That's right 38 wankers! Close enough to reference: Oh yeah, and then headteller showed up late (duh) with 2 girls one knife. So make that 40 in all. Start Was in a parking lot directly next to some railroad tracks, as we didn't want to confuse the SoPi hashers, them being so far from Railhouse Brewery and all. A longer pre-lube meant time for Dick Snail to execute a variety of drinking games of the ping pong and flipping variety, determining the best from each kennel to compete in the final games. Chalk was on hand and ALL the hashers reverted to 5 year olds, drawing pictures and signing their names, as evidence that they all made the dubious decision of showing up. Circle Up! Face welcomed all the wankers, explained how it would work, and doled out straws. Fahr & other trasher (short blond, very nice girl) drew the short straws, were blessed, and off they went First Leg because Fahr, trail went directly into a creek. Short-cutters followed marks from the bank until it took a turn into some neighborhoods. Hershey ran down the YBF while the rest of the pack headed up the hill. A short leg with lots of barking dogs, confused old black men watching for tits, and duh, lots of tit checks. A nice round of Jesus Saves since he was on trail with us. Jesus CAN go hashing bc it only costs 1 buck. FRB's were Antiquing my Woody & Dick Snail who took over as hares and left as the pack arrived (distance: about 1 mile). First Beer Check In the woods with beer carried in by 3 sucke..errr, volunteers (Just Matt, Army, and someone else). Second Leg Under the watchful eye of a Sanford Police Cruiser, we disappeared into the woods and followed the railroad tracks (seriously, SoPi can't get enough of railroads) to a song check where Fahr led us in a lovely song about harriettes and their lily white tits. Then, DEATHMARCH INTO TOWN. An extended Yogi song check. Trail led us to a downtown intersection where marks simply disappeared. Hashers set off in all 4 directions, desperately looking for a mark. FINALLY figured out the 2nd beer check was at a member's only pool hall with no BN marked out front and thirsts were quenched. (distance: about 1.5 miles) Second Beer Check Bartender was entirely flustered by this large group of people who helped her make more tips in 20min than she prob made the entire weekend. A surprisingly large selection of prophylactics for sale. Third Leg Hokie and another trasher hared the last leg. It basically went around the corner and back to start, though I was with the last group of shortcutters who walked directly back to start (distance: about .25 mile) On-In The group all made it back, via trail and short-cutting to relax, drink a deer, and change into warmer hash garb. Dick Snail oversaw the final round of competition, which going into the last game, had SoPi & Larrikins tied for the "coveted" trophy. Circle A hasher was incredulous we were pulling out bags of ice, because, "It's so cold out!". I wish I could remember who it was, as I'd have him still sitting on said ice waiting for his down-down song. RA'd by Bam Bam. Face demented Just Matt's virgin, Mike, who, while stating that missionary was his favorite position, laid down and took it like a man from Just Matt. We all said head, and he drank it down down down. Welcome to the hash, Just Mike. ALL THE HARES sat on ice. Accusations and grievances were heard. Many drank for many different reasons. Dick Snail oversaw the smashing of the eggs on foreheads (don't ask, please don't ask) and Packin' a Hot Lunch lost the on-on golden trophy to Family Friendly F*ck. Way to go Packin'. On-After About 20 headed to Local Joe's, where another overwhelmed bartender slung food and poured beers. Chunky tried to convince the rest of the larrikins it was time for another round of the wheel. It was decided that the virgin has seen/done enough for one day. Oh, and it was also decided that the wheel needed to start traveling more.
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