Hash Trash 7.14.12

Hash Trash 7.14.12

H@res: Slurpee 2nds, Scottish Fingercuffs, Ass To Math, Hi Hoe Hi Hoe, Semper Pi

H@shers: Sex & Ate, Speed Semen, Willing Filling, Jaws, Diaper Rash, Cakehole, Touch Myself In General, After School Special, Trim My Bush, Rambush: First Blood, I’m Not A Cock, Full Mental Jacket, Winter Merkin, Poop Skywalker, Well-cum Back Kotter (or was itĀ  WB Cocker?… no matter), Just Rodney (aka: Derrick Buttlick), Just Slurpee Offspring, 2 Virgins

While all the other “Great Lake” over-achieving racists went north for the weekend, the leftover, horny, bored and kilted showed up to Slurpee 2nd’s Birthday Hash (Hooray! More beer for us!). Trail began with an immediate loss of footwear from a w#lker, and a quick BC to Start for all. For those who actually followed true trail (all w#lkersĀ  and 4 r#nners total), the BC retreated to the cars, where there waiting were some delicious Virgin-Slurpees for the sucking. Meanwhile, the slightly less hydrated were consumed in locating fresh markings, which was good, because no one could find shit on trail for a while.

The constant beat down of the sun provided steamy terrain through the neighborhoods and asphalt-laden parking lots. Many were hoping it was a matter of time before trail entered into shiggy territory. Rambush knew all too well that nothing good was going to cum from the woods, so she took the path more traveled with the w#lkers. Although the shade was welcome, the poison ivy, thorny branches and high-rising roots were greeted with cursings, yelping and the gnashing of teeth. Hidden deep into the woods was a Penis and Boob check, which really just meant a Penis Check. Being the first female to the scene, all I saw was a circle of 5 jerks just staring at each other’s junk. I figured it was a bad time to throw a tit into the scenario. Before arriving to the first BN, TMB was doing everything he could to get others lost, Diaper was doing everything he could to roll his ankle more, and Cakehole was doing everything he could to get the image of “Concave Dave” out of his mind.

The first beer check provided cold, wet beverage, including some Raspberry Lemonade Seabreezes, which Speed Semen and his vagina enjoyed thoroughly. H#shers compared flesh wounds. Jaws was continuously threatened to be burned at the stake. Before anyone knew it, the h@res were off again.

The 2nd leg had fewer marks than the 1st, but the keen senses of hounds couldn’t be deterred. Another FRB was found under the gentle hum of the power cable towers, and the bottles were left to the Canton hobos that would eventually be drawn to the spot from the towers’ electrical lullaby. We were surprised to not see Full Mental Jacket twirling out there with his big stick under the wires. Anyway, back into suburbia we went, with a few frolics through sprinklers and few r#nners conspiring to steal some burgers off of a couple of backyard grills. Trail had dried up, and when Diaper turned and said, “Follow me. Let’s go this way,” I knew we were lost. To our luck, Derrick Buttlicker discovered flour that led us to the 2nd BN. Full Mental was standing guard at the entrance with his log in hand, thoroughly creeping out the locals.

From there was the walk back to the cars, and then Ceremonies. Many an accusation was thrown, including technology on trail, missing whistles, racist apparel, following Diaper, and not following Back Checks. Virgins drank, as did the visitor Well-Cum Back, Kotter. The On After was at the Mobile Lounge, where Jaws schooled the boys in some pool, Slurpee got his birthday song, and Diaper took every opportunity to disturb and gross out Slurpee and Scottish’s offspring.

‘Til next trail. ON ON!

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