Hares: Anything Goes, Hummer Gay’mes
Hounds: CP, NBA, Dip, Anus, Puff, Tina, PBR, Kibbles, Poopy the Fruit Dick Slayer
At the onset of trail, a rather significant amount of lightening and rain decided to invade Wichita. As a result, the pussy hounds called the hares and begged them to cum back and cut the hash short. The hares reluctantly agreed, and returned to the Shamrock. However, since trail was laid and briefly followed, a circle was necessary, so we left the Shamrock and gathered at the intended ONIN, Hummer Gay’mes house.
Hares laid a faux-trail that could be followed and bitched about, and a fun, yet uneventful circle ensued in the garage. After circle, we began the process of naming nnSarah. Her husband, Cumbag Shitpants, had already sent an email from his location in Denmark describing some of her more entertaining moments. She had plenty to add to them as well. With a combination of information from the two of them, we came up with the name “Poopy the Fruit Dick Slayer”, with “Victoria’s Secretions” coming in a close 2nd, and being withheld for another opportunity.
It was a good hash and a good time. ONON!
Hare: Tequila Tony
Hounds: Dip, PeePee, PQuad, Tina, Anything Goes, Power Bottom Redding, Born On Your Anus, NBA, nnSarah, nnTim
This trail could be called so many things, e.g., The Trail of Seven Water Crossings; The Flour Fawn Abuse Trail; The Trail of Tears and Ticks; Poison Ivy Paradise Trail. Combine the essence of all those titles, and you get the gist of this classic Tequila Tony trail. All we were lacking was the Georgia alligators that Tequila is so fond of. We knew we were in trouble when Tequila showed up at the start after stashing the first beer near, dripping wet up to his pits, and claiming it was just sweat. The second indication we were doomed was when TT stated that his main goal for this trail was to lead us into shiggy. He was more than successful.
We discovered that TT does not like the nice little concrete paths or even the tiny deer trails that are plentiful in this park. No, he, instead, likes the tall tick-infested grasses and poison ivy-laden non-trails. He took us through endless non-trails before we found our first water crossing. We knew TT had stashed the first beer-near on the other side of this water crossing so there was no getting around our first swim. We all managed to get to the other side, stirring up the lovely aromas of rotting river sludge, and then climbed up the muddy side to the golden nectar. After enjoying our beverages we took off through more shiggy, and barely missed stepping on a precious sleeping fawn that TT had diabolically thrown flour on.
Evidently, TT likes zig-zag patterns because he employed them continuously, taking trail back and forth across the river. It turned out that if we wanted to find the second beer near, we had to follow the trail back and forth across the muddy creek and up the muddy river banks. We found the second beer near at the mouth of a drainage pipe (the mile-long one most of us refused to attempt on the last TT trail). This time our hare left us enough flashlights to allow even the most timid hounds to follow trail through the pipe to find trail not too far from the on-in.
On-in was in TT's backyard, where he graciously supplied us with bags of ice upon which to enjoy our down-downs. Dip was on his usual roll of false accusations of innocent hounds. Fortunately, it only provided the pack with opportunities to quench our thirsts. TT provided us with pizza and wings after the swing-low. We had nnTim, a virgin, join us, and he did not seem to be intimidated by our awesomeness, and should be back. The only thing we were not able to do was to begin the naming process for nnSarah, but for that we really need the input of Cumbag Shitpants. On on!
Hares: PBR, Pee Pee Licker
Hounds: NBA, Dip, Kibbles, Extenze, nnAlex, Tequila Tony, Ass, nnIPA John, Anything Goes, nnTambra, nnEloise
Hounds gathered at Pee Pee’s house for what was all but assured to be a shitty trail. Our hares had multiple things working against them from the start: no shiggy, BN at a bar, very little experience, etc… So, with that in mind, there wasn't much room for us to be surprisingly disappointed.
Trail initially led us to the west across Oliver and then to the south, where we found our BN at Mike’s Wine Dive. Dip felt that they couldn't possibly have cheap enough beer to merit a visit by hashers, but we were all pleasantly surprised when we discovered that they had $2 Blue Moon pints.
After leaving the restaurant, the pack headed back to the NE, where they stumbled upon an odd marking that not only wasn't covered in chalk talk, but also made absolutely no sense. NBA, fearing the worst, began to weep uncontrollably. It was only after we slapped her around a little that she calmed down and explained to us that she assumed that PBR must have been struck by a car, causing him to violently convulse in the street with his chalk clutched tightly in his hand, leaving random marks against the asphalt as his arms flailed uncontrollably while his collapsed lungs unsuccessfully begged for air. However, there was no body, so we held out hope that there was some other explanation for the nonsensical marks left behind.
We were all relieved to find trail a bit further away, which led us back to Pee Pee’s. We circled up in her un-kept back yar where Dip was forced to drink out of his brand new shoes, and then most of us headed to Harry’s Uptown for the on-after.
All in all, the novice hares did a pretty damn good job and should be commended for mostly using marks that we were able to understand.
Hares: BP and Dip
Hounds: PeePee, Tina, PBR, NBA, Anything Goes, Tequila Tony, On Her Knees, Forrest Gimp, nnSarah, nnMike, nnIPAJohn, nnTambra, Hummer Gay'mes for just long enough to force NBA into two deadbugs as her proxy
Words fail me when thinking about what to say about this trail. First of all, is there no shiggy in south Wichita? The hares led the pack up and down and around seemingly (semenly?) every street in south Ta-Town. We passed yard sales (had to pass up a darling green dress), funerals, cars, streets, houses, barking dogs, several Dip signs, ma and pa couples yelling at us from the front porches, and about a dozen small parks and playgrounds. The hares were very considerate and provided us with a record number of song checks, knowing how much we love to sing. The beer near was in a bar/pool hall place where the beer was plentiful and cold, and the indoor toilets flushed.
We had two auto hashers. First, the dastardly Hummer was chauffeured to the beer near since she showed up just as the hares ended the trail at the on-in. So she was allowed to r*n only the second half of trail. Not only did she commit this heinous act, but then she left before circle. More about this treachery in a bit. Next, our aptly-named visiting hasher, Forrest Gimp, boy-toy of On Her Knees, twisted his ankle about three blocks from the on-in, and the hares had to do a search and rescue. Fortunately, they found him, so our record remains pristine - no fatal casualties on trail ....yet.
OK, now back to Hummer. She was the DFL but she left us before circle started (do I seem to be fixated on this?). NBA graciously offered to stand in as her proxy since she would have been DFL had Hummer not been. This was a mistake. Dip seemed to have been dead-bug-crazed at this circle, and the hapless NBA bore the brunt of his sadism. Hummer committed so many blunders that NBA seemed to spend the whole circle lying on the ground having beer poured on her.
The on-after was at Merle's (not quite as welcoming since Barmaid Carrie quit working there). We continued with the important business of naming nnMike, and we were finally in agreement. For now and forevermore, nnMike will be known in the hashing world as....drumroll.....Cumbag Shitpants, at least until he does something even more stupid. Which is quite likely, with his ability to shit in the most unlikely locations. On on!
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1195
When: Tuesday, May 14th, 6:30 pm.
Hare: Born on Your Anus
Hash Cash: $3
Hounds: Puff, ASS, NBA, Tina, PPL, BP, Kibbles, Hummer, Tequila, PBR, Down Wind, nnMike, Dip for the pre-lube and part of the circle
I have had a suspicion growing for quite a while, but this hash confirmed my suspicions. Born On Your Anus does not like us. At least, he appears to be trying to kill one or two of us on these trails he's subjecting us to lately.
Trail started from Quincy's, 21st and West St., and meandered off to the south and eventually took us near the zoo. Fortunately for us, the rattlesnakes that probably hibernate in the rocks under the overpasses have evidently not awakened, because no hounds were bitten as we tripped and fell over the rocks searching for trail. Up on the other side of the Big Ditch, we espied two of Wichita's finest who had pulled over a poor schmuck and were busy writing tickets. They seemed to be watching us and were evidently waiting for us to do something stupid like jaywalk. Which we did. But we probably intimidated them with our lightning speed and stunning athleticism and we were out of sight before their befuddled eyes and brains could assimilate our awesomeness. It was at this point we lost Tequila Tony who evidently has a deadly allergy to po-po. Bypassing the constabulary, TT eventually found some sort of trail of his own, and met us back at the on-in.
Back to trail......the diabolical hare took trail off to the north through a tick-infested scrubby field and, evidently he felt he might run out of flour for trail, so he threw precious little. Our token Native American trail tracker, NBA, was able to follow her native ancestors' tracking instincts and locate the blobs of flour that the hare left on some puny trees. Lo and behold, we discovered the ONE beer-near on a block of native Kansas styrofoam which probably dated back to the Pleistocene era, located at the edge of some abandoned quarry lake. True-trail took us straight across the lake to the opposite side. We eventually found trail on the other side which then led us to a junkyard. The hare decided we needed to illegally trespass this junkyard and made us climb over a locked fence that was booby-trapped with barbed wire and other rusted protruding wires. Once we got past the junkyard, trail took us up a sheer cliff, down a sheer drop-off, through poison-ivy-infested undergrowth, up another sheer cliff (which with one mis-step would have sent us down into another little lake). Fortunately, we did not lose any hounds, which was much to the chagrin of the hare. Trail then took us back to the Big Ditch and eventually to the on-in under the I-235 overpass.
Our RA, once again, had abandoned us at circle, and we had to make-do with the (in)abilities of, first, NBA, and then, BOYA. BOYA, by the way, is taking sadism lessons from Dip and is excelling at flinging insults at the hapless hounds. We paid homage to the passing of Angelina Jolie's breasts, and then we drank beer and sang songs and introduced our Canadian visitor with the delights of dead bugs. After circle ended, we proceeded with the interrogation of nnMike, who delighted us with an excessive amount of naming material. However, we could not agree on a name, and we will continue the process at the next hash. On on.
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1194
When: Wednesday, May 8th, 6:30 pm.
Hare: Tina Eat the Piss
Location: Beer-Thirty at Harry and Ida
Hash Cash: $3
Hounds: Kibbles n’ Chips, PBR, Anus, Trashy, NBA, Puff, Cuddles, Hummer, Anything Goes, Phi Phi, Amanta, nnDJ,
Pack gathered at new watering hole at the Harry and K-15 area appropriately called “Beer 30”. The hare was eager to get a jump on trail, as it was rumored that water, lightening, and possibly tornadoes would soon be dropping from the sky. Trail headed west from the bar, along Harry Street, and meandered towards South Broadway, where Anus and Trashy giggled like school girls at what they were pretty sure was a slightly disheveled, but bonafide hooker. It was only later in circle that it was discovered that PBR actually took the time to introduce himself, inquire as to her prices, and give her his address… or something like that.
BN was at Tina’s house and consisted of PBR talls, which was easily the best part about trail. As the pack drank, little drops of water began to fall from the sky, prompting us to get going in what would be a failed attempt to avoid a real-deal thunderstorm. As we worked our way back to the east, a handful of us narrowly dodged a runaway train traveling at near light speed, and, in midst of patting ourselves on the back, noticed a gnarly wall cloud closing in on us; and that’s when shit got competitive. The typical FRBs picked up the pace and sprinted back to the bar, but not in time to avoid getting rained on. The middle of the pack and certainly the DFLs were soaked from head to toe by the time they actually made it in.
We “ovaled” outside on the narrow patio at the bar, our inept GM volunteered to fuck up the RA job once again in Dip’s absence, and there was much rejoicing.
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1193
When: Saturday, May 4, 12:00
Location: Parking lot off of Topeka, just north of Murdock, behind the Grand Chapel (Which sits on Broadway across from the Artichoke).
Hash Cash: $7 (Good Tequila and Mexican Beer)
Shiggy Level: 2-3 (probably won't need a dry bag)
Hares: Anything Goes, Tina, PBR, PQuad, PPL, Dip, NBA, ASS, nnKatie, nnSarah, nnMike, nnJeremy
May the Fourth Be With Chuy.........Han Solo de Mayo.......Return of the Pacos.......whatever you want to call this hybrid which we inflicted upon Doodah on the most miserably cold May 4th in recent memory. BOYA started this torture from the backside of The Grand Chapel, and led the pack off to the east through interesting (editor's note: By "interesting" she means "low socioeconomic/high African American demographic) neighborhoods and industrial warehouses. First beer near was found in a relatively warm storm sewer by 13th Street and the Ditch, which we discovered was also evidently the man cave of PBR. Here, we were amazed to find out that Mexico exports crappy beers similar to Genny Lite. We then followed trail to the north, passing McAdams Park, and through even more industrial areas. Second beer near was found by old railroad tracks by the rendering plants near 21st Street. We were delighted to find even more crappy beer, but this time it was accompanied by the wafting aroma of rotting cow carcasses. (Thank you, Cargill.) Now, here's where the trail turns exceptionally shitty. The hare led us northwest across 21st Street, over fences and along a litter-strewn creek. If the entire pack avoids contracting some horrible disease, it will be a miracle. NBA, for one, needs a tetanus booster after an encounter with a barbed wire fence. We continued to the north along the creek, past an abandoned factory from which gunshots were periodically emitted (editor's note: I want to stress that NBA is serious. Someone was shooting guns inside of an abandoned building that the hare actually intended to circle behind).
We found the on-in a little to the north of the factory with a serape-clad Darth Vader waiting for us. And that wasn't the creepiest thing that awaited us. Our hare had found us shelter from the wind in someone's rape shack which was also probably formerly used as a torture chamber for unfortunate horses. We crammed ourselves inside the tin shack (tiiiiinnnnnn roof......rusted....) in an unsuccessful effort to get warm, only to be subjected to Dip offering us opportunities to be lauded for our trail-following efforts. Amazingly, there was a relatively clean wooden board provided for the inevitable dead bugs that Dip thinks are necessary.
As we swung low, we were amazed to find that the temperature had dropped even more, and the wind had picked up to gale-force speeds. We eventually were transported to the Artichoke for the on-after. As we were thawing out and despite chattering teeth, we managed to cum up with a name for nnKatie. Our first choice was nnKatie, but, as the result of a couple of stories she told, we decided that for now, and forevermore, (or until she does something even more stupid), nnKatie will be known as Kibbles 'n Chips. There was much rejoicing. On on!
Hares: Puff, PPL, NBA, Cuddles, Hummer, Tina, Ho Ho Hummer, nnAlex, nnSarah, nnMike, nnKatie
Ah, springtime in Kansas! May 1st is such a lovely time of year for Ta-Town. The pack met in the parking lot behind the Monarch, huddling together for warmth from the Wind from Hell that decided to roll in right before the hash started. Thinking that this was supposed to be spring, most of us were not dressed for the bitter cold of winter and this made the occasion just that much more delightful.
This hash was initially supposed to be hared by the incomparable NBA, but she graciously traded days with Dip. Dip then had a family emergency this week and could not join us, so BOYA came (cummed?) to the rescue, probably because he wanted to have a decent trail for our out-of-town visitor, Ho Ho Hummer, and he didn't trust NBA to take the pack more than a couple of blocks. And he was correct; she wouldn't have. That being said, we were graced with the presence of Ho Ho Hummer from somewhere in Japan. He was passing through from the Quad Cities on his way to the Texas Interhash in Austin.
The hound took us a horribly long way to the north, into the hurricane-force north wind, past Exploration Place, across the Keeper of the Plains bridge, on by the Sims Park "zoo" which was populated with dozens of man-eating falcons, to the east across the Murdock Bridge. Here the hare forced us to break Wichita's trespassing laws, which went against our basic morals and ethics, to climb over some fences to refresh ourselves under the bridge with Budweiser. Here we were again dive-bombed by Wichita's native falcon population with the crystal-clear waters of the Arkansas lapping at our feet. Trail then took off back to the south along the river, to another locked fence and gate, which we were forced to climb (again breaking laws and potentially risking our lives). We found an intersection and a diabolically-placed YBF, with true trail being poorly marked to the east. We took an extremely roundabout route through downtown TaTown, and passed Century II but we were too late to accept our awards for the 5-K that seemed to be going on around us. We then eventually found the on-in on the stairs by the Boathouse. Circle ensued, songs were sung, beer was consumed, there was much rejoicing, and the on-after was back at the Monarch where Tequila Tony joined us for a few stories and some beer.
Lately, when it cums to namings, we've been operating at a slightly slower pace than the most overgrown, inefficient bureaucracy that one could possibly conjure (VA anyone?). However, Baby Jesus was clearly on our side at the Monarch because we actually manged to eek out a name for one of our four or five deserving hashers. nnAlex, based on his taste in love-making music and preferred gay sex positions, was Christened "Power Bottom Redding", or PBR!
There is bound to be at least one naming this Saturday at the "May the Quatro be with You" Hash. Show up and help us out!