothy commented that this was the first time that her nipples had been sucked at a hash for nutrition purposes...

When we did start circle we punished Toothy for haring (LOA would get hers later).
We welcomed the virgins who had stuck around for the circle (Just Linnie, and Just Sam).
Floss and Max arrived! They had followed the whole poorly marked trail successfully!!!
We called LOA to call off the search, and miracle of miracles, she had her phone with her.

There were A LOT of down-downs given in this circle; I forgot most of them... Here are the few remaining ones I do remember...

We punished those front running bastards: myself, CC, Pippi and more... The early and late arriving bastards, Butt Floss, Pussy Pong, and Cocksmith, were given a down-down.
Some time during the various accusations and punishments LOA returned... And we punished her for being a hare, which meant that Toothy got another drink...
I was made to drink (from George’s ass) for drinking from George’s ass... LOA (when one hare drinks...) was punished for competing twice in the last week, and whining about it...
Someone mentioned that it is shocking that LOA was now a grandma (which caused expressions of disbelief from the virgins). I found it more shocking that she would marry the likes of Floss, and expressed said feelings...
Extra Testicle had to drink because he really wanted to sing a certain hash song, so we sang it for him...
Dances and Pong were punished for living in sin, and being a ‘ginky’ (geeky, and kinky) couple.
The mention of ginkyness prompted the spontaneous sharing of a joke on my part... involving a ‘shocking’ sex act which uses 3 fingers on the same hand, and comparing it to a similar act named after a star trek character which uses 4 fingers... My expression of ginkyness was cause for my joining PP and DWH in this down-down...
Side-Sides were given to the hares, and PP for being around 1 year after their last side-sides.

And some awards were passed around...
My comments about Spocking, and LOA marrying floss earned me the big balls award, which was given to me from Toothy.
I responded in kind with a brand new hash award. I decided that since George had been on the side of the road for god knows how long with out hashing he would from this point forward be known as ‘George, the cums way too lately award’, and gave him to Toothy

The hash was instructed to go in peace and get a piece...

A few of us stuck around for the eating of hot dogs which Fishy was nice enough to make for us...

On-on,
Cmdr. Bürpenstain

ReHash #490

Date: 12006 August 31 19:04:27 EDT

The charming and disarming Toothy Lunker set Sunday’s Hash trail in Yellow Barn forest in the pouring rain. Now that’s what I call ‘jutzpah! The small but high-quality crowd of hounds (i.e., Spike and Tequila Bill) had a great time sniffing out Toothy’s damp flour. Roxey, the K-9 Hasher, stood guard over the beer and bourbon. After an interesting conversation at the pond about global warming, drosophila larva, pupa, beer, and underpants, Toothy and her twosome continued on the last half of the trail toward the On-In.

All at once a car appeared, whereupon out hopped Dances with Head, Pussy Pong, Extra-Testicle, and Hairy Condom Jr.! The former two claimed to be at the State Fair doing “animal research” but it became clear that they merely wanted to see the world’s largest swine mate in front of a crowd. ET and HCJr., on the other hand, were just back from the equally-soggy Pud R*n. During the On-In, ET attempted to communicate with Roxey the dog by using a series of simulated eyebrow movements. This caused a well-meaning but slightly spooky citizen to stop his pick-up truck on Yellow Barn Rd. to ask if ET was in need of assistance. After being assured that all was well, the man sped off to his favorite bridge to resume playing his banjo.

All in all, a most excellent Hash! See you in two weeks!

On-on!
Tequila Bill

ReHash #493

Date: Mon, 09 Oct 2006 16:18:37 -0400
Subject: Rehash -IH3 # 493

Hash Logistics:
Date: October 08, 2006
Location: Seneca Str. Garage
Hare: CC
Hashers in attendance: Road Kill, ET, Hairy Condom Jr, Just Rob, Tequila Bill, WT, Spike, Dances with Head, and PP.
Bobbit: Staffy Puller, and Lil' Tequila Puller in the belly.

We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day on a fall Sunday afternoon. Dances and I pulled into the top floor of the Seneca Str. Garage only to find Road Kill, all by himself looking over the railing. Was he thinking of jumping?, Or was he dreaming of Starbucks Coffee, or even maybe a beer at Kilpatricks? We didn't really wonder about that, as Dances and I were more concerned to find beer for ourselves. And we didn't ask for a million dollars!. Shortly after, we started drooling at the thought of cold, cheap light beer, CC showed up in his car, and of course a cooler full of cold beer!!!!!!!!!! Hmmmmmmmm heaven!.

Shortly after, Spike showed up, followed by ET, Hairy Condom Jr., and Just Rob. Before joining us though, Just Rob had to get his caffeine fix, and bought himself an overpriced Starbucks coffee, which for their credit it did smell wonderfully. And before long, Tequila Bill joined us, as well as WT, with his porno DVD. He claims he was going to mail it before coming up to meet with us, but couldn't find a mailbox outside the Ithaca Post office!.

We stayed at the garage a bit longer, while Road Kill and Wt pondered whether they could jump off the roof and like squirrels grab onto branches of a tree that was under us. We also waived at some tenants of the Hilton, who were curiously looking at us. But, then we got bored, we finished our beers, and so we decided to go on trail.

Some made their way out of the garage using the stairs, and others, including this lazy hasher, took the elevator. We were off, running through the Commons, going by the cult coffee shop, and through the parking lot behind benchwarmers. Was CC going to give us a tour of all of Ithaca's parking garages? Well, we did run through the Green str. garage, but then soon after, we found our selves crossing the Clinton Str. bridge and heading down a small trail and following six mile creek briefly. CC, then had us climb up a hill behind the IPD, then jump over some railing, and climb over some rocks to end up somewhere on the S. Hill. By now, I was exhausted, and of course a DFL. CC, who was sweaping was nowhere to be found, and in front of me, Just Rob and Tequila Bill looked lost. the rest of the pack was long gone. From our location, I though that maybe, just maybe, we would stop over at Lord Burpenstain's house for a BN, but I was proven wrong, as I did find last mark, and showed Tequilla Bill and Just Rob the true trail. So on we went east now, heading towards the Wildflower Garden and the Reservoir. Very familiar territory. Soon after, CC catches up to us. Apparently he had been waiting for us after the long uphill, but we slipped past him. But, we caught up to everyone else, as there seemed to have been some confusion around a check point. But, true trail was down the trail along 6 mile creek. Road kill not wanting to get his feet wet, and WT, Tequila Bill, Just Rob, and myself wanting to shortcut, decided to just run on the road and then cut down to the BN instead of following true trail. Our shortcut, ended up being a long cut afterall. but we did make it. And for some reason Roadkill "got lost" during his shortcut and didn't show up to the BN until 20 minutes later.

This was a very cool BN spot CC had chosen. Someone has used the rocks by the creek to create art, by balancing different shapes of rocks on each other. Some of the different pieces of art were pretty amazing. While the rest of us sat down and enjoyed our beer, pretzels, and fig newtons that CC graciously provided, Spike, ET, and Hairy Condom Jr. got their creativities together and tried to create some similar hard rock art. ET seems to be having a really tough time balancing the hard rocks on each other, whereas Spike, more experienced with rock hard objects, seemed to be having an easier time. However, I must say that Hairy Condom's piece of work (using rock hard material to depict male genitalia), was much better than anything Spike or ET were able to create.

Well, we had fun, but we wanted to keep going, at which time CC advised us that the trail from this BN started with a BC35!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! back check 35????? well, at least this was along the creek, so us shortcutters that didn't get to run on the scenic route the first time, did it this time!. We went over the bridge, then run through some stinky sewage pipes, across state str. and up eddy or quarry str. (one of those 2). now at this time, Tequila Bill, Just Rob, CC and myself were once again at the back of the pack. CC asked us if we wanted to stay on trail, at which with confidence, we all answered Yes, Of course!.... As soon as we said that, I started thinking if we had just made a big mistake...... Well, trail led us through the driveway of a big building (which according to CC is a school, but according to Hairy Condom is a co-op). As we were running through the driveway/front asphalted yard/parking lot of the "school" building, we see a fence in front of us. Dances, ET, and Hairy had already crossed, so we realize we will need to do some fence jumping soon. While I'm humping the fence, with Dances' assistance, I hear some disturbance............. CC, Just Rob, and Tequila Bill were stopped in front of one of the doors to the "school". A custodian, or a professor, or whoever that guy was, came outside, and scolded the 3 hashers for running through private property, and causing a disturbance!!!!!!!!!!!. If this was/is a school, why was this gentleman being disturbed on a Sunday afternoon? Is this some sort of special school where they are holding classes on Sundays???????????????????? Oh well. Next time we go through their front yard, we'll make sure to call ahead of time and ask for permission!. With a bit more running, we end up crossing Buffalo Str., going through some back alleys, and voila! a BN at Roadkill's place.

This was another well earned hash stop. Here, we learn that while humping the fence, Roadkill has an accident, and ET helped him with pulling his running shorts down. Or maybe was it up??? I don't remember....Oh well. Just for the record, the hash may soon own Roadkill's building above Cascadilla gorge. We made him an offer in exchanging for owning his building. If I'm not mistaken, the offer was: $100,000 dollars (which comes down to ~10k per interested hasher that was there yesterday), some snacks and beer, and a BJ, which I will give to Roadkill dressed as a sheep............ I think at the end, Roadkill decided that a BJ would be more than a fair trade for the building, so we may not need to pay any money afterall!. We will keep you posted on the developments......

We were off again, heading towards the chapter house, then across Stewart Str. Bridge, and heading down the hill past the ithaca cemetery. We ran by beautiful houses, narrow streets, and down the hill, making it down to Buffalo str. again, and entering the parking garage on Aurora Str. Up we went, everyone using the elevator this time I think.

Up at the top of the garage, we found Staffy Puller, and Lil' Tequila Puller in the belly waiting for us. We waiting a bit long for Just Rob to arrive, who for some reason, even though he shortcutted from Roadkill's house straight down to the cars, made it to the garage 10 minutes after everyone had gotten here.

Circle started with Dances leading us or misleading us, as was the case sometimes, through the songs.
CC drunk for a shitty trail.
Roadkill drunk for being a BLEAB, and WT drunk for being a BLAB.
WT also drunk for bring mail to the hash.
Dances, Spike, and someone else drunk for being FRBs.
PP and Just Rob drunk for being DFLs.
ET and Hairy Condom drunk for hosting a band Saturday night and possibly having a gang bang.
ET and Roadkill drunk for hash crashes.
Staffy Puller drunk for being a comes lately, and a BOBBIT.
Hairy Condom and WT drunk for having extremely clean socks even after a shitty trail.
Roadkill drunk for wearing a tshirt advertising a competitive event.
WT and Roadkill drunk for not bringing their hash mugs, even though they claim they haven't had one in 20 years.....
A lot of us drunk for shortcutting.

And there were more accusations which I do not remember, but it was all fun, and everyone drunk.

Then it was time for awards.........

Hairy Condom awarded the Ithaca funnel to WT. (I haven't seen that award in a couple of years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!). Hairy Condom's newest addition, was of course an unused packaged condom with an expiration date of 2002 or 2003, and some hair glued to the outside!............ X;{. WT, however, refused to accept the award as he didn't want to take it home (he was walking from the Commons to his house), and didn't want to have that award in the house with his teenage son. So, Tequila Bill, being a chivalrous guy accepted the award, so both Hairy Condom and Tequila Bill drunk from it, by putting the tube in their mouths while Dances was pouring liquid down the funnel!.

Then, ET awarded me the purple head award, for which I don't remember the reason right now.

And finally, while at the circle, ET gave birth to the hash baby award. He awarded the hash baby to Spike. Both Spike and the hash baby drunk for finally being in each others company.

Circle was then closed. Roadkill headed for the ABC cafe for some steamed cow intestines, and fried venison balls. WT headed home, Dances and I headed for the grocery store, and the rest of the gang headed to Benchwarmers' for some greasy food.

It was a great fun hash, and it was a beautiful day to be hashing. Thank you CC.

Hairy Condom Jr. will be setting next trail on Sunday, October 22.

See you then,

On-on PP

ReHash #494

Date: Mon, 23 Oct 2006 12:55:12 -0400

Hare: Hairy Condom, Jr.
Location: Stewart Park
Amount of beer drank: lost count
Rehash author: Lord Bürpenstain
Wankers present at the start of the hash: Little Oral Annie, Women There?, Butt Floss, Pippi, Cocksmith, Just Nadia, Spike, Nut Roper, Virgin Just Joel, Visitor Europee'n Whore, There might have been more of you, but your presence was registered in one of the brain cells that I lost during the hash.
Additional wankers seen before the day was done: Tequila Bill, Puker, Ball Wrinkle, Dances with Head
Big news revealed at the circle: read the damn rehash if you want to know, I'll write about what happened at the circle when we get the part about the circle. GOD! Kids today are so fucking lazy, they want every thing handed to them; they don't want to do any work for their rewards… Every thing is NOW! NOW! NOW! Go ahead, read, it'll do your pathetic ass some good…

As I ran toward the big bunch of wankers gathered around some flour on the pavement, I was chastised for having run to the hash. But this was alright with me, because I could take my punishment at the circle and not have to worry about driving home. Very shortly after my arrival, but not before WT saved me from being the BLAB, we were off checking trail. Around Stewart Park we went, with every single hound except for Pippi using some form of short cut within the first half mile. We then crossed a couple of foot bridges to go over by the golf course, past the shopping cart grave yard, past the TCAT bus barn, past the haunt, hey wait, they have beer there, why are we still running? Across another foot bridge on the bike path that goes to the farmers market. Jackpot! Beer Near! I opened up a PBR and began drinking. Europee'n Whore and LOA took turns draining their bladders in front of cyclists coming down the path. We discussed Sideshow Jesus, and the bad habits he has acquired since moving south, Hairy Condom, Jr. even mentioned the dreaded 'R word' during the conversation. We also notice that Nut Roper was wearing some sweet sox!

Then, after a little bit more public urination, we were off again following flour in hopes of more beer. The flour led along the bike path, past the farmers market, and soon, we were following railroad tracks that took us back to with a dozen yards of the BN we had just sloshilized at. As I went looking to see if there was still sufficient beer to use this beer near twice, Just Joel found trail leaving the vicinity of the beer near. Reluctantly, I followed him. The hash soon was divided, as Just Joel Crossed rt. 13 and came upon a check while the rest of the hash was waiting for a chance to cross rt. 13. Once the hash got across the street we scattered from the check, eventually determining that true trail went over to Cayuga st, and up toward the middle school, then under rt 13 next to fall creek, across the rail road tracks, into the woods, past many intersecting trails, and out the other side where we found the on-in. All of this with out any Y's or checks. It seems Hairy Condom, Jr. was running out of time when she set this leg of the trail. But that is OK I guess, since HC Jr. had such a big night last night (keep reading, damn it, I am not going to tell you here! I didn't find out until the circle, you have to wait too!).

As we stood around waiting for the hare (ya see, she had the keys to the car with the beer in it) we noticed that Tequila Bill's car was in the parking lot. As more hashers exited the woods and began to cross the field toward us (and the beer), we spotted TB, and Ball Wrinkle. We couldn't see BW's truck though… Soon BW had driven his truck over from a different part of the park, unloaded hash pooch puker, and we got around to starting a circle.

We punished our hare for having set shittily.
We punished her again for not taking off her hat.
Just Joel drank for being a virgin, Nut Roper made him cum.
EW drank for being a visitor.
Pippi drank for FRBing.
Pippi drank for being injured, and under medical advisement to not run, while front running.
Cums Latelys drank, there were several of us… (Nut Roper (we should have made him drink twice) WT, BW, Floss, LOA, Pippi, Cocksmith, Myself…)
I drank for having run to the hash.
I drank again because Hairy Condom, Jr. told everyone that I had gone to a competition in Cortland last Saturday.
Hairy Condom, Jr. drank again for having mentioned r*cing at the beer near.
I noticed something shiny on her finger, and demanded an explanation and that if ET had decided to pop the question, that she must drink.

It's true, Hairy Condom, Jr. and Extra Testicle got engaged Saturday evening. Hairy told us the story, while the hash peanut gallery (Pippi) chanted 'Faster, Funnier'. The proposal involved the Iron Kettle, a fake chicken (being choked?), an egg, and some missing panty hose. If you want all the details, ask Hairy (and congratulate her on her sufficient lowering of standards to say yes to ET). And Hairy herself learned that you should wear the engagement ring on the left hand, rather than the right.

There you go, that was your big news. Don't you feel much better having read this far to learn this? Isn't it so much more satisfying this way?

Pippi (complete with lisp and limp wrist) demanded that I do a 'metrosexual down-down' for having noticed the rock on Hairy Condom, Jr. I don't know how metro a down-down can be… But I drank anyway… I made Women There? Join me because he admitted to having noticed the rock before I did, but also noticing that it was on her right hand, and therefore not mentioning it. He protested, so we made him drink for whining.
Spike did a dry lips down-down.
TB was about to give the Hashit to LOA, but the hash convinced him to give it to me, since I would have to carry it home on foot. Thanks to PP and her swift, quality rehashing of the last I hash, I knew WT was in a similar predicament last week, and weaseled out of getting it due to not wanting to carry it on foot. It seems WT is better at weaseling than I am… I did receive the Hashit.

Since Hairy Condom, Jr. was still somewhat elated about her recent engagement (give her a couple more weeks, she'll realize what she has done), and the hash was among the shorter ones in recent memory, we headed over to the Fall Creek house for a couple of pitchers of on-after action. EW gave me a ride, since she didn't know how to get there, and I didn't bring a car. We sloshilized together at the creeker, and just as most of us were deciding it was time to move on, Dances with Head showed up. He was apparently too busy writing his thesis for hashing. We should give him some extra punishment at the next hash…

Speaking of the next hash… Who's our hare?

On-on,
Lord Büprenstain

ReHash #495

Date: Tue, 7 Nov 2006 15:19:23 -0500
Subject: Rehash number:495

_Rehash_form_27B_

Hash number:495

Rehash Author:
X_Lord Bürpenstain
__Other (write in) ________________

Hare(s):
__Dances with Head
__Lord Bürpenstain
__Country Cock
__Spike
__Pussy Pong
__Extra Testicle
__Ball Wrinkle
__Toothy Lunker
__Butt Floss
__Just Jessica
__Just Karen
__Little Oral Annie
__Cocksmith
__Trojan
__Tequilla Bill
__RoadKill
__Hot Lips
X_Virgin Hare(s) __Just_Joel____

Hounds:
__Dances with Head
X_Duke Bürpenstain
__Country Cock
__Spike
__Pussy Pong
X_Extra Testicle
X_Ball Wrinkle
__Bedside Pole Dancer
__UFO
X_Toothy Lunker
__Butt Floss
__Just Jessica
__Just Karen
__Little Oral Annie
__Cocksmith
__Trojan
__Tequilla Bill
X_Hot Lips
__Just Amanda
__RoadKill
X_Virgin(s) __Just_Nancy___Just_Steve___

Dogs:
__Just Mindy
__Pee's Like a Bitch
X_Puker
__Crazy Eyed Indy
X_Just Roxy
__Maxi Pad

Hash Location:
__Hammond Hill___________________
__Finger Lakes Nat. Forest_________________
__Fall Creek_________________
__Downtown Ithaca________________
__Cornell_______________
X_Danby State Forest___Corner_of_Bald_Hill_and_Comfort___
__Trumansburg________________
__Other_________________________

Trail:
X_Shitty

Trail Summary:
After a short wait to allow hounds who might have been delayed by a parade in Ithaca to get to the hash, the hash found true trail leaving the parking area with little difficulty, going off along comfort road. Lord Bürpenstain went left into the woods at the first Y to find 3 marks in rapid succesion going through a brier patch. Thinking that he was on true trail the Burp called back to other hounds to follow him into the dangerous surroundings. As the blood started to pour from his legs Lord B thought to himself that he should pay attention when the hares are wearing long pants, and not wear shorts on those hashes. As The sliced and diced pack picked it's way through the tangled prickly mess one of them stumbled upon the dreaded R7 (reverse 7, it is like a back check, but it was explained in the chalk talk that B is a sacred letter at this hash, and will only be used for BEER). That took us back out to the road, where we learned that Hot Lips had followed the other leg of the Y and was most likely half way to the first beer near at this point. Down the road some more and back into the woods we went, but this time with far fewer thorns. We covered quite a bit of ground off trail, moving in lines that seemed to be cardinal directions exclusively, ignoring the surrounding terrain. Eventually we came upon a check at the side of a dirt road. True trail was once again, not so much of a trail as it was a straight line into the woods and up a very steep hill, but then trail went along and old logging road and back out onto the road we had just been on and up to a popular hash start location that hasn't been used for over a year (bald hill and station). Scattering from the intersection, looking for true trail, the hash eventually decided it should be going along the less maintained portion of bald hill road.

Shortly (in the woods just off of the Abbott Loop) Beer near was found and there was much rejoicing. Unfortunately ET wasn't feeling too well, and had headed back to his truck before making it to the first Beer (perhaps the beer would have made him feel better?). Many random topics of conversation were covered during our liquid refreshment break, feral cats, Japanese television shows dubbed in English for comedic effect, the hilarity and time wasting potential of youtube.com.

After Ball wrinkle persuaded me to share a second beer with him (not like it was hard for him to do) the hash was off again, mostly following the Abbott loop trail, but taking small excursions onto side trails from time to time. As I exited the finger lakes trail going onto michigan hollow road, I saw that most wonderful of hash marks, BN, underfoot, so I started looking around for beer... I was still looking for beer when the DFLs arrived, this was horrible. Then Spike, who for some reason seems to be running at the back of the pack, and making sure people didn't get lost, and who has an amazing level of knowledge about this hash, a level usually associated with one who had set said trail, told us that the beer should be in a jeep, that isn't here yet. It seems the pack had beaten the Beer wagon. So we hung out, and despite our thirst had a pretty good time waiting for the beer. But then the beer got there, and life was even better, because the socialization was still good, but the thirst was being quenched. We also had a bunch of Japanese snacks, including wasabi peas, then there was also the non-sequitur snack of chips and salsa, which was also appreciated greatly...

Thirst quenched, salty snacks scarfed, the hash decided to continue the drinking at the on-in, but to do so, we would have to run the last leg of the trail. Some how spike knew that we needed to go back 7 or 8 marks to find the trail... So we did, and found trail going along the FLT. Then the FLT left the old logging road it had been following to continue on dryer, less muddy ground, but true trail did not, only false trail would go on dry ground for the rest of the hash. Up-up, up-up, up-up the muddy, and at times covered with standing water, trail we went, until it exited the woods within sight of the cars. Once the entire pack had gathered, the circle commenced.

Circle:
Hash officiant (RA):
__Butt Floss
__Dances with Head
X_Spike
x_Ball Wrinkle

Down-Downs:
X_Haring
 The guilty:  Just Joel (for some reason Spike drank too)
X_FRBing
 The guilty:  Hot Lips
X_DFLing
 The guilty:  Ball Wrinkle
X_Early arriving bastard
 The guilty:  Lord Bürpenstain
X_Late arriving bastard
 The guilty:  Toothy Lunker
__Racism:
 The guilty:
__Hash Crash
 The guilty:
X_Virgins
 The guilty:  Just Nancy, Just Steve
__Short cutting
 The guilty:
X_Cums Lately
 The guilty:   Hot Lips, Toothy
__Bobbit
 The guilty:
X_Other (explain)_mid-trail
       _false_accusation:_
       Bürpenstain_asked__
       BallWrinkle_if_he__
       had_short_cutted_at
       _one_point_________
       ___________________
 The guilty: Lord Bürpenstain
__Other (explain)__________
       ___________________
       ___________________
       ___________________
       ___________________
       ___________________
 The guilty:
__Other (explain)__________
       ___________________
       ___________________
       ___________________
       ___________________
       ___________________
 The guilty:
Other comments:

Award:
__Big Balls
 Source:
 Recipient:
__Bobbit
 Source:
 Recipient:
X_Hashit
 Source: Lord Bürpenstain
 Recipient:  Spike
X_Cums Lately
 Source: Hot Lips
 Recipient: Toothy Lunker
__FRB
 Source:
 Recipient:
__the“who said” head
 Source:
 Recipient:
__ET's 3rd ball
 Source:
 Recipient:
__Hash Baby
 Source:
 Recipient:

Other Comments: Cums lately is no longer George; George was repaired by ma' fingers and now just Drake is quite fond of him. Cums Lately is now a stuffed prize from a claw machine with“return to IH3” written on it.

Next Hash:
?

ReHash #496

Date: Tue, 21 Nov 2006 11:59:56 -0500
Subject: Re: Ithaca Hash #496

It’s a miserable day in the neighbourhood
A drizzly day in the neighbourhood
I think i’ll go hash with my neighbour
Howdy neighbour... got a beer?

Well... i hate to be the one to say “i told you something”, but i did tell you something. Bürp was up to his old diabolical trail-setting tricks this past Sunday, leading several hundred hash hounds on a torturous trail through the outback of Cornell.

I showed up in a cold snowy (but only the type of pseudo-snow that comes with Ithaca drizzle) B Lot, looking around for the start of the hash. I found no flour, but i did find Nut Roper and Just Joel experiencing a murky moment in one truck and Just Dan and his trusty dog Jackson experiencing a murky moment in another. I must have interrupted the delicate moment, because, as soon as i got out of my car, Just Joel hurried to put his pants on and Just Dan hurried to put the harness back on Jackson. Nut Roper just sat there smiling.

Then Just Diane showed up and everyone acted normal for a hash on a cold drizzly (but only the type of pseudo-drizzle that comes with freezing Ithaca rain) day.

Then we waited. And we waited. We waited for a hare: any hare, but after a few hours of acting normal, and after deciding that we were starting to get too cold, we decided to head out to look for flour on our own. Little did we know this was all planned by a devious hare. No sooner had Nut Roper called the first “ON ON” then our hare, the infamous Bürpenstain, appeared, bearing flour and a warning that we were heading in the wrong direction.

Then, without warning, a car swooped into B Lot, spitting forth Hot Lips before it tore away down the road. Apparently, Mrs. Lips was in a hurry. That or she didn’t want to be caught hanging around with the Ithaca Hash.

So, off the hash went again, this time with all six hundred hounds (plus or minus a few orders of magnitude). Through the campus, through the greenhouses, into the plantations, and around in circles through what would have been a flower garden had it not been for the cold rainy snowy Ithaca weather, the hashers hashed.

There was a Y followed by a T with an X that way but an O that way. We all knew there was a psi somewhere, but that X over there looked very shiggy, so we followed the T to an O to another Y. We took the Y to the T, hash style. Then we took the X to the T and carried the B out from behind a log, remembering to discharge some P in the bushes to keep the balance of the hash and mark our territory. Yeah... you smart ass little jogger in your fancy white r*** shirt: just keep runnin’ by.

Once were were all drunk and belligerent --well all execpt for Jackson, who seemed to be too delicate to drink real beer substitute, but not delicate enough forego nimbly eating a few greasy potato chips--, and had nothing better to do that watch a large bus, carrying what Hot Lips referred to as attractive older women, trying not to make the sharp corner on Forest Home, we stumbled off.

There was Beebe lake. There was Hot Lips running off on the excuse that his wife was going to perform a drive-by pickup and he had to be there. There was a very steep hill. Then there was a golf course and more beer. Ah... saved by the beer in the kitty-litter container. A chilly Hash Rest was enjoyed by all as we discussed Jackson’s obedience training, Nut Ropers biting habits, and the cure for antifreeze poisoning invented by Bürp’s dad.

Then it was down hill and through the woods on a trail that suspiciously looked like it had been r***d on. Through the woods and over the river (via a suspension bridge) we went, coming suddenly to the “On In”, conveniently placed no where near our cars on this cold an rainy day.

Eh, what the hell; we had substances resembling beer. We even had Icehouse in the bottle --pretty high class, if you ask someone other than me. We punished the hare for setting such a dry warm short trail (the diabolical deceptiveness of it all), we welcomed Just Diane, who started out as only half a virgin but was now fully corrupted by the hash, and we punished all those who ran too fast, ran too slow, showed up too early, showed up too late, or just looked too suspicious to be standing around in the cold, shivering with no beer-like substitute in their system.

Then Country Cock showed up, and we punished him for bobbiting the trail, even though he ran the entire thing and still was unable to catch up with us. Then we punished him again because he wore headgear into the circle.

No awards were given out, but we though of them sitting safely in our cars somewhere miles away.

Then the hash went in peace, and then there was hot sex, but that shouldn’t be mentioned here in case the censors are reading and some hasher is planning a political career.

--
Spike
Hash List Bitch

ReHash #497

Date: Wed, 06 Dec 2006 10:21:03 -0500
Subject: Rehash No. 497

Ithaca Hash run #497, at Monkey Run

Hares: Toothy, Little Oral Annie, and Just Dan
Virgins: Just Emily, Just Rennie
Others in attendance: Just Jessica, Just Bob, Butt Floss, Pussy Pong, Dances

With Head, Just Joel, Nut Roper, Ball Wrinkle, Cocksmith, Pippi

Schlongstocking, Extra Testicle, Harry Condom Jr, Spike,
Dogs: Puker, Mindy, Arlo, Max, *lost dog* (Katie?),
Bobbit: Burpenstain

Pulling into the parking lot for the Plantations Bar & Grill at a sharp

2:05pm, Pussy Pong and I found some of the early-arriving bastards milling

around on the ass-phault. With a shocked voice, I asked them why they were

standing outside when there was BEER inside?! Of course they didn't have a

good answer for this, so we went inside to drink a couple BEERs before trail.

Soon, others showed up, including Just Bob's infant daughter (and virgin

hasher) Just Emily, and virgin Just Rennie (sp?), the pint-glasses were empty,

and hashers started mumbling about “chalk-talk ” time. Toothy led us outside,

and gave a chalk-talk in the driveway, and we were off. We crossed the street, and headed for the bridge wher