Rehash #303 – Rehash Cause Rehash

What’s that ? You’ve got a fever and the only cure is an OTD rehash ?! If so… you are delirious, seriously, go seek medical attention.

13 plus Fakey 2/3 of way through trail showed up on a beautiful Saturday for Pirates and Pumpkins, and moar bees everywhere. Not to be confused with Pilates and Blumpkins and herpes everywhere, which I’m guessing was Ithaca trail Sunday (cause Peeg and others teach fitness and Dunga and …. f*ck it neermind it wasn’t that clever to begin with).

Two justs Megan and Mike plus birthday Chunks hared some possibly virgin territory on trails and uphilly roads using many way too long falses. To justify uphilly nonsense the justs provided grog and taught a sea shanty at a shot check near a woodland homelessville. Good job justs!

The pack went on-in, where pre closing circle some allegedly straight males discussed their type if they were gay but they aren’t but if they were …

And one of their type was an otter…
https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=otter

Then we almost drowned Chunks. Again.

Then we killed our Just hares Just Megan and Just Mike who were reborn as Imgoodgetonmenow and Ichiball (sp?) after being baptized in flour.

Then we on after drank at the Pale and Bucket. Which may be called that as their food made several turn pale and possibly require a bucket. On the plus side, metric tons of tater tots for all the hashers.

Pics or it didn’t happen ? See below.

On – make rehashes great, or at least happen, again – on
-OTD [One Trick Dick]

 

Rehash #268: Rehash Song

Short and sweet (unlike the trail) to the Tune of Yesterday:

Trail 268: Fleshies hash

 

Fleshys Hash…it did not go by in a flash.

But at least there was not a hash crash.

Oh, I Survived Fleshys Hash.

 

Suddenly, I’m still the halfmind I used to be.

There’s is shiggy hanging onto me.

Oh, Fleshys Hash came prematurely.

 

Up that stupid Hill we did dash and In the lake no one splashed.

This was a ridiculously long Hash.

Oh …I relieved myself at Fleshys Hash

Mm mm mm On on mm mm mm mm

Rehash #236: Election Hash Song

To the Tune of Green Acres. Not in C sharp…but Drunken Jagged….

(First Verse)
Election Hash Was the place to be!

For Trump was Grabbing, a lot of pussy!

Shiggy Stretching so far and wide…

With shitty beer and making hunters Cry!

(Second verse)
City Hashing is really Lame!

Verona Beach was far from tame!

Jello shots and that Big Lake view…

With trump and Hillary we know we’re Screwed!

The Beers!

Jello Shots!

New Mugs!

More shots!

We had shitty Hares!
Good Bye Election Cares!

Election Hash… Weeeee….Were…. Therrrrrrrrre!

Respectfully submitted,

-Bumper Thumper

Rehash #186: Leap Year Hash

It’s the end of trail and the cops are watching us from across Shop City plaza. It’s the second time we’ve seen the cops tonight so instead of pressing our luck, it’s time for a 30 second circle. I splash a little PBR in all welcoming vessels—”You’re stupid, you’re stupid, you’re really fucking dumb, if it wasn’t for your mother, you’d be a stain of cum!”—we drank a social and went on to the on-after. Sure, this was probably the safe option, but there were seriously a lot of down-downs earned on our inaugural Leap Day Hash. So for purposes of the hash record, I, the default RA in absence of any better options, confer the following down-downs (in pseudo-chronological order):

Down-down to the hares (originally Kicky and C/2) for setting a shitty trail
This starts out typically enough.

Down-down to the virgin
Did we actually have one? I think he disappeared in the confusion

Another down-down to the hares for setting a “special trail” in multiple colors of flour
What was special about that? I guess we’ll never know.

Down-Down to Goldie for offering to RA, but not even getting to the legal disclaimer
Why, you may ask, did she not even get that far? This brings us to our next down-down…

Another down-down to the hares for setting a trail from a parking lot that closes at dusk, which the cops routinely check at dusk, and through a park which also closes at dusk. The cops were generally reasonable when they showed up, though I’m pretty sure that bit about thinning out the deer population in Green Lakes was just a ploy to keep us from moving to another parking lot and hashing in the park anyway

Another down-down to the hares for setting a cooler on a private road, getting the cops called on them, and having the cops confiscate our cooler, then recognizing C/2’s plates while they were waiting for us to leave the parking lot. At least the cops gave the cooler back to us so we didn’t have to go get it ourselves!

A down-down to everyone who was indecisive in finding a new location for a live trail (social!–or maybe we can just blame this on our GM?!)

Down-down to those who threw in the towel and skipped our live trail at Shop City (Goldie, Fleshy, Dry Spell, Anal, a few more including our virgin)

Down-down to our newly reconstituted hares (Kicky, C/2, Snidely)

Down-down to everyone who bought beer while we were giving the hares a head start (Ass Full, Pom Pilot, OTD, someone went to the liquor store?!)

Down-down to our hares for setting trail on 90 degree turns without any checks or other indications that we shouldn’t continue straight

Down-down of appreciation to Just Tim for keeping the clock on how long of a head start we’ve given the hares after the shot stop

Down-down to everyone who was impatient and left after only 5 minutes (social!)

Down-down to C/2 for misunderstanding where the BN should be and putting it behind a random building

Down-down to Kicky and Snidely for continuing to set trail even though the pack was no longer following them. (The hares would be pretty drunk at this point!)

Down-down to Ass Full and Chunks for following the rest of trail to find Kicky and Snidely, only to lose it when the hares stopped setting it

Down-down to everyone who skipped C/2’s leg of trail and ran right back to Shop City (social!)

Down-down to anyone who hashed 4 or more times in the last 9 days of February (there’s a few that need to Get a Life, Get a Life Get a Life Life Life!)

May the hash go in peace (may the hash get a piece!)

Thank Gisbert that Leap Day only comes once every 4 years!
Irrespectfully Submitted,
-Ass Full of White Man

Rehash #182: It’s really f*ing cold

To be sung to the tune of “When Johnny Comes Marching Home”

I
The frozen Half Minds hashed the Mall
Hoorah
Hoorah!

The frozen Half Minds hashed the Mall
Hoorah
Hoorah!

They followed red ribbon and tape that’s white
For nobody wanted frostbite!

The frozen half minds hashed the Mall!

II
They drank shitty beer in the parking lot!
Hoorah
Hoorah!

They drank shitty beer in the parking lot!
Hoorah
Hoorah!

It was too cold for games or tricks
So they just drank and drew pics of dicks!

They drank shitty beer in the parking lot!

III
On the trail wankers got lost.
Hoorah
Hoorah!

On the trail wankers got lost.
Hoorah
Hoorah!

Some of the hashers got lost and confused
Due to the amount of alcohol abused!

On the trail wankers got lost!

IV
At Dave and Busters good beer was had!
Hoorah
Hoorah!

At Dave and Busters good beer was had!
Hoorah
Hoorah!

Everyone was served at least a pint
and going down it just felt so right!

At Dave and Busters good beer was had!

V
The on after was a fine dining affair
Hoorah
Hoorah!

The on after was a fine dining affair
Hoorah
Hoorah!

Really good food, nice and styled
The perfect place for hashers to defile

The on after was a fine dining affair

Respectfully submitted,
Bumper Thumper

Rehash #173: The 3rd Anal MAD Ho! Ho? Who you calling a Ho?

On-On the twelfth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me a bunch of Creepy Santas
On-On the eleventh day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me some really Sketchy Elves
On-On the tenth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave a Reindeer on a Boob
On-On the ninth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me some really Ugly Sweaters
On-On the eighth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me absolutely No Virgins
On-On the seventh day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me an R69
On-On the sixth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me a waterfront Picture Check
On-On the fifth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me a completely missed J-Check
On-On the fourth day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me a special Beer Shot Stop
On-On the third day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me a couple of Beer Nears
On-On the second day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me more than five miles of Snowless Trail
On-On the first day of Hashmas, the MAD Ho gave to me a Hunter in a Tree Stand

Respectfully submitted,
Came with a Fake Name

Rehash #172: A Golden Fleshball Wedding

Golden Snowball and Fleshlight were united in unholy hashimony during a 1:69 HST outdoor ceremony at Green Lakes State Park at SOH4 Trail 172. The double-handcuff ceremony was officiated by the dishonorable Pastorbator.

The bride was presented by her totally jacked mother, Chunks & Dunks, and  distrustful father of the bride, Snidely Whipass. The groom was awkwardly presented by his creepy father, Bushy Cholera. The judgmental-no-mo-fo-is-good-enough-for-my-baby mother, Tri Anything, wore running clothes, while the trampy stepmother, Loonies and Toonies, donned a slutty red dress with a plunging neckline.

Guests “enjoyed” a selection of Genny Cream as the ceremony began. The bride and groom switched hash necklaces and wore matching outfits causing most guests to be unsure of who was who—though the bride did wear a leopard hat and a tasteless veil.

The bride was attended by hare Slip and Swallow and always-a bridesmaid-never-a-bride Came with a Fake Name, who both wore lovely long gowns, and that lying Utica Chub, who wore a short dress even though she said she was going to wear a poufy dress too. She was also supposed to be piano player, but didn’t do that either. Six From Behind served as Flour Girl. The groom was attended by hare F*uckWOD, the bride’s meathead brother— who would totally kicked the ass of anyone who messes with his sistah, Self Cock Block, and handcuff bearer Honey Boo Boo. The couple was attended by Matron of Honor and Best Man, Anal-lyze This, in a recycled bridesmaid dress, and Dry Spell[cl1] , in hoe-down plaid.

The couple exchanged traditional hash vows in the parking lot while their guests looked on, distracted by the antics of birthday boy Puddle Humper and that couple that couldn’t stop having sex, Pink Taco and Vagiantalia. The bride’s bitchy sorority sisters, Upper Decker Wrecker and Just Stephen, passed all kinds of judgment on the bride’s attire, the other guest, and pretty much every aspect of the wedding. Drunk Aunt Table It interjected many colorful comments to liven up the affair, while Uncle WOD Receiver groped all of the female guests. The jaded married couple, Cock Possible and Dr. Cum on My Thumb, couldn’t stop arguing and their bratty, unsupervised toddler, No Child From Behind pissed everyone off with her unruly behavior.

A reception followed on the trails of Green Lakes State Park. Guests were treated to numerous checks, with YBF’s and R’s up and down hills. At the shot stop, Jackoff, that annoying old college friend, made one of his many incoherent and rambling toasts to the couple. Newlyweds Just Justin and Chickpea on My Face had plenty of advice, while wedding crashers Just Jeremy and Charles In Charge said— as they downed the free champagne, that it was the best wedding they’d crashed, this week anyway.

The reception was quite festive. A group photo was taken in front of the picturesque Round Lake, both a butt-free and butt-filled versions. Much shiggy was enjoyed and TOFU was not lost on trail, much to the relief of all guests. The bride and groom performed the garter removal ceremony at the first Beer Near along with the traditional garter/bouquet toss. Merriment and celebration continued as guests were rolled in culvert tubes in lieu of dancing. At the second Beer Near, the bride and groom enjoyed wedding cake and glutard friendly peanut butter pie while Just Kirill made a really awkward toast. Despite being a jealous ex-boyfriend, Same Job Different Orifice did not snap. Among other guests who enjoyed the affair: Rectal Retriever came as a clone of the bride, which confused the half-mind guests. Tweedle You made Deflower City keep all of his clothes on, but with that snazzy plaid jacket, it may have been better if he was naked. Snow Me a Blowman was seen crashing in his finest formal wear while Kickstand wore his hashiest kilt. Kneegina came as Professor Plum—wrong hash theme, and Cocktimus Prime donned all-black funeral attire—wrong occasion. There was also a rare appearance by long-time-no-cummer Calvin Christ.

There was a final photo on the beach at the Playground Check and then On-in where the hares were revered for a fine celebration and guests were recognized for their contributions. Wedding songs included “S-H-I-T-T-Y,” “If Your Girl Friends Tastes Like Shit,” and other wedding favorites. The hash went in peace, to get a piece and the On-after was enjoyed at Stingers Pub.

Respectfully submitted,
Came with a Fake Name

Rehash #169: Trail 169 on Friday the 13th

Gather round, all you children, and sit close by me, as I tell the story of the sordid affairs of the Friday the 13th 169th SOH4 Hash, that took place this 13th of November, 2015.

Imagine you find yourself in the middle of a dark parking lot on a chilly November Friday night with 60 other idiots decked out in running clothes and weird accessories. A mustachioed man named Kicky hands you a pair of bright orange gloves in return for $10 hash cash. You thank him and step backward into the horde. Everyone is chattering about an anniversary of some sort. People and dogs keep arriving, as if called by some supernatural force. A man in a Michael Myers mask eyes you up and down. You shiver. “It’s from the cold,” you tell yourself. “It’s just from the cold.” But deep down, there’s something discomforting you.

Two dogs begin to brawl. Then, the crowd forms a circle and begins a strange ritual called “chalk talk”. A man called Table It, who appears to be in charge, requires four “virgins” to do unconscionable things in the middle of this ritual, while Kicky drops piles of a white substance on the ground. The crowd becomes restless and chants loudly “no matter what happens, it’s my own fucking fault” before taking off into the woods like ghouls. You follow, ripping through through the brambles and thorns as you struggle to keep up. No matter how strange the group is you are with, you’re sure it’s better than being alone. As you scamper over a hill, you realize with horror that you’re in a massive graveyard, eerily illuminated by only the night’s moon. The pause in the midst of the chaos is peculiar and before you decide what to make of it, your companions are frantic once more, soon clamoring on about some “beer near” or something you don’t understand. Finally there, they stop, and you rest cautiously before taking off once again.

Up ahead on the ground is a mark you don’t recognize. A circle jerk, says a nearby deviant. You watch as the group splits in two, attacking the area ahead as if a two-headed devil dog. Around they ran, possessed by the spirit of the beer near, until the two heads appeared to crash into each other. Chaos erupted at the center! Men and women took to running around and around and around, screeching and howling with sinister laughter. A man called Bushy and one called Chickpea wrestled wildly. With no one to take control, this circle jerk appeared to be unstoppable. It is maddening and you want to scream! And then, just as quickly as it started, men and women dispersed, returning to a more normal running style. You try to shrug this bizarre activity off, but you know you are forever changed.

As you move forward with the others, the graveyard tells its stories, daring you to move among its stones without regard. Then, all gather around to hear a certain pair of Just Mikes tell their stories. These strange, perverted tales about cats and mothers cause hooting and howling from your companions. It appears they are delighted, for a reason you cannot fathom. A man in a pickup truck eyes the horde, and you are conflicted between being relieved to feeling distress. The group senses impeding danger and moves quickly to its next stop location, on to another so-called “beer near” as you follow limply behind. “Charles in Charge,” you hear whispered among the others. You will soon find out that one of these Just Mikes doesn’t make it out of the evening alive. He was replaced by this Charles in Charge, much to the delight of the pack.

The tumultuous evening appears to be ending, as you come to recognize the parking lot you started from. Relief waves over you, only to be replaced with sadness. “There isn’t enough beer,” you hear all around you. “Please, share some beer with others. We only have a little left.” This twist in events leaves you queasy, and you wonder how it can be that so many people have such free time on Friday evenings to traverse through forests and cemeteries, all for this drink they call “beer”.

You plan to come back the following week and try it again.

Respectfully submitted,
Slip and Swallow