What: Tornado Alley Hash #1164
When: Monday, December 31, 3:00 PM
Location: Sedgwick County Park, Parking Lot off of 13th St.
Hash Cash: $7
Hounds: BOYA, Dip, Ass, Trashy, Phi Phi, nnSam, BP
The Hounds all gathered around the south parking lot in Sedgwick county park, braving not only freezing temperatures, but also rain and large, heavy snow flakes.
The hare did a stellar job of being flexible and altering her trail at the last minute when everyone started whining about the A-B factor. However, in the defense of those of us who asked her to alter it, she hadn't thought ahead to have transportation at “B”, so we would have had to r*n a mile back to the start, which I guess we ended up doing anyway.
Pack took off and snaked through the park with their mouths open, trying to catch snowflakes on their tongues and undoubtedly resembling whatever it is that "Donny the Retard" looks like. They located the BN on the banks of a frozen lake. After the BN, the hounds popped out on the north end, undoubtedly where NBA had intended the trail to end at Larry Bud’s. Trail finally wound back to our cars on the south side, where we circled up under a nearby tree. Between the beer and the bottle of bubbly that BOYA brought, the pack was in festive mood as they hopped into their cars and drove to Larry Bud’s, where beer, food and rejoicing were had by all.
2012 wound up being a pretty good year for Tornado Alley. Here's to a New Year full off new trails, new friends, and a shit-ton of beer.
Hounds: PPL, Gooch, NBA
Location: Artichoke - 6:00 p.m.
Hash Cash: $3.00
Where to begin, where to begin....if you thought that hashers act outrageously, you would be correct. One never knows what might happen at a hash. And unlike Las Vegas, what happens at the hash, gets published on Hash Trash, no holds barred, and much to the dismay of certain half-minds, no breasts bared. Except at the Artichoke.
The hard-core hashers of TAH3 were present at this event. The Artichoke was packed with small, green-tinged Irish people (too much beer?), who could not sit still and were swilling copious quantities of amber-colored liquids. We couldn't tell if it was beer, ale, porter, or piss. The music swelled (along with certain body parts) with the sounds of the Pogues, Mumford and Sons, and Lumineers, and all feet were flying. When Gooch got up to dance, the crowd thought it was Michael Flatley of Riverdance. One might have thought he was used to dancing scantily clad before crowds of admiring females, it was so effortless. It was at this point that the shirts came off (well, really, it was hot in there). But enough about that.
Trail, you might ask? Yes, there was. It was an epic trail, the stuff that legends are made of. Approximately 6 miles, and the shiggy was outrageous. If you thought Tequila Tony's alligator-infested-malaria-swamp trails were taxing, you ain't seen nothin' like this trail. Anus took us through all the habitats of which Wichita boasts. Ice? Pfstsht. Temperature? Below zero. Meth heads? Working ladies? Hopscotch? Check. Check. Check. The highlight of the trail, though, was the beer slushees and the chip crumbles from a used bag of chips he left us at the beer near.
It is unlikely that we will ever see so many TAH3 bare chests and/or breasts at a hash again, so if you missed it, well, you missed it. You suck. ONON.
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1162
When: Friday, December 21st – 6:00 pm
Hare: Born On Your Anus
Location: Under Kellogg (Highway 54), next to Gander Mountain
Hash Cash: $7
Shiggy Level: 1
Beer Bitch: Just Lays There
Hares: Puff, NBA, PPL, BP, Stumpy Whisker Biscuit, nnSierra, Beeeeestie, Gooch, Cuddle Puncher, Weiner, Tequila Tony, nnJulius, nnGlenda, nnHannah, PQuad, nnMaria, nnSam, nnSeth, nnJon, Coyote Cockwise, nnBen
This was the hash to end all hashes, and the wankers were ready to either meet their doom or to go out fighting. But, evidently, the Mayans made a mistake in their calculations, so all our earnest preparations to join Jim Jones, David Koresh, and the other loonies were in vain. At least we were able to partake of the Kool-Aid without dire consequences (well, there were consequences to drinking the Kool-Aid, but they weren't so dire, just drunken behavior).
Daddy Dip and LSD were at the start to give their blessings and to send the kids on their way, and then the grown-ups had grown-up things to do and abandoned us to whatever fate the hare was going to lead us to.
We met under the Kellogg overpass by Gander Mountain (convenient for us in case we needed to load up on extra ammo and AK-47s), and trail took us west to the river. When Tequila Tony realized we were not crossing it, he wiped away his tears, cursed BOYA for turning down a perfectly good shiggy opportunity, and followed trail with the rest of us across the Maple/Waterman bridge over to the Delano area. We found the first beer near in the alley behind the Vagabond (miraculously, it was revealed, because the hare grossly mis-communicated the planned location to the Beer Bitch - fortunately our Beer Bitch is intelligent as well as beautiful and was able to figure things out).
Trail then took us back to the east by Century II, on to the Arena, and then we located the second beer near in Bum Park (aka Naftziger Park). Unbeknownst to us at the time, we were being spied upon by the hare who was up on the railroad bank by the depot. A little creepy, no? We followed trail then through Old Town and located the 3rd beer near (thank you, kind Beer Bitch) in the parking lot by the Marriott. At this point the wankers seemed to think it appropriate to try to weed out the population by using the limbo stick thoughtfully provided by BP who seemed to think she was going to end up in Limbo. This ploy did not work, since the limbo requirement did not incapacitate anyone. It was then on-on to the south where we eventually found trail that led to the on-in up on the elevated train depot.
So at this point it seems appropriate to point out the attire of the majority of the wankers, since there were prizes awarded for the ability to humiliate ourselves in public. Gooch, in this writer's opinion, won hands-down (hands-down whose pants, you might ask, but I digress). He had originally planned on being a zombie Mrs. Claus, but his makeup artist was not available, so he showed up as a hot, hot, blond vixen with gorgeous legs. He now has an idea of the price we women pay for beauty. We had the Apocalypse Fairy who was probably responsible for holding off the doom. We had Death, the Devil, Jesus, two camouflaged doomsday preppers, a placard-bearing fanatic directing us to France, a beastly woman with crazy socks, a sexy siren who was expecting to end up in Limbo and not in hell along with the rest of us, a music nut with a tshirt bearing the logo of an obscure band that had something vaguely connected to something doom-related or something like that.....
The prize of $3 Hash Cash went to Wiener, as she was the only only willing to pull her boobs out in the frigid temperatures. The prize of tequila, appropriately went to Tequila Tony who was deemed "most offensive" in his Jesus costume. And the grand prize of a limited edition printing of a t shirt commemorating the event was awarded to NBA, who was dressed like a soldier, ready to go out fighting whatever evil may be brought on by the apocalypse.
So circle ensued with the delightful accompaniment of train rumblings, train horns, and annoying train alarms. The only dead bug was awarded to Coyote who showed up half-way through the trail and was recognized for being a 6-month backslider. The hare/GM/webmeister decided that he didn't have enough jobs so he added substitute RA to his resume. He did a half-assed job of controlling circle but no one seemed to notice or care. Beer was consumed, songs were sung, accomplishments were celebrated, and there was much rejoicing. On-after was at River City Brewery, where a select group gathered and continued to make fools of themselves on the dance floor, while listening to a shitty 90's cover band.
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1161
When: Wednesday, December 19, 6:30
Location: Puff's House, 319 S. Terrace
Hash Cash: n/a
Shiggy Level: 1
Distance: A few blocks
Hares: LSD and nnJoanna
Hounds: BOYA, Puff, Dip, Beeeestie, NBA, PPL, Big Bad Booty Daddy, nnJan, Cuddle Puncher, Gooch, ASS, nnKat, Bloody Dyke Turner, WhoreKneeBoobs, nn Hanna, nnJB, Amanta, Tequila Tony, Polly Wanna Swallow, Nurse Me
As always, Puff's and nnJoanna's home and hospitality were the epitome of good taste and good breeding (at least in Joanna's case), which was in stark contrast with their guests, i.e., the wankers of TAH3. Nevertheless, Puff and Joanna were gracious and patient, and supplied us with pasta, and a wide variety of liquid refreshments. We did what we do best: swarmed the table like locusts, snorfing down anything that didn't move, and swilled down copious amounts of the delicious quaffs. The hares actually provided trail outside the home (unlike last year's "trail"), but I swear there were no marks to be found. I must have had more to drink than I thought, since we all know that hashers know how to mark trail.
Trail took us north through both south and north College Hill streets (hmm, vaguely reminiscent of a recent trail?). Once again, Christmas decorations were violated in obscene ways. It was a good thing that we took this particular trail because we found Santa passed out on the grass. Fortunately, we've been trained in resuscitation techniques, and we knew how to revive him. You're welcome, children of the world.
When we returned, we were delighted to find that Santa had followed us there, and was ready to molest the hashers, I mean, allow the hashers to sit on his lap as he bestowed his gifts upon them. I'm not sure, but I think Santa was trained by the Catholic Church. We then had the traditional gift exchange. This year saw an exceptional quality of gifts. I can't say in quite which way they were exceptional, but exceptional, nonetheless. No doubt we will be seeing some of them rear their ugly heads (who said.....?) again next year. Merry Hashmas and a Hashy New Year to all you wankers! On on!
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1160
Where: Mort's Cigar Bar
When: 12/12/12 - 6pm.
Hash Cash: $3
Shiggy Level: 1.2
Hounds: Puff, BOYA, PPL, NBA, CP, Pro Cocky Jockey (Omaha H3), nnSam
It was hard to tell if Dip's love of numbers was evident in this trail. There weren't 12 hounds, can't remember if there were 12 accusations at the circle, or 12 down-downs. There were 12 beers at the beer near, and there were probably 12 crossings of streets in each block of the trail. We probably passed 12 homeless men, and 12 taggings of gang graffiti. Oh, yes, there was a *1/2* on Anus's racist shirt; don't know if that qualifies or not.
We started at Mort's, and enjoyed tasty beverages there, and delighted the staff with a few renditions of hash classics. Mel, the waitress, always comments on how "nice and respectable" we appear, until we start the singing. Trail took us a round-about way by Heroes, where we noticed a real live hare (PP tried to pants it but it took off hopping). We then followed trail east down Douglas and zig-zagged our way to the beer near. It was almost not found due to an egregious mis-marking of trail, which showed a two-way (east-west) split, and trail was eventually found going north. Dip conveniently planted the beer under a bridge which Cuddle claimed was his home. He gave us a tour of his spacious abode, and we oohed and aahed at his accommodations.
We continued our repetitive crossing of streets until we located the on-in at Joe's. And there was much rejoicing.
What: Tornado Alley Hash #1159
Where: 348 N. Erie
When: Wednesday, December 5th, 6pm.
Hare: NBA and PPL
Hash Cash: $5
Shiggy Level: 1
Hounds: Gooch, Cuddles, BP, Dip, nnKat
Our co-harriettes departed NBA’s house right at about 6:30. The hounds, feeling generous, gave them a significant amount of time, so as not to catch Phi Phi on her inaugural hare, and discourage her from the multitude of trails that she undoubtedly has the confidence to lay now. When we did finally leave, we followed a rather urban, shiggy-less trail through NOCOH (North College Hill) that seemed to have a split or intersection at just about every fucking corner. We haphazardly made our way south of Douglas and into SOCOH, where the hares spoiled the fun of the upcumming xmas hash by taking us on a light tour, and ultimately to Puff’s where we enjoyed 16oz. beers and waited patiently for our host to join us, which he never did (what a wank, what wank, what a wank wank wank…).
After we left the BN, Gooch was attacked by a string of lighted sacks next door. He initially ran into Puff’s neighbor’s yard, gallantly hurdling a lighted reindeer. But then, as he attempted to dance around the string of sacks that adorned the perimeter of the yard, they got caught up in his feet, causing him to pull them out of place, one-by-one.
After BOYA freed him from the cords and placed the sacks back where they belonged, hounds made their way back to the north, down the fanciest of fancy streets in College Hill. Cuddles had to stop to get his picture taken with a plastic Santa, BOYA blew a giant inflatable snowman, and BP, while posing for a photo, accidentally knocked on the door of what she thought was the “Frank Lloyd Right House” with her butt, causing all hashers involved to scamper off. As it turns out, it wasn’t the FLRH, but just a quaint abode, whose owner undoubtedly shit all over himself upon hearing the audible “CLANG” that BP’s ass made on his metal door.
Trail ended at Phi Phi’s new digs where we all sang songs and drank beer. In the circle, the Hares claimed that although the first ½ of the trail was 100% chalk and the second ½ was 99% flour, there was not auto-hashing or pre-laying involved. All hounds were and still remain skeptical, but there is no proof so Anus drank for the false accusation. We also discovered that if ANUS, GOOCH, and boathouse PUSSY stand in that order, they are anatomically correct. Oh, and it was 69 degrees in Phi Phi’s place. Just Sayin’.
A good time was had by all. Except maybe for the guy that shit himself. ONON.
Hare: Cuddle Puncher
Hounds: PPL, BOYA, nnSam, nnDane, nnKat, ASS, Puff, NBA, nnTrent, Tequila Tony
Cuddle Puncher's virgin hare was quite the experience. Before trail even started, the hare provided hounds with a bottle of premium Blanco Tequila to sip off of. After getting properly lubed, the hounds departed. Trail took us through an apartment complex by the Arkansas "River". In fact, for most of us, it took us backwards through the apartment complex, since most of us followed trail back-asswards, after finding the first YBF. We eventually (and miraculously) found trail taking us down to the "river" where we found the Beer Near. NNSam was the courageous wanker who ventured about a quarter of a mile into a black sewer pipe to find the golden elixir. He eventually made his way back out into sunlight carrying with him the precious liquid which motivates hashers to keep doing what we do. (Need I mention that there was much rejoicing?)
True trail then led us straight south. It was at this point that the pack lost Puff and ASS who decided to blaze their own trail off to the west, not believing that the hare would actually lead us into the "river". The rest of the pack heroically took off into the ankle-deep water and eventually found trail heading east on the sand bars. NNDane decided to keep his dainty feet dry and attempted to "walk" across on his hands. Thankfully, he fell over backwards on his back, much to the delight of the pack. After criss-crossing the puddles several times looking for trail, the wankers finally found the teensy plops of flour that the demented hare stingily left for us. We eventually ended up going down the bike path toward the south where we found a turkey/eagle split. The turkey trail led back to the "river" and pretty much straight across to the on-in. The eagle trail stayed on dry land but was about 3 times the distance.
We circled in Cuddles' backyard by the river. The weather was perfect (about the only perfect thing about the trail). Tequila Tony filled in as RA. Even with the absence of Dip, we managed to bestow a couple of dead bugs on a couple of lucky wankers. One highlight of the post-Swing-Low was nnSam taking a piss next to the next property, having a pit-bull-mix lunge at him, fiercely barking, which startled Sam, who fell over backwards onto BOYAnus' piss spot. And again, there was much rejoicing.
Hare: Little Red Dipshit
Hounds: PPL, BOYA, Stumpy, Dipstick, ASS, NBA, BDT, Whore Knee Boobs, TT, nnJill, THE, nnShelby, LSD
The beer tasting event was, as it has been in the past, an overwhelming success. We experimented with the finest beverages from renowned breweries such as Boulevard, Dogfish Head, New Belgium, Sierra Nevada, Tall Grass, Free State, and Pabst. After hounds were more than effectively prelubed, Shit took us on a jaunt through his apartment complex in historic Old Town. There wasn't much shiggy on trail, but trail was solid as hell never-the-less. We all left way too drunk, and as always, appreciative of Shit's legendary hospitality.