4:20am. Yeah, that’s what time I got up. F*ck that’s early. I have a general rule to never get up before 5am unless it involves a flight or a serious emergency. HashHogs was neither. Remind we why we’re doing this again? Oh right, for the love of beer and debauchery. On-sleepy-On.
Rolling up to the Fish Hatchery, there were two lonely vehicles belonging to SCRATCH-N-STIFF and GOES DOES ON THE REBOUND. Ah… The new mismanagement is stepping up to their challenge. Well done RA and Hash Cash.
Slowly but ever so surely, more hashers appeared to the shady looking scene. A few people gathered around the back of a closed bed pick up truck with a utility light just barely illuminating an array of hot beverage boxes, miscellaneous liquor, and a case of hash beer at 5:30 in the morning.
It was too dark to see who was standing next to you, but we knew we were in the right place as the Hash Huggers, PAPPA’S PUSSY PUSS and JUST REENA, practiced their three way welcome with new arrivals. We had about 20 hashers present, including a visitor from Summit H3, DOG-E-STYLE, gathered when the drawing of straws for hare went down. I was first to draw (thinking that was the safest way not to pull the short straw) and WTFF?! Short straw!!! Luckily, there was a second short straw and the lucky grabber was UNDER THE GAYDAR.
SCRATCH circled us up and the hares were off. Trail was a long, hot, exhausting shiggy fest of hash hogs goodness. On-In to circle and the Hash Hogs ritual.
Circle was the epitome of Ground Hog’s Day. Accusation after accusation landed combinations of GLORYHOLE, THREE WAY RUNAWAY, TWINK BABY, and GAYDAR doing down downs over and over. “When one hash flash drinks, all hash flashes drink!” “When one gaylord drinks, all gaylords drink!” “When one titsie, tootsie, twinsie drinks, all titsie, tootsie, twinsies drink!” (That’s PORKPULLER and PPP if you’ve been slacking on the latest twinsie news.) The accusation we may have missed was long timers. For the first time in a long time the hash was graced with the presence of KUMTUCKY SLURPEE, OUT OF THE WOODS, and ALBINO BEAVER.
As we blew our load on accusations, it was finally time for the main attraction… The Hash Hogs ritual… THE SHOCKER and BEATZ IT conducted the ceremonial prediction. (I’m not going to describe it. You lazy mother-f*ckers who haven’t seen it will just have to get off your asses and out of your warm beds next year to see for yourself.) I will share the prediction: Six more weeks of shiggy!
At last, the hash went in peace (to get a piece) and passed a group of fishermen and a gaggle of lady racists all wondering what our motley crew was up to so early. If only they really knew…
Everyone but YA LION CUNT carried on to the On-After at The Brass Rail. We had a warm welcome from the wait staff. As we walked in they said “We remember you from last year!” to which a hasher aptly responded with “We don’t”. Needless to say, once they sat us down and the waitress started off by asking for a show of hands, “who wants bloody mary’s?”, we knew we were in very good hands.
Between the coloring sheets, staff asking for selfies with DRUNX, and the natural chaos a group of hashers bring to any occasion, a good time was had by all. Here’s a few overheard comments to give just the tip of what a good time it really was…
“Flumenflagen helps the lesbians go down.”
“Strippers are like vampires. They’re only out at night and they’re always sucking stuff.”
“Just like breakfast, we’re going to fill you up.”
“Not the first time one of these bad boys ended up in my mouth.”
“Some people say there’s too much teeth. I have teeth put in.”
“Go in rough, come out smooth.”
Happy Hash Hog’s Day!