Saturday, 11/17 found me on my way to Ass Rammer’s house to the 12th running of the Half Assed Hash. As we’ve already had the time change, it was dark when I arrived. About 20 people gathered in the backyard, cracking open our pretrail beers, while Anal Rose gave his traditional “cover everything so no one blames me later” chalk talk.

The hares put a check on the end of the driveway, and as I saw them running down the hill as I pulled up, I went that direction. At this point, I was FRB for approximately 5 minutes. It was an exhilarating feeling that will probably never happen again. I savored it though, and it was great while it lasted.

After the pack caught up to me (didn’t take long), and we tramped over a hill where we lost trail, we came to a road. I met up with Undercover Cock Rubber and we decided to circle around to Ass Rammer’s and get a head (who said head?) start on the beer. We watched the lights of other wankers disappear into the distance as we tried to give directions to Goes Down Syndrome.

We got back to the safety of the backyard and discovered that we were not the only ones half assing it. Our mighty HA RA was there, along with other lazy/infirm wankers. We had a rousing round of “Who has the nerdiest ringtone?” and Klinger managed to eat half a bottle of salsa before Ass Rammer’s phone rang. Splatterpussy called to let us know that she was freezing to death and find out where the pack was, as they had not reached the third beercheck. We talked to her until the FRBs (real ones this time) arrived.

Not much after that, Blows Trannies finished “reading” his Maxim magazine and rejoined the conversation, and the hares arrived. This was the last time we would see 5 Dildo Discount sober for a long time.

Circle was a raucous affair, with Salad Shooter stepping up as impromptu songmeister and being amazing at it. We had virgins, we had songs, and we had the Flo D Stuntman award. I’m mentioning it this time, because someone actually did something to earn it. Earlier in the evening, 5DD in his inebriated state, mistook the spotlessly clean sliding glass door for being open intead of closed and crashed into it. This lead to red tape being applied to the door and his forehead; it also lead to him being the Stuntman of the Month! Lesson Learned? Ass Rammer needs to cool it with the Windex, hashers aren’t used to clean windows.

As the hour grew later, the crowd dwindled and my night would up with a youtube singalong on the patio. All in all a good night.

Oh, and Orca Hole Lick: I’m sorry about punching you in the face. Next time I see you, I’ll buy ya a beer!

On on to Covering a Beaver!
~Here to Get Laid

Up Cumming events:
Vegas RDR 11/30
SDH3/Larrikins Holiday shindig 12/15
Humpin’ New Year’s Eve 12/31 (duh.)

… The Half Assed Hash is always a good time!

My day began at 8am with a phone call from Anal Rose. I was recruited into being the impromptu hash flash. (The pictures are already up on Beercheck.)

It was a rainy morning as I headed, bleary eyed, down to Ocean Beach. I entered the beer garden and saw some familiar faces, paid my run fee and tried to prelube. Undercover Cock Rubber, Goes Down Syndrome and I spied a table with a sign proclaiming “Mixed Drinks” and we were drawn to it. We were informed that the earliest we could get a drink would be 10 o’clock. Thus began the countdown. Undercover Cock Rubber set an alarm on her watch and at 9:59am we were back at the mixed drinks table only to be told that we couldn’t have any alcohol until after the run. Silly mortals, prelubing is the best!

The costumes were great, especially Son of a Nun Fucker’s inflatable barmaid getup. Splatterpussy, Litter Box, and Salad Shooter looked adorable as beer girls and Anal Rose rocked the lederhosen.

There were a lot of virgins, most of which looked puzzled as Gorilla Whorefare led chalk talk. As we started Father Abraham, led by Litter Box and Splatterpussy, they seemed to loosen up. Once the pack was away, they seemed in their element, for the most part.

The trail was a quick up and back along the beach and through the parking lot. We were limited in our trail laying due to the fact that this was a public event, not really a hash. It was a “fun run” sponsored by the hash. Really, it was a public relations and recruiting day, and a success at that. There was a special drink check, for hashers only, that had jello shots and since turnout was limited because of the rain, we had jello shots all day!  

The virgins outnumbered the hashers and most seemed to be having fun. The circle was short, because the band was warming up. There were plenty of spectators and lots of beer. We got our 2 drink tickets as we came in from the run and we’d all redeemed at least one.

After circle, we had live music provided by Jose Sinatra. He does song parodies, but I’m unsure that most of the crowd got that. We were just about the only ones in the beer garden and had the dance floor to ourselves. Splatterpussy and Salad Shooter put on quite a show, while A.S.S.S. danced with an innocent bystander. The Village Tool cut a rug with Semen Biscuit and Gorilla Whorefare danced all by himself. Once we realized that if we wanted more drinks they’d be 5 bucks each, we hatched a plan.

A bit after noon, we left on a pubcrawl through OB. We started at Sunshine Company, an open air bar, where we could get rained on while we got drunk. After pitchers all around we decided to move along. On the way to the next bar, we came across the Red Bull girls and scored some free product. We took over Winston’s and sang hash songs until we ran out of verses. As we were leaving, All Roads Lead to Anal ran by me with something big and orange in her arms. She had stolen the inflatable pumpkin from the bar. I never did figure out what happened to it after that, and I never saw it again. The last bar we went to could have doubled for a cave. I couldn’t see anything and the black light didn’t help at all.

Then, as we all realized that the establishment wasn’t the friendliest, Royal and Chick Clit had a glorious idea. “Let’s just go get some beer and drink on the beach!” So, that’s what we did. Anal Rose hared a trail, (well, he walked 10 feet in front of us and dropped flour, that counts, right?) and we had the 2nd circle of the day on the beach. The circle was drowned out quickly by the music and noise from the beer garden (which was rockin’ by this point) so we ended it and sat around drinking beer instead. We had a quick game of full contact duck duck goose and a dogpile in the middle of the circle.

At some point, we though it’d be a good idea to reprise our pubcrawl and started over at Sunshine Company. After narrowly being let in, (Anal Rose was provoking the bouncer, never a good idea) we left after 10 minutes. It was packed, body to body, so we headed down to Tony’s. That’s where I called it a day. I’d run, been drunk and sobered up– all by 6 in the evening!

That was one of the most fun hashing days I’d had in a good long while. The HAH3 has done it again!

On-on!
Here to Get Laid

Writing this feels like a marathon! It’s taken me 3 days to want to think about hashing again, much less want to relive the Hashathon. There was so much to pack in to one writeup that I’m still a little overwhelmed.

First of all, for the record, this will not be a trail writeup, as I didn’t run a single trail. There was a reason for this: I was driving the Beer Wagon.  So, instead of detailing the trevails of the runners, this is going to be more of a “behind the scenes” view of what has to happen to put on an event. I had never been in a big support role before, so it was interesting for me to see as well. Trust me folks, while everything appeared to run smoothly, someone (me) was in the background somewhere having a mild coronary. The only law hashers don’t break on a regular basis is Murphy’s.

At 8:30am the hashers who weren’t prelubing the night before began to gather, while those who were out all night showed up closer to 9:15. Pixy even showed up in the same clothes she had worn to The Alley the night before. As the pack was warming up with bloody marys, mimosas and of course beer, the weather started to take a turn for the wet. The pack was away amidst some sprinkles and my behind the scenes career began. We figured out the map and directions to the end, thanks to Cum Fuck Me and headed that way in a 4 car caravan lead by Kravin’ Kimchi Koochie. The moment we arrived at a cul de sac bordering the park, the skies opened up and unleashed the heaviest downpour I’ve seen in a long time. Of course, we all cowered in the cars and decided that instead of unloading we should get some breakfast.  

When we did start unloading, moments before the FRBs showed up, we discovered that of the 4 kegs in the back of the Beer Wagon, 2 were empty. We got set up just in time for the pack to roll in. Our great hash snacks couple Slippery Log and Iceboxx broke out a lovely breakfast spread that made me wish I hadn’t already eaten. Down Set Dyke and Salad Shooter then put on a mini fashion show when they changed into their second matching outfits of the day. (They did this all day with a new outfit for each trail, it was super cute.)

When circle started, it was immediately declared a “No Repeat Sunday” (as they all are in the reign of Weed Whacker and Captain Jerk) and after all of the normal visitor and virgin down downs, we had a naming! Yes, after our very first run of the day, it was time to name Just Mike and bring him officially into our fold. We sent him and our only other no name (Just Lucas) away and started “half-mind”storming. Finally, after much deliberation and even more yay-ing, we settled upon the winner: Shitsicle. We broke him in with a shower of beer and flour (and some orange juice, courtesy of Royal Flush), and made him into a stinky, smelly, sticky mess for the rest of the day. Trust me, life for him gets worse than that later….

As  the hares went away for the 2nd run, over a rather dangerous looking fence the weather began to warm up. This didn’t last long. After the pack was away and Afterbirth and I drove to Ass Transit’s place to pick up lunch for the pack we saw 6 waterspouts along the coast. It was really remarkable. The 2nd On-in was rockin’. Sucking Seabiscuit set up a  sound system and played DJ while we had an excellent lunch, catered by Nookie Monster. The location was beautiful, there were tables and our very own pond (that Howdy Do Me nearly ended up in…if you have to ask…). The only downside was the abundance of flies. I also became the official direction giver to all of the lost and late wankers and missed a lot of circle. The parts I got to see involved Just Lucas being the drunkest bookend I’ve ever seen and our founder, Sex Cadet strolling in halfway through as DFL.

After the hares departed for the 3rd run and we started loading the kegs and leftovers into the trucks, we realized we were out of beer. At this time Jalapenis, Put a Dick In It and Sponge saved the hash. They went to Encinitas and came back with enough to last the rest of the day. True superheroes if you ask me. 

As the pack was away on the 3rd run, I took the leftovers back to Ass Transit’s place and ran into her and Lawrence of No Labia who had tried the 2nd run and not finished. I also had a couple of hash related errands to do (putting gas in the Beer Wagon, updating the map at the start, transporting drunks). I was joined on this leg in the Beer Wagon by 2 Fisted Hose Master, Chick Clit and Royal Flush who elected to ride in the bed of the truck with the food. They were a touch too intoxicated to do the run and made great navigators.

We got a bit lost and had to call Afterbirth and Kimchi for directions and finally made it to the 3rd On-in. It was then that I noticed Shitsicle’s condition. Appearently he fell, face first on some rocks. He had some minor facial lacerations, but was in good spirits. I offered, mulitiple times, to take him to the hospital, but it true Humpin’ fashion he said he wanted to finish what he started and do the last trail. Obviously, this called for a renaming. On the spot he became Eat Shitsicle.  This circle was a bit shorter than the others, and with good reason. Everyone was getting tired and just wanted to get on with the last trail.

Once the pack took off on the 4th run, I made a beeline to Ass Transit’s house to work on picking up dinner. I started loading the truck while Splatterpussy reheated the potatoes and Ass Transit made the pasta. Once we got everything put together and in the truck and Flotation Devices’ car, we made our way to the end, where the pack was waiting for us. We set dinner up and  I finally got to have a beer. There was one snag in my plan, however, and that was the fact that my mug was missing. I searched high and low, I tore the truck apart, I was starting to get very upset and accuse people of taking my mug when Ass Rammer noticed me fuming. He also noticed Splatterpussy roaming around looking for her mug that she had filled with beer and set down. He told her to check the truck, and she found her mug, empty, and was puzzled as to who dumped out her beer and put her mug there. Ass Rammer then pointed me to my mug, full of beer and sitting on a bench unattended. Turned out we had unknowingly switched mugs. I gave her the beer back and got my own. It was probably the best beer ever, because I worked so hard all day for it.

At some point during dinner, an announcement came over our sound system, “Whoever took the hash cash fanny pack please return it.” The next announcement came about 15 mintues later, “Look, it’s not funny. Please return the hash cash. This is not a funny joke, this is not a good prank, just return the hash cash.” Followed by, “That’s it, we’re going to resort to cavity searches!” About 2 minutes later “Nevermind, false alarm everyone, we found it in Dr. Zaius’ car, right where he left it.”

Circle went until 9:30, with perma-bookend Kimchi. At some point, Wax My Ass was called up as a hash attorney, and his client won, mostly because Wax didn’t have time to say anything. The hash shit went to Boner Malfunction of Chicago for some reason or another, and was quickly passed to Kimchi for running over Nookie on his way to the booze.

After circle, a few of us stood around singing hash songs for first timers and Kimchi hopped up on the portable table. Luckily someone talked him down before it collapsed and as we were getting everyone and everything loaded into vehicles the police showed up. Usually, when the cops show, we send someone to talk to them while we all scurry away. Turns out, no one called them, they just showed up to lock up the park. They had no problem with us! It was a refreshing change.

I skipped the On-after and slept for a day and a half following Hashathon. I was drained. I’m glad we only do this once a year.

Upcumming Traveling Events:
10/19-21 Parker Campout
10/26-28 Hash de Tucson
11/30        Las Vegas RDR
Jan 08     Humpin’ takes LA

On-on,
Here to Get Laid

First and foremost, right at the top, I want to give kudos to Splatterpussy for stepping in and pinch hitting as beermeister. All hail the beermeister, for without her we are sober!  I also think it worth mentioning that we were witnessing the deflowering of 2 virgin hares: Howdy Do Me and Witch Fucker.

After we set the hares away, we had a lot of business to attend to. Mainly our virgins, but I’ll get to them later. After a doubletime version of “Father Abraham” we were on our way.

We were on pavement for a long time, for a Humpin’ trail anyway, then we came to a rather interesting check. There was a check on the left side of the road and a tunnel into the muck on the right. Of course, Dr. Dive ran straight for the tunnel, as he has a “mole sense”, and he was right. A few people followed him on the low road, which led to waist deep muck, and a lot of us took the high road over an 8 foot tall, chain link fence. I missed the foothold and landed on my bottom after an 8 foot drop. I laughed it off and carried on like a champ, if I do say so myself.

We stayed to the path until taking a sharp left into the shiggy. About 50 yards in, I’m pretty sure I found a dead body. I saw the toe of a shoe sticking up out of a mound of brush and debris but I was too creeped out to investigate further. Well, that and I really didn’t want to be left behind, lest I join the dead guy’s ranks. At some point, we crossed a property line and were turned away by a man with a shotgun. That’s where this trail began to fall apart. We walked down every conceivable path (where the probability of death by farmer was less than 50%) and found no sign of trail, and decided that it would be better to go back to start. 

We emerged on Avenida del Diablo, and noted how appropriate it was that we were on the “Avenue of the Devil” and realized we were lost. At this moment, Pixy and Just Peppi ran by us and Pixy said she had a hunch. That was the last time we saw her for over 2 hours. Just Wes had brought his iPhone on trail and figured out where we were, and where we needed to go in a jiffy. Which, coincidentally enough is the same amount of time it took Village Tool to run up ahead and find the beginning of the trail again.

 We went back to the start, shortcutting all the way. We jumped the brick wall and made it back to our cars. The next challenge was deciphering the hieroglyphics that made up the map to the end. 

The end was very secluded, in the back of a corporate parking lot. We had music (as provided by Sucking Seabiscuit), great food as always (that potato salad is amazing!), thanks to our hash snacks Ice Boxxx and Slippery Log, and a great circle thanks to our RA Weed Whacker. Circle was short for a Humpin’ (we were done by 7).

A few things about circle: Our hash shit was left in someone’s car by 2 Fisted Hose Master. It was passed (in spirit, I guess), to Sucking Seabiscuit who also got the FRB mug (in spirit as well). The FRB mug just happens to be residing in Gorilla Whorefare’s car, and will do so until the car is released from impound in about 2 weeks.

Our virgins were called up for their song/joke/body part, and we were treated to about 7 hash shit demonstrations in the first 10 minutes of circle. Just Wes got his “Tech on trail” down down and Go Play in Traffic got a down down that had something to do with her underpants.

Visiting hasher Bunny Snatch brought a new tradition to the Humpin’: Bookends. Chosen folks who stand on either side of hashers called up for down downs who drink along with them. No one drinks alone! 

Not even a shotgun can ruin our fun.

On on to Hashathon!
~Here to Get Laid

It was a warm Saturday afternoon, nearing dusk… I was enjoying that magic hour of calm as I drove down the 5 to the Half Assed Hash, when I noticed that the exit I was supposed to take, according to my printed out runstart info, did not exist. It’s never a good omen when you are lost before the hash even starts.

When I did make it to the parking lot (aided by the human GPS that is Litter Box) I immediately noticed that All Roads Lead to Anal was covered in flour. I was suspicious at this point of something that she would confirm later. Anal Rose then led the most comprehensive chalk talk that I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing. He explained marks I’ve never seen before and will probably never see again. I’m pretty sure he even made a few up on the spot.

We ran through Balboa Park and the cactus sanctuary, (really? do cacti need protecting? I thought that was what the spines were for.) And after being on trail for no more than 15 minutes we came across beercheck #1.  

As darkness fell, the pack became increasingly lost. We came across a check marked “SDH3″, and that only made matters worse. There was a wedding going on in this part of the park, so I’m sure it was not appreciated when I yelled “Anal!” to let him know we had found true trail.

 Now, I thought that “Half Assed” trails were supposed to be no longer than 3 and a half miles, and I can’t be sure about this one because we spent so much time lost, but I think it was pretty close to being over. One thing I did learn about night hashing, and I’m sure this will prove valuable this winter, is that marks are really hard to see in the dark. 

Once we made it to the On-In (which we found out later was supposed to be the third beercheck, but the trail was truncated), I spoke with All Roads Lead to Anal and my earlier suspicions of prelay were confirmed. “I only laid an SDH3 check because I prelaid it!” was her excuse. As we all milled about, indulging in the amazing food and swapping trail stories, I overheard a particularly enthalling tale of a hobbo with a baseball bat. (Hobbo is a new word, coined by Anal Rose. We’re pretty sure it just means hobo, but for the spelling challenged.)

I was assigned as beer wench and did my best to keep mugs full. We had entertainment provided by visiting hasher Boob Cozy, I witnessed a butt chug, and a new mismanagement position was announced. Splatterpussy is the new Half Assed RA, and in true half assed fashion, couldn’t be bothered to show up!

All in all the HAH3 was an enjoyable experience with great people, awesome food and a fun circle. It’s sort of a shame that it only runs once a month. You better believe I’ll be there next month!

Also, Upcumming events:
9/22 Humpin’ Hashathon 
10/26-28 Hash de Tucson
11/30 Vegas RDR

On on
~Here to Get Laid 

I’ve noticed something. No one really talks about the hash shit, for fear of getting it. I see the hash shit as both a good and bad thing.

Yes, the hash shit means you did something stupid. It also means that people noticed you doing something stupid. Futhermore, it means that, in a way, you are accepted into the group. Yes, it’s heavy, it’s burdensome and you are the object of ridicule. You will end up drunk from repeated hash shit demonstrations. You will be laughed at at every opportunity. However, it makes you realize, these are your friends and they know that you can take a joke. Notice that the hash shit never goes to someone who will get honestly upset about it. It never goes to anyone that takes themselves far too seriously (not that there are many of these in the hash, but there are a few). It always goes to someone that can laugh at him/herself and will make jokes at their own expense.

Well, as we all know, a down down is a privilege not a punishment, could something similar be said for the hash shit? Interestingly enough, I got the hash shit because I didn’t want to look at Anal Rose’s balls. I don’t think that was “doing something stupid” and I sort of saw the nomination as endearing. Almost affectionate really.

No. The hash shit is definitely not a privilege, generally speaking. –However, the interesting thing about the hash shit is that it is sort of like Voldemort. No one dares speak of it. Merely because expressing an opinion on the subject is tantamount to saying that you’d like it. If you say you want it– you get it, if you say you don’t want it — you get it.  

The enigma that is the hash shit can’t really be explained. If you have to ask….

You don’t know!

On on to contemplating the meaning of…ah screw it, on on to more beer!
~Here to Get Laid

What to say about the Humpin’ Toga run?

The early runstart of high noon was a help and a hinderance. Most of us aren’t used to being mobile that early on a Sunday, but it was nice to have an extra 2 hours of debauchery.

I arrived at the runstart and noticed police presence right away. After 20 uneventful yet tense minutes we won the battle of wills (i.e. we didn’t do anything illegal and he got tired of waiting) and he left. Then the party really started.

After assembling everyone’s togas and making sure that all sheets were secure, the pack set off. I was driving the B Van, but instead of going directly to the end and waiting, I wanted to enjoy the checks too (in a completely non alcoholic way, I assure you.). So, I took a navigator, Casanada, and we were to drive from check to check in a caravan with the beerwagon. This was the plan anyway… Somewhere in the block and a half between the runstart and the first beercheck, Big Bird’s Spunk Rag managed to get lost.

After about 6 phone calls, each more frustrating than the last, the beerwagon showed up. The pack enjoyed games and songs while they waited and everyone was still in good spirits.

There were many beerchecks, more songs and really great times in togas. There was even a wine and cheese check!

The on in was at Jello Shooter park (does anyone know what that park is actually called?) And it was a doozy. We had hamburgers and hot dogs with all the fixins, thanks to our hash snacks couple Ice Boxx and Slippery Log. I ended up with the hash shit for about 5 minutes (see my next blog for my thoughts on the hash shit) for not wanting to gaze at the glory (appearently) that is Anal Rose’s scrotum. I wasn’t aware his testicles had such a following. Go figure. (Although I noticed that his wife was not cheering about the beauty of his ballsack, interesting.) There was also a toga contest, won by Slippery Log for the men and tied between Down Set Dyke and Flotation Devices for the women. We tried all tiebreakers known to hash kind: a yay off, a boob off, a chug off and rock paper scissors. All of those competitions came up even!

As the sun went down and the mosquitos arrived the hash adjourned to the Mas Fina Cantina for the On On On, then to a karaoke bar down the street for the On On On On. If you have to ask….

 Also, if anyone is thinking about attending the Hash de Tucson October 26-28th, let me know.

On on to Hashathon 9/22!
~Here to Get Laid

This hash took place on arguably the hottest day San Diego has seen in 20 years.

Today, my pal Rayna made it out to her first hash! This was both a good and a bad thing. She was paired with SwallowBitzch as a trail buddy, and that’s when her troubles began.

As we set off down the street, we came to the first check. The check was solved within a few minutes and all of us who were checking the other direction came back. I yelled to Swallow and Just Rayna, but at that moment, the B van went their direction and Swallow convinced her that he knew what he was doing. That was the last time I saw her for 3 hours.

One of the many highlights of this trail was the fake out hare snare. Two Fisted Hose Master had finished haring his portion of the trail and saw the pack coming around the bend. Then, to buy his cohares some time, he grabbed his bag of flour and ran out of the bushes just in time to distract and confuse the pack.

Next was a jaunt over some hills to the beercheck. At this point, I hung back with EZ Payout, Stalemate and Hole in One. We went up on a ridge almost directly above the 5. The view was actually sort of frightening. We decended into a small canyon and found the tunnel we’d been warned about. This one was not merely a hare lie. It was quite a long one as it went under the freeway, with a standup break halfway through. (It was a manhole in the middle of the I-5 median. Not a good place to pop up.) After duckwalking the 100 yards to the other side we met up with Chick Clit who was manning the 2nd beercheck, and Weed Whacker who was still “checking”. While we were hydrating we heard another voice in the tunnel, turned out McPisser (a visiting hasher) had gotten incredibly lost and just found true trail again. With that, we set off and at some point he left us behind and we all stumbled along. We followed trail onto the lagoon pathway, where it stopped, dead.

At this time, I’d like to aknowledge AssHopper as my favorite hasher of the day for marking the place up with pack arrows. Without him, we’d probably still be wandering around San Elijo Lagoon. Once we made it to the cliff overlooking the train tracks, the road and beyond that, the beach, we were faced with another problem– How to get down there and not die.

We followed the path that a local pointed out (thanks, old dude!) and ran across the railroad tracks. At this point, Weed yells “Train!” and I try to scurry into the underbrush and put as much distance between myself and the tracks as humanly possible. Well, I was seen– The conductor (engineer? driver? guy that makes the train go? Whatever that person is called) sounded the horn. I pissed my pants. That’s right, I’ll admit it, I pissed my pants. After that harrowing ordeal, we realized that the only way up to the road was to do a little “Humpin’ rock climbing”, essentially scaling the side of a canal.

After all that, the rest was a piece of cake. South along the road for a ways, then descending some stairs. We ended on the beach, it was awesome. Just before circle I finally got a hold of Just Rayna and Swallow. Turns out they had to catch a taxi back to the start and GI Ho gave them directions to the end. They arrived during the circle and Just Rayna filled us in on her day of adventure and mystery. Swallow got the hash shit on the spot. We had a relatively short circle (short for Humpin’ anyway) and watched the sunset before packing it in and heading to the on after.

The on after was only a few people and we all had a pretty decent time. Some better than others, but you’d have to ask them about it.

On on to the Toga Run this Sunday!
~Here to Get Laid 

Friday, Grassy Ass and I set off for Arizona. We left here at around 11 am and drove to Tucson to meet up with Papa Don’t Peek and R U My Daddy?, this is where the drinking began.

We went to a brewery for snacks (any place with brewery in the name is fine by me) and beer. Then it was off to Bisbee. After dropping our stuff in the rooms (which were wonderful, by the way. If you’re ever in Bisbee, I highly recommend the El Dorado.), it was on out to a lingerie pub crawl. As I looked around this small town on the way in, I honestly didn’t think there were that many bars, boy was I wrong! We must have hit every single one, and it was an amazing time! Seeing all of the hashers in their lacy best was really awesome. We even encountered 2 real transvestites! They gave us their seal of approval and everything. Grassy and I were the only 2 San Diego hashers to make it out. Those Arizona folks sure do know how to party! The pubcrawl ended up in a karaoke bar and we stayed until it closed down.

The next morning, we were up bright and early (not my choice, I assure you) and had a lovely breakfast consisting of random food items covered in gravy. After that, it was time for a nap. I collapsed in the room and had a blissful snooze until the wake up crew showed up. At 2 pm, Sextortionist and 2×4 decided that we all needed to get ready.

For the next hour or so, I wandered between hotel rooms putting on pieces of my outfit as I went. R U My Daddy? did my make up and it was  stellar. I was like a disco ball, with legs.

We walked the whole trail, and it was a doozy. We went down stairs (in that town, it’d be impossible to avoid them), up hills and past a junior miss pageant. We decided that the beercheck was too far so we stopped at Executive Spread’s hotel for an impromptu beercheck. Once we ran out of those, we asked some locals that were in their front yard if we could have some beer. Luckily, they obliged and gave us a few more beers to last us until the first real beercheck.

That was at the top of a hill. It seemed like 800 stairs. I feel as though I can climb the Mayan pyramids after that! I will say that these folks know how to put on a beercheck. Ice cold beer, water and I think I even spied a soda or 2.

After that, it seemed like no time at all until the next beercheck, at Candy Ass’s house. Executive Spread became my favorite hasher of the day when she provided me with new batteries after my camera died. That gal is awesome! We then headed down to the VFW and tried to hide our faces. The previous evening, one of our number, Abu Grab Me, had a tad too much and redecorated the floor of that particular venue. They seemed to forgive us and we had a blast. Grassy Ass was in awe of the fact that The Lady in Red brought out Thai food for the occasion. The dinner was really amazing. I don’t usually go for Thai, but this was fantastic.

After the event was officially over, we all ended up at a bar. Luckily, mostly all of Bisbee was within stumbling distance of our hotel. All we had to do was crawl up the stairs and we were home. This night seemed to last forever. In true hasher style, we kept the hares for the next days hash up until 3.

Sunday, we were supposed to go to the hangover hash in Tombstone, but we didn’t get up in time (big suprise). We did, however, meet up with the rest of the hashers for an impromptu pubcrawl in Tombstone. This isn’t particularly difficult, as there are only 4 bars in town. We went back to Tucson and finished our pubcrawl at Gentle Ben’s. I’m not exactly sure how many Raspberry Ales I had, but it was enough.

Monday, we headed down to Nogales, Mexico for yet another pubcrawl. We started out with fishbowl margaritas and ended by getting kicked out of a Mexican bar. I wasn’t sure that was possible, but sure enough, some guy called us “assholes” and told us to leave. After we stumbled back across the border, Executive Spread dropped us off at Zachary’s, a pizza place with a 10% alcohol beer. I was finished drinking by this point (tequila does me in) and did not partake. Grassy nursed his for the entire time we were there, and I think I saw Papa put ice in his to dilute it. Cockjaw picked us up and took us back to Papa’s place, where the night ended pretty early. Everyone was passed out by 11.

Tuesday, Grassy and I headed home. It was an eventful journey and my liver will never be the same.

On on to shopping for a new liver.
~Here to Get Laid

Thursday, I went to the Volleyball hash. There’s no trail, just some hashers, a keg, sometimes there’s a circle and down-downs, and there is an on-after. It was there that my weekend began.

I wasn’t going to go to the Larrikin Campout. I had made up my mind and not registered in time. I let it get to “Sold out” as an excuse. Then the peer pressure started. Once I found out not only that most of my Humpin’ pals would be there but that they wanted me to be there, I couldn’t resist.

Even I’m sick of the story of my Friday, so here’s the quick rundown: scouting, buzzzz, phone calls, ER, Padii, Benadryl, meteor shower, up til 6 am.

Saturday I was passed out by noon. My breakfast consisted of two glasses of wine and a bowl of cheerios. I spent a considerable amount of time in the pool and woke up in a tent cuddled up with Inflatable Sally. The rest of the day is a blur of slip and slides and flooded campsites. One thing I learned was that if you don’t go to the party, hashers will bring the party to you. I also learned that just because you are at a Larrikin campout doesn’t mean you can’t integrate Humpin’ traditions. We open seasoned Gorrilla Whorefare, he put up a struggle so he got the business end of a roll of duct tape. This was the first open season that I witnessed in person, I’d seen pictures of some and one on youtube, but it really doesn’t compare. The smell is something that just can’t be captured in words, photos or video. It smelled like a clam bake in Hell, to put it lightly.

Sunday we (Jalapenis, Padii and myself) had to leave early to get to Humpin’. We have our priorities straight. The only sad part was that we missed the debacle that was Grassy Ass.

At Humpin’, I was supposed to hare, but ended up in a different support role. I helped the beermeister (all hail!), and gave rides to start. I was also the designated driver for Padii and Jalapenis.

Humpin’ had many highlights, not least of which were: the song off by Jalapenis and Anal Rose (newly elected Larrikins RA) which ended in Anal Rose conceding after one song by Jalapenis, the camera of 1000 boobies, and the second open season in as many days. Put a Dick in it is moving to Northridge and had to be taught that you never leave the Humpin’ Hash.

Open seasons are like black holes, if you get too close, you will be sucked in. Thats how I ended up with mayo and mustard in my ear. I was covered in so much of the aftermath that I was retching.

After showers all around, we showed up at the On-After as everyone was leaving. We sang some hash songs at the top of our lungs, and I persuaded the waitress not to call the police. I herded my drunk friends out of the family restaurant and took them home.

Honestly, that isn’t the end of my Epic Hash Weekend, but it’s really all I feel like sharing

On-on to Bisbee!
~Here to Get Laid